I just can’t stand their inability to stay put; always running around like minions getting the whole place messed up, disregarding instructions, making one always scream at the top of one’s voice. Very restless beings, emphasis on RESTLESS!
Worst of it all is how much they can’t stay quiet, cry as if a death plaque has come upon them. You can’t please them with the same thing more than once, they are just too needy little creatures.
Every time I’m faced with seeing one, I always hear myself cry out loud, can you just turn 18 already? And I’m certain I’m not the only one on this planet that can’t stand kids. We fear we will be tagged ‘evil’ and criticized if we speak up.
NEWS FLASH: The world has evil in its make up. Not denying the fact that I love them and just can’t wait for them to grow up, I still don’t believe I put someone through that much stress as a kid.
I felt the need to talk about this here because the issue of bearing kids seems to appear in most of my discussionwithfriendslately, let me gist you about one in particular lol😉…
Last week a friend of mine came around and you know how girls talk can be unending but really interesting lol. One talk lead to another and then we got talking about the right time to start bearing kids after marriage. Mehn! You needed to have seen the detest in her face when I asked if she would love to start bearing kids immediately after her wedding.
“Hell No! Biko I want to enjoy my marriage for like a year or two, I want to go on trips with my hubby, catch all the fun in the world before I begin to settle for changing diapers and having tantrums daily in my ears. If my in-laws like, let them tag me barren, that’s their own headache😂” she said.
“But excuse me, aunty! this fun you speak of, did you not have them with your hubby while courting?😕”… I asked.
“Excuse you! marriage is a different phase entirely, it’s the real deal. Courting someone is mere rehearsals” she replied.
What has enjoying one’s marriage got to do with not bearing kids early enough huh? But I couldn’t help but agree with her, not because of the urge to enjoy my marriage per-say but because I will definitely need some time to get used to the whole terms and conditions of marriage life before I can accommodate tantrums and changing diapers. What about you?
Translation: ‘Biko’ is an Igbo word meaning ‘Please’. Igbo is one of the three major ethnic groups in Nigeria. They occupy the south-central and southeastern parts of the country.
Though it’s almost 20 years ago, I can’t remember to forget that morning. It was a Saturday, a time for new looks to be plaited on our heads. My elder brother, the beloved impatient, was going to be seeing us off to the saloon, you know what this means, hurry up or get a fast-forwarding slap that helps you pick up the pace.
“Uju!! UJU!!! come and see, come and see😢…” with so much heaped-up fright triggered by the gory image her eyes had just embraced, my sister Chichi couldn’t wait for me to get to her. She kept screaming my name as she ran to meet me halfway, and behold!! I saw her holding bulky strands of hair covered in pus and blood, all rooted to a peeled skin. “Jesus!! What happened? Who cut your head🥺😲?” I was terrified and immediately afflicted with goosebumps.
One unsolicited gamble life gifts us with is that our lives can change in split seconds. It’s either for better or worse, we are not presented with the gift of a choice. At that moment, my sister who was only 11 years old had her life changed into a nightmare. While every little girl in her circle enjoyed the reality of getting their hairs decorated with beautiful colored beads hanging at the tip of innocently woven cornrows on their heads, my sister had her hair scraped to its foundation with a large plaster supported with bulks of cotton wool underneath that gave it a really offensive shape, plastered in the middle of her head.
“Uju, is the plaster showing? If I put the handkerchief like this, will people notice😪?” Not a day went by without my sister asking me these questions before she left for school. But unfortunately, her cover of shame with the handkerchief was always short-lived by her insensitive teachers who scolded her every time in class affirming that the handkerchief was not part of their uniform, thus ordering her to remove it. This exposed her to undiluted mockery from her classmates.
She lost her esteem completely. She often told me that during break hours, her classmates would draw a large pie head on the board and label it “Maureen’s head”. They would playfully dissect it trying to find X. Sometimes they’ll even come too close to sightsee her head to make sure they had a proper illustration, also chanting “Find X on Maureen’s head”. If you can’t beat them you join them yeah? She found herself too embarrassed to pick a slot to engage them in laughing at her pain. Oftentimes she’ll pretend to be asleep in class, deliberately missed assemblies by hiding in the toilet, and worst off preferred to get her ass whopped at the gate for coming late.
Imagine a child of 11 years old in JS1, losing her confidence and having a psychological breakdown in a world that ought to be fair to her at least at that stage of her life. To date, my sister still has the scar (almost invincible now) on her head. And the psychological scar? She’s still insecure about the shape of her head, she believes she’s got the biggest head to ever say hello to planet earth, one even mightier than watermelons. You can’t tell her otherwise, she’s vowed never to cut her hair again for any reason whatsoever.
I know you’re wondering what exactly led to a change of story for my sister’s head, well it all started with her trying to untangle a relaxer burn while losing her hair, and tada, she ended up uprooting her entire scalp. A sad tale that still haunts her to this day!
I got unfairly surrendered by nostalgia over my sister’s story while scrolling through Twitter and saw a tweet by @demigodgeous which read “I remembered in JS2, I was voted 2nd ugliest person in the class. I was pretending it didn’t hurt me, but it did. It did.” My emotions were suddenly gripped by the sad-toned voice of my sister, how she often said to me “secondary school was the worst stage of my life. The worst place to be, everyone is fake and insensitive including the teachers”.
Then I moved over to the comments, a lot of the responses pierced my emotions more. I couldn’t resist a few screenshots…
“In the drama club, they needed someone to act as satan; the intro tech teacher who’s the coordinator and supposedly a child of God nominated me and explained that imagery and representation matters a lot and they have to use someone that’s close enough to cast the role”– @DrikejioforP
“Reminds me of an experience in primary school where I was paraded in front of the whole school during assembly as having the worst set of teeth. I had fallen down a flight of stairs some months earlier and that hurt my teeth. Tried explaining to my teacher o. But No, this woman paraded me in front of the whole assembly talking about “This is what happens to your teeth when you don’t brush it. Do you want your teeth to look like hers?” Everyone shouted “No”, of course. I did not forgive my teacher for many years for doing that to me”- To_Lisah
“I remember my classmate saying I was so ugly that he would marry me and keep me at the door so that anytime he comes back from work and sees my face, he would laugh”- @BLAQ1E
“I hated my lips in secondary school! A classmate accused me of having big lips, and used to push her mouth forward to make fun of me! It was so painful, I hated my lips so much…I wished I could reduce it!! But my God, look at the sumptuous lips now”- @Pweetiedivine1
“I have had a missing incisor for about 5 years now, I was in SS2 when I had the accident. I recall going to school and everyone laughed at me when I opened my mouth to speak saying I looked like a vampire. To date, that tooth has not been fixed and people still laugh or stare when they see me. That has really lowered my level of confidence in myself. I can’t even take a picture smiling and I hate meeting new people”- @Airfay_69
O, boy! How were kids able to stomach so much hurt? How is it that the kids were so disconnected from the pain their fellow kids felt?
I WAS A NIGHTMARE TOO
And then my emotions are catapulted to every ounce of hurt I made Yemisi Sonuga go through. Ooo Yemisi, damn! I was in JSS 1, boarding house, and this girl, I just could never bring myself to empathize with her. For obvious reasons, I guess it was because she wasn’t like the rest of the girls I wanted in my corner. Secondary school and cliques are like bread and butter, it makes the whole essence worthwhile. And if you gotta keep a clique, you have to make sure to come correct.
Yemisi was too odd but her admiration for me made her yearn for closure. I saw her as too clingy, it pissed me off. She had natural brown-colored teeth which at the time felt disgusting to look at and nearly every time she spoke, spit splattering was sure. I couldn’t deal. Well not only me, the rest of the girls too. No one wanted her. We often mocked her brown teeth and made sure she cried before we stopped. The only time she was good for us was helping us fetch our buckets or go on those long errands. Of course, she always obliged as it made her feel among. Unfair to mention that she spent most of her time at the hostel in tears due to frustration from us.
Yemisi couldn’t handle the heat, we resumed JSS 2 and it was announced she withdrew. Deep down my conscience was uneasy, I knew I had a hand in it but the bad side of my mind kept cheering me on with great relief!
I never forgot her, her name, and what she looked like. Fast forward to after secondary school, I searched for her on Facebook, I found her and sent a connection request which she accepted. Her warm welcome brought me peace. She sent me a message on how life has been, not bad, not perfect. But reading in between the lines of her messages, I was able to uncover that she still had that attached admiration for me. She was still hung on to what we could have been as friends. I didn’t know if to extend a hand of friendship or seek her forgiveness. I was too much of an egoistic coward to seek her forgiveness, I took solace in the fact that she might have never registered any of what I did as an offense. Should I have opened a chapter she might never acknowledged existed? Perhaps the forgiveness I sought was from my conscience, not her.
OOPS I DIDN’T HAVE IT ENTIRELY ROSY
Ooo yes! I wasn’t one of those ‘crown to sole’ spotless kids in the neighborhood. I had my share of insecurities with malaria playing the unrepentant devil’s advocate in my life. As a kid, I often woke up with blisters on my lips even when I wasn’t ill. It will spread across causing sores that were distasteful to look at. I got mocked by my peers for having “hot water lips”. The cold sores happened too often to not leave scars and I’ll never forget a certain boy who said to me “why are your lips like this? Don’t you know it will deter kissers”. The nerve though, like it was my making.
For a long time, I felt insecure about my lips which also got mocked for being big, and yeah yeah my teeth. The incisors appeared bigger than the rest after all my milk teeth bit the dust. I couldn’t laugh at will without getting called “big teeth”. Now, I still suffer a bit of the trauma, I don’t entirely find them cute.
ARE KIDS REALLY INNOCENT?
As an adult now, I often ruminate on the nature of kids, and how cruelly insensitive they are. It’s often said that kids are the most innocent, I beg to differ, kids are brutal! I think of us as kids and I wonder how we picked bad habits in a world we haven’t lived so much in. Is it inborn? It’s interesting that as adults, we now play the sensitivity card.
Many of us still carry scars meted in our childhood. We’re grown now but will these childhood scars ever die? Going through that thread, some tweeps have accepted their hate for pictures because they believe they’re ugly. Some will never connect with old schoolmates because of the trauma. Some will forever hate their teachers.
Did you suffer a childhood trauma either in school or your neighborhood? Do you still carry the scar or have found your confidence? I’ll like to learn about how it all started and the social and psychological impact. Or were you the tormentor? Don’t be shy, the only shame you’re allowed to feel is if you still have those demons dancing with your spirit.
Brushing my fingertips round and about my pubic hairs spread across my pelvic and around the lips of my vagina on many nights I’ve lost count, it is such a sweet feeling I cannot explain🤤. I play with the hairs, untangle them whilst scrolling through Instagram feeds with my other hand or trying to put me to bed. You can’t tell me otherwise, this is the best self-inflicting lullaby in the world🛌. So unfortunate, babies do not have pubic hairs, I could have recommended this therapy for nursing mums. Lol, I bet you just pictured a baby having pubic hairs🤣. At times I shave and I’m angry cause there’s nothing to hypnotize me in bed for the next two weeks🥲. How funny, Sometimes I forget I cleared the lawn, I happily dip my hands in my panties only to have my fingers walk on a distasteful bald head, yuck! What a bad night for the cut😒!? Shaving is no doubt sexy but I’ll rather not a clean one, trimming is my holy grail🤤. Ps. this does not apply to my underarm😑.
I feel it’s absolutely normal to itch your pelvic region and smell it. I’m always eager to know what it smells like😴. I hate the hypocrisy on social media, remind me of that Big Brother Naija housemate who was caught on camera digging for some gold down there and went ahead to smell the roses afterward😂. He attracted so much mockery for doing something normal. Best believe for every 9 out of 10, whenever my fingers find themselves in my pelvic, once they’re out, I sniff😇. I want to know what I smell like always, I want to know how awful or sweet, if they need more work or you know😉. How do I present a feast I have no idea how it tastes to the sons of men to devour🤭? It’s like cooking for a guest without tasting it, how do you know if it needs more or less salt or maybe pepper? Let’s quit the pretense, please. Damn you! I also smell my panties most times when I take them off🙄.
Sleep- You’ll mostly find me hugging my pillow or having it tucked in-between my legs when I’m asleep. And if I’m not sleeping stark naked, I’m either sleeping with only a polo on or wearing only my pants. And if push comes to shove with the weather, my pyjamas and hoodie comes to my rescue🛌.
Love- Jokes on the big idiot who came up with the phrase “love don’t cost a thing”, such foolish talk😑! to please who if I may ask? Love costs many things for me, apart from time and money, I hate that it keeps me on my toes, sometimes I’m so grounded in work and for an entire six hours, I’ve forgotten I have a boyfriend😖. And my phone beeps, shit! This nigga beat me to it, I guess he just remembered he has a girlfriend too😂.
Family- This is where forced love takes seed in me. I wish I could tell everyone off on this tree sometimes, but I’ve grown to realize the way they are unbearable sometimes to me is the same way I am to them🥺. I’m so unclear to my family members, I’ve learned to save them the trauma of discovering who I truly am and I think it’s okay😊. The most important thing is that I fulfill my quota as a member and everyone does the same, this way we find happiness🤗.
Kids- I’m ashamed to admit I got zero tolerance for kids🥴, the same way I react over an adult’s mistake of spilling water on the floor, is the same way I react when a kid does same😑. I feel like I need saving in this regard because I intend to birth kids someday too😍.
Friends– I have a handful of close friends, lowkey I think they are angry at me for not picking a best😏. But picking a best will make me solely dependent on someone who thinks it’s okay to be foolish even at serious moments🤣. I often wonder why good friends first laugh at your misery before figuring how to help though. Also what if I pick a best friend who cannot provide me with all the solutions? Friendship should be treated like work too, just like we deliver on our areas of strengths at work, friendship should be the same😁. Don’t you dare stress my brain! You ought to have several options to run to.
Dogs- I have two dogs and I wish they could talk, like real talk🗣. I figure I’ve made some wrong turns in life, I could use their advice because humans have failed me in this regard😖. I hate it when someone tries to mimic my dogs when they bark or say “shut up!” “stupid dog”, and then they project some boring laughter too, perhaps laughing at their own stupidity because I don’t get what’s so funny😖? Utterly disrespectful! How do you see a dog and resolve to insults and sometimes throw stones🥺? I often wish I could release my dogs for a chase so we’ll see who gets the last laugh😑. Whenever I hear tales that someone got bitten by a dog, in my mind I’m happy, dancing for joy🤣. Excuse me sir/ma, what did you do? I need to hear from the other party. Gosh! I really wish dogs could talk🥺.
Colleagues- (Except for few exceptions) If we work in the same place, I find it offensive that you’re looking me up on social media🙄. Trying to know how crazy my family is or what’s off about my personality? Why though?? Why do you wanna know me?? The only business we should have is work, I play my part excellently and that’s it😐. Office get-togethers have got to be the sickest initiative to come into existence, now what?? Should I get drunk in front of you all and dance my titties out🙄? Hell no! You won’t even come as far as viewing my WhatsApp status, I block you if I have to save your number and if I on a day the Lord made find your status on my feed, you’re blocked immediately. Honey, I do not wish to know you on that level, okay?😶
Nice- “I think you’re nice Uju, can we be friends?” For reasons best known to God, I still haven’t figured out why I hate being classified as “nice”🤣. I feel the word holds so much sentiment and shouldn’t be used in describing anyone. Ps. I’m not nice! don’t put me on that pedestal because by the time you see a fraction of my craze, you’ll feel like you’ve betrayed yourself and that shit hurts🧐. The word ‘nice’ messes so bad with my brain to a grave extent that if you ever say to me “I need you to meet *****, he’s a nice man”, I swear, I’m not meeting them🙄. And then when I ask you “how’s my outfit?”, you respond “It’s nice”, I automatically conclude you lack the core ingredients of being human, you should be a paper bag or something😪.
Food- Work comes first for me, for a fact, if I’m not getting a task right, I don’t see why I should eat🧐. Sometimes I feel my stomach groaning for help but my coconut brain is trying to finish up a task first so I plead with my stomach to plead with my brain to come through so that we all can be happy😁. Food tastes so much better for me when my mind is fulfilled on a task👍.
Sweets- I chew sweets the moment they land their feet on my tongue, Do you lick or chew sweets? Do people really lick sweets? Do you? 🤔
Looks- Not my client getting thrilled after visiting this website (Muttering Minds) and affirming he wouldn’t pay me my balance until he sees what I look like. Must be crack right😏? What is it with people and wanting to know how I look? Enjoy the conversation dammit😑! I prefer to commune via chats (mails especially) with people I don’t know from adam, I don’t care to imagine how or what they look like. You soil the relationship the moment you ask to see what I look like😑. Don’t ask! I’ll randomly send you jpegs on my very good days, be patient😂.
Phone Calls- I slightly get irked or really irritated whenever my phone rings especially if I’m not expecting a delivery😒. More than half the time I don’t pick up, I find myself contemplating a thousand and over reasons why you must be calling me😏. Text is better, it lessens my anxiety. The most annoying thing is calling me when my phone’s hotspot is connected to my laptop☹, now I how to wait for your call to stop before I continue working, the audacity! My mum is guilty of this, I’ve pleaded with her several times to call me preferably on Whatsapp if she must but no, African parents make the rules🤦♀️. She rings my phone for every reason in the world, sometimes she calls me just to tell me how she doesn’t understand why my dad is not picking her calls and that I should check if he’s home, I figure my dad is tired too🤣. I enjoy phone calls sometimes though, but that’s rare.
STUPID STATEMENTS/ QUESTIONS PEOPLE ASK
“In no particular Order”- I automatically conclude you’re a blatant liar the moment you say this before calling out names. The first few names you called are the ones most important to you; they wouldn’t come first in your head if they aren’t, so quit lying through your teeth😑.
“Kindly follow back”– Hellooo!!! I’ve seen you followed me and that’s on you🙄. Now can you let me decide if to follow back or not? Is it supposed to be blood for blood🙄?
“Are you good in bed?”– How do you expect me to know? So dumb! 😖 You should ask people who’ve had their share of the cake. Besides its relative, what’s good for them might be bad for you🙅♀️.
“Do you have a crush?”- I’m sorry I cannot relate🙄, especially with how people describe what their crushes do to them. I am not possessed please🤣🤣.
“What’s your best color?”- If I’ve ever given you an answer to this question, I was only trying to curtail your leeching curiosity🤣. I do not have a best color, yellow can look good on a tee but very alarming on my feet. It depends on the item really. If you have a favorite color you are a cow🤣🤣
“Can you do me a Favor?”- Do you expect me to say no upfront☹? Don’t start a conversation with me on these lines, go ahead and say what you want, and then leave my capacity to be the judge😐.
NOW PICK THE BATON!!
Sure you’ve been wondering what kind of individual wears such a weighty personality🤣🤣. Well, that’s me and I may be pleased to meet you too🤭. This week I took time to think introspectively about my personality, especially these bits. I realize that they go a long way in defining my personhood😄. I thought of sharing it with you all, with high hopes that you’ll check my list or cross them😁. It’s a long list I know, but I’m curious to ask, do we share some traits at least😅? Tell me what and what we have in common😉, and which of them leaves you in shock🤣🤣. You can also add more to your list even the ones I didn’t state. I’m somewhat happy I got to write this so that whenever someone harrasses me with the “tell me about yourself” question, I’ll just pull up with this link🤣🤣🤣. God bless their aching souls they hate reading 🤣🤣🤣.
As usual, I’ll kill a roach to have your comments so please, indulge me. Tell me about you too and how connected we are in the comments section. 😄👇👇
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Hehehehehehe😁…laughter not too funny yet funny☺…Shall we? So this is our first virtual court case on Muttering Minds where both warring parties don’t get to see yet debate tooth and nail on my proposed topic, weighing the odds and bright sides from their personal biased view😉.
Shall we? Is age really just a number especially when it comes to relationships or a sour lime we painstakingly shove past our throat under the aegis of “live and let live”🤔? Ladies, would you for any reason accommodate yourself in a relationship with a younger guy? Men, how attractive are older women for an item before they get like rotten bananas and are disposed of😏?
Source- Red Bubble
First Hearing (MEN🤤)- Representative Brawn
The older the berry, the sweeter the ***** (fill the gap🤤). Older women have always fascinated me since my teenage years. Their poise and psychological makeup are unmatched. And dammit she got big titties🤤🤤…O dear Delilah, just come and ride my horse however you please while I get hypnotized by those not pluckable yet suckable oranges as they bounce through left🥵, right up and down while my pupil tries to keep up a steady gaze and my tongue lusts to taste the areola🥵🥵.
Older women are not caught up in childish games these smelly young girls are fond of🤮. They aim at their prey and fire the shot. My first sex experience was with an older lady; it’s one worthy of hitting the Guinness record because dear mama took me on a whirlwind of romance and aggression🥵🥵. I felt like a pro, I can imagine having that with a girl my age and looking for the clitoris or vagina🙄. I bet she’ll laugh and then go over to tell her folks how slow I am😖. Older women don’t care, they teach you how to worship them🤤🤤.
I met an older chic during my WAEC examination, that was my first encounter. She was my first target after a series of fantasies and alas faith brought us together🙈. She stood out beautifully to an extent all the boys wanted her. We sat closely for two weeks but never spoke yet every night I’ll fantasize about the shape of her butt🙈🤤.
I was too shy to approach her and as though nature wanting to play unfortunate cards, my close friend started telling me about how much he’s been crushing on her😖. There was too much joy written all over his face, would this mean me respecting the bro code? Well, we’ll see about that. The next day he came over to my class and tried talking to her and that’s how I got involved🤣🤣. Like such a moment where your friend brings a babe and you suddenly become the comedian🤣🤣. I laughed at him in my mind yet acted like I didn’t know what game I was playing🙃.
I and the barbie got along, it was a rare connection. Tell you what, she’s also been low key feeling the boy for a while😎. She knew my name, birth date, and added that we share the same birth month but different years. I was shocked because, despite the long tail difference in age, she accommodated my friendship☺.
To cut to the chase, she asked me out. Such bravery! And she didn’t die o😌. We kept the relationship on a low and since she was my seat partner nobody suspected. If you’ve watched “A Fall From Grace”, that was how everything went (excluding the scam🤗). She was all colors of romantic, and the sex like I described earlier was the bomb🧨. Unfortunately, we lost communication after the exams because my phone caught a fever and my not so darling friend who still remains pissed about what happened in the ’90s blatantly refused to give me her number🤣.
It was all fun while it lasted though. Call me strange, but I sometimes feel I am living way above my age especially in my love life😉. She raised the bar for me and since then I get entwined with older women. I’ve tried girls my age but nahhhhh🤮, they seem to mess it up one way or the other especially with silly demands (begi begi FC🙄).
Hmmmmmm so would I get married to an older woman🤔? Well, this is tough. Asides that it’s hard to find an older woman who can throw caution to the wind and tell society that she’s in love with a young man old enough to be her son, childbearing comes to mind too😖. I love kids and there’s this thing I heard about older women not being able to have kids when they turn 40. I stand corrected🙈.
Also, the imagined screams of my mother saying “Abomination!!! Abomination!!!” 🤣🤣the moment I dare introduce a woman twice my age as a wife🤣🤣. And again, would she accord me due respect as the man of the house? *Covers face*. At the end of the day, I’ll be back to marrying one of these younger ladies who think they know it all🥺🤨. The older the berry, the sweeter the juice… but this particular juice is like munching on sugar cane, sapping the juice, and throwing the shaft away😪. Unfortunately, the joy doesn’t last, especially in this part of our world🥺. However, until marriage calls (that’s if it ever will😌) I’ll be on my grind cruising on matured titties of older women🤤. Until then…
Second Hearing (Women🤯)- Representative JULES
“Jules, I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said to me pleading and sober. Nah, this is a pretentious act to get me to accept his foolery huh🙄? “What if I hadn’t subconsciously glanced through your International Passport guy🤯?” Finding out his real age on that green sheet made me swore I had dyslexia, that’s how much I trusted him🧐.
Whaaaatttt! I’ve been dating a younger male for four months and I freaking had no clue🤯.
“I thought you were okay with dating a younger male?”, my girlfriend asked in response to my lamentations🥺.
I’ve always been of the idea that it doesn’t matter who’s older in the relationship, so long as there’s an understanding and love, as the heart chooses who it accepts and there’s nothing you can do about it. But you know it’s easier said than done🤨. Liesssss oooo🤨🤨. Experiencing it first hand is a different ball game entirely😪.
“Wait babe, you mean to tell me I’m two years older than you are when all the while I’ve been thinking you’re 3years older than me?” Ah🤯, Julesbaeby you’ve hit the bottom rock🏽♀️ men will always embarrass you no matter their age tueh🤮! I felt abused, by a minor for that matter and this wasn’t a good feeling at all😵.
Love hits differently for a lady when she realizes her heart craves the attention of a man younger than she is. Staying strong for me, I let go of the idiot🙄, bearing in mind to always enlist age as a first date question with proof of birth of course😂! You see the beard gang members especially, do not be deceived by the number of hairs fallowing under their jaws and across their chins, it’s a facade😂😂. Most of their ages are not even up to a fraction of the hair strands you see. ASK THEIR AGE O!😂😂
It seems like the idiot forgot to close the gate on minors after he vanished as more began to flood me afterward🤧. “She’s a small girl, let me shoot my shots”… perhaps there’s nothing cute about owning a small body otherwise how would this dunce I’m ten years older than have the courage to profess decayed love to me😩😩?
Did I really learn my lessons?
Fast forward>>>>> I got introduced to this handsome well built young man after a series of failed relationships😣.
Please pay attention…
My first conversation with him was magical and I thought, “this is it!”. But as a Lagos girl who prides in being chased by a man🙃, I took my time to let things play out while observing due protocols like daily checkups, (as per doctor😂), mushy texts, and sharing food of course😜. Meanwhile, I was flashing green lights like a traffic warden “Brother ask me out now, let me just say YES🤣🤣”.
One day, I saw “In case you’ve been wondering who my heart beats for🏾” captioned on a post he made on his WhatsApp status🙈, I immediately reached for my medicated lens to be sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me as to whom the caption was referring to. His next post read “Happy nerdy birthday to the LOML”.Then I paused and thought aloud🤔, “I’m a nerd, but today’s not my birthday, is this a prank😩?”, and then boom the face was revealed. I swallowed my greenlight at that point and didn’t care if it’ll choke me😵😖.
I caught myself typing “Happy birthday to bae”, and NO! I didn’t mean that at all, “You’re a mother fucker” was what I intended to type😩.
I stopped communicating with him afterward, till karma brought him to me unannounced at an event. We got along well enough and I realized I still had a soft spot for him🙃, up until we had the dreaded age conversation and it was revealed I was 6years older🤯.
“Whaaaatttt!!! child abuse!!!”. We had already done some tasty lip-locking🤮, monkey bed adventures🤮, nothing short of a love cruise😵. Where do I begin to end this menace🥶? Maybe this was why he introduced me to “The Men’s Club” series, he must have known of the age gap all along and was hoping I could be his Mrs. Lawson. Well, too bad my laws will not harbor any supposed son as a lover. Never😖!
No doubt Frank is a very nice and sweet guy but the age difference is terrifying😭. I weighed our communication wave since we met and realized I have been more of a mother figure than a lover😤. I carried his emotional baggage, gave him the best advice and I’m sure lowkey I served as his tutor to loving his girlfriend even more😡. That moment when you dish smart advice to someone and they flip the table when you are not there like they are the ones who came up with it😤. I know that nigga did that. Maybe a subliminal action from him but that’s what comes with dating a minor as a lady🤮.
Putting a “JUST GOOD BUDDIES” tag on Frank was a good decision for me. Ain’t nobody being a rehab or mother figure😌, I’ll rather be buried six feet with my feelings, cold and single still😌. Ladies! If you think you can deal with dating a younger male, I don’t know how you do it, but I don’t want to learn🛀.
*Coughs*🤣🤣…Ladiessssss…do you agree with your representative; darling Jules😄? Guyssssss did your guy Brawn make any sense😌? Is age really a number especially when it involves romantic relationships? Let’s talk. As a lady, would you date a younger man for any reason? And what’s the age difference you can accommodate😃? If you’ve had such an experience, it will be interesting to fill us in about how it went down☺…or how it’s going😉. To the men, let’s know your sentiments toward older women in a relationship🤓.
Despite meeting a series of guys who’ve said to me that they prefer older ladies, I have never met a lady who openly says that she loves them young😏. So who are the ladies dating younger guys🤔? Perhaps it’s much fun in secrecy huh🤭? This is a fun topic… let’s discuss in the comment section. Shall we?👇👇
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My first sex was more of an abuse than an experience, 10-years-old me getting deflowered by my female cousin who I think was about 18-years-old. Looking back, I wonder how a teenager got so spoilt, perhaps she was abused too.
She always came over especially during the weekend and on one occasion, she took a liking to touch me when no one was home. I didn’t think much of it then as I always felt since she bathed me and she was older there was no reason to object. Maybe I liked it also, I can never say, but then she kept playing with my penis every time we were alone. Fortunately for her, we were always alone, as I was an only child then and my parents were never around.
One day, I was on my bed reading (one of those kid storybooks) when she came in and asked me to massage her back. I was glad to abandon my book as I was already bored, she took off her clothes in front of me and made me stare at her boobs. I was amazed at the sight so I got on her back and started rubbing her back. She turned and I had her breasts in my hands. She got me to rub them and before I knew it, she already got my penis out of my pants.
Then she asked me to take my clothes off and lie on my back. I obeyed and she started blowing me, I had never ever felt the way I felt that day. It wasn’t comfortable, the only thing I knew my penis was for was to pee, the idea of a mouth sucking it was strange and confusing for me. After that she started fingering herself and she sat on my dick, at first I didn’t know what she was doing was called sex, it didn’t even occur to me that that moment would mar my life for a very long time. She got on with riding me till I started crying and grumbling that my penis was hurting. She threatened that if I don’t remain quiet, she was going to slap me. She kept riding and moaning until she started shivering and collapsed on me. Afterwards, she got dressed and acted like that day never happened till today.
It was like a game I didn’t understand, from that moment I wasn’t the same, I kept wondering what happened. I was confused and curious to know what we did, I couldn’t ask my parents because we were not close. I didn’t know I was even dis-virgined until two years later when I watched my first porn and knew what sex really was. I got curious and wanted to experience the feeling again. I became obsessed with anything that had to do with sex.
I wanted to experience that feeling again with my cousin. I was addicted to her, I would smell her panties and clothes, even if it’s just to feel myself and get hard. Unlike me, she was mean to me afterwards, she never called me up for it and kept acting like nothing happened. But I wanted her, I wanted her to ride me again, but she never wanted me again. I was obsessed with her until I was about seventeen years old.
The incident made me addicted to sex. I lost count of the number of girls I have slept with just to experience that never-ending lust and sexual urge my cousin created in me. I couldn’t have a normal relationship with girls, I didn’t have a female friend that I never wanted to sleep with, my relationships didn’t last four months as I was never satisfied with the same girl after three times of having sex with them.
Much later in my adult life, it dawned on me that it wasn’t normal so I opted to see a counsellor. I realized the sexual abuse was what triggered my obsession with sex so I began therapy. As time went on, I got help and started living a normal life.
You might think that my opinion is biased because of my experience but sex is overrated. I know a lot of styles and I’ve slept with all types of girls, so it really isn’t anything more than the penetration and cumming after minutes of pounding. There’s no soul connection or bond there, it isn’t two lovers meeting each other in blissful pleasure and harmony, it’s just sex.
Virgins shouldn’t burst their caps or sweat their balls trying to perfect their first time, but they should just be careful with who they lose it to because we always most of the time end up getting addicted to our first partners.
Last midnight, a friend called me, she sounded so frantic with her voice drowning in tears. She said her younger brother who relocated abroad sometime last year is likely to get deported back to Nigeria because of the possession of hard drugs.
I tried to pacify her the best way I could, urging her to be optimistic, hopefully, he won’t be deported. But she went on with the grumblings and then, she uttered a statement that threw me off balance. “This is such a disgrace to my family, where do we begin?”
“Wow! Like where do you begin? How? I don’t understand what you mean”, I queried. Then I asked her “Are you worried about disgrace or concerned for morality?” then viola! My beloved girlfriend went mute.
Many times we are angry at bad behaviors exhibited by family members or friends for selfish reasons. We don’t even care about the moral implications of what happened, all we see is the disgrace brought upon us. We give no hoot about tracking the foundation of the problem, why they acted unrulily, and if we can help them overcome the situation.
It’s typical, especially for African parents to nag their kids as a forewarning not to indulge in bad behavior. “Don’t even think of disgracing this family, Don’t! If not I will disown you”. Aren’t we supposed to analyze bad occurrences using morality as a yardstick? The truth is nobody plans to bring shame to their loved ones. Mistakes occur under circumstances we wish we can avert, but it’s unfortunate we can’t.
Nine out of ten parents will go bonkers on hearing the news that their teenage daughter is pregnant out of wedlock, or their teenage son impregnates a fellow teen. Their anger is usually centered on “What will people say, how will they begin to view this family” Instead of “My son/daughter has gone wrong, how can I instill some morals so it doesn’t repeat itself”
It is far more glorious to tell the defaulter the moral implication of what they have done and going forward, how they can be better. The deed is done already. Feeling annoyed that your reputation has been trampled upon will only get the offender to move by without remorse and if they get the chance, they’ll do it again.
To commemorate the International Women’s Day celebration yesterday (March 8), more than a majority hopped on the #EachforEqual hashtag, even the ones ignorant about the true meaning.
While the #EachforEqual tag trended on social media, especially Twitter. What got my attention more was Wema Bank’s newsletter which blew some hot steam. A part of it read: “We want more doctorate degree holders whose fathers didn’t question educating a girl child because they fear he won’t uphold his last name anyway. Understandably, we want better. We want more. We want equal.”
The Deposit Money Bank concluded its letter with a triggering statement which read “But we are the mothers raising patriarchal sons, the bosses who make it difficult for female subordinates, and the friends who won’t speak up when male friends do wrong”
Below the belt? Well not for me. As a lady, the statement made me question the essence of feminism which preaches “equal right for both genders”. But the question is, do feminists actually want equality?
Famous for the #SexForGrades documentary, BBC reporter, Kiki Mordi took to Twitter and responded to Wema Banks newsletter. She tweeted; “So why are you funding the patriarchy? Until we take decisive actions to stop putting our very limited resources into businesses that refuse to be gender-sensitive, we will keep dancing around in circles. #BoycottWemaBank until they apologize to you. Your money is worth respect”
Before now, Kiki Mordi through several tweets and social projects has been tagged as an unapologetic feminist, little wonder why she was able to stir trouble from a supposed harmless tweet. It got me thinking “What exactly do feminist want, equality or superiority?”, I have to ask because the way they get easily triggered is so repulsive.
How do you pounce on a truthful text that reflects the reality of the society we live in? Is the truth that bitter? Women preach feminism yet can’t bear to see the other woman take a step higher than them. Female bosses continue to make the workspace difficult like they are in a competition of bagging a trophy for the worst boss.
You preach feminism when there are still women who indulge their male friends to cause harm or mock a female they don’t like. Like charity begins at home, morals should begin within the female circle first. If you don’t love the woman next to you, If you can’t tell her with confidence and smiles that her speech at the conference was brilliant, if you can’t tell her how gorgeous she looks in that dress, how do you preach feminism when your gender is broken?
These women are seeking equality in certain areas whilst oblivious to the rest. If you are seeking equality, you should be able to pay the bills, fix the tyre, secure the house, etc but unfortunately, they only seek equality in the career and social sphere, neglecting the home.
These women seek to be the MD/CEO’s just like the men which are very impressive but what about other areas? I mean, your home!
Referencing what Wema bank said, are mothers training their children to exercise equal rights in the home? Looking at various homes today, although modernized, it’s still the same setting. The boys are allowed to watch TV while the girls are mandated to be in the kitchen because one day they will be married. If equality for both genders will be a reality shouldn’t it like charity, begin at home?
If we are going to hop on the #eachforequal trend then we must be able to fit into where the men fit into at all levels even paying the bills.
The truth is, we are created differently with different responsibilities. Even the Bible we reference sometimes does not put the female where the man is supposed to fit in.
As much as we want to be equal, We must not forget the future of the next generation. Are we training them to fight for equality to the detriment of embracing their own unique features? Are we training them to replace good morals with equality? As we climb the career ladder, the home that forms a nation must never be neglected. #EachforEqual.
Mynewly-wedded friend asked me a very pertinent question last week and pleaded I discuss it with you beautiful people.
She asked, “Why are people always eager to know the gender of a baby on receiving the news of a newly-born ?” she insists that it is wrong for a person to ask immediately if it is a baby boy or girl.
I am guilty of this and I bet the majority of us are. Well, my reason for asking is just mere curiosity. I feel it’s abnormal to tell a person you have just put to birth and they don’t inquire about the baby’s gender but go about rejoicing anyway.
The question ‘Is it a boy or girl?’ is linear. it’s a subconscious follow on hearing the news of a birth. Nothing serious for me though. Imagine you tell me you’ve just been delivered of a baby, and I didn’t ask what gender it is, won’t you feel like there’s something wrong about my head? Well, I will feel so if I were in your shoes.
Again I ask so I can have an image to feed my mind with before I get to see the child, no ulterior motives intended, just a benign inquiry.
But trust me I understand my friend’s plight and I bet if you grew up in a typical African home, you can tell why she’s unhappy about the question.
Some people ask due to the cynical way their brain is wired. They applaud one sex as stronger and better than the other. They practically ask to know if to conserve their joy depending on what gender it is, especially when it’s the first child. Some believe certain sex must precede the other…sure you know what I am driving at.
I always say I’m a different kind of lesbian considering my background. I never went to a boarding school, or so to say, ‘an only girls’ boarding school as that’s one of the backboned reasons people attribute as the cause of being a lesbian. Also, I grew up in a catholic home with a single mother who did all she could to make sure we weren’t exposed to sexual stuff and immoralities to the best of her abilities so if there was anyone who should not be sexually aware it would be me.
The purpose of sharing this is to tell you all about my lesbian marriage, but I reckon a bit of a back story would give you a clearer picture of my personhood.
I was molested as a child, should that have been a tangible reason to want to spend the rest of my life with a lady? Hello No.
I was prepared early for marriage and had my first marriage proposal at thirteen to the delight of my mother who believes if a girl marries early it means she was raised well and that she would make an ideal wife. I didn’t give any of her suitor recommendations a chance though, rather I lived most of my adult life running away from home to avoid marriage proposals and my mother’s 2 am conversations. Has it been easy being on the run? Hell no!!
I remember clearly the first time I had a crush on a girl, I was in primary three and she was a new pupil. I remember her well each time I prick my memory and several other crushes I had while growing up. All the while I didn’t think there were people anywhere in the world like me.
My first relationship (If I should call it that) was with an older married woman and I think that set me on the wrong track of taking love from whichever angle it was thrown at me. I was a child, about 16-years-old and we had met in a church group. I had a mad crush on her and my friend ended up ratting me out to her. I was mostly grateful she even looked my way because she was hot and way older than me so I was totally out of her league. I allowed her to treat me however she deemed fit, called only when she wanted to talk and saw me when she was in the mood. Everything happened only at her timing and that spilled off to my ensuing relationships. I just allowed people to treat me however they liked, even if I knew how I should be treated, I just didn’t protest for fear of losing them. But I’ve grown past that and learned to demand things exactly as I want them. I started off on the wrong foot but am grateful for the lessons and growth.
MY LESBIAN MARRIAGE
Even though the option was never made available for me as a child, I always knew that if I wanted a happy life then I’d have to marry a girl. Probably a white girl because I was going to do whatever it’ll take to escape Nigeria and migrate abroad so I could live life the way I wanted. But life had a different plan for me and I always imagine God looking down at me and smiling, knowing it won’t happen as chronologically as I had planned it to.
Before I met my wife I was sure of the life I wanted and how I wanted it. I wanted someone I can build a life with, someone who does not care about proving anything to anyone, and I stuck with my guts. I didn’t care how long I was going to be single because I was now on social media and now I could see people doing it and I knew it was what I wanted and I was going to keep living until someone who wanted the same things came along. I met my wife on my page @diaryofanaijalesbian, she had come to rant about issues and we just started talking all the time and before we knew it we just got used to talking to each other all time. Then we planned a short visit and got trapped due to covid lockdown which forced us to be in each other’s space than we had planned. And viola! A three-day visit became a two months visit because I was waiting for the airport to reopen.
Our lives changed for the better forever. I tell people there were no special events or romantic moments that happened prior to our meeting, I just needed someone who had an understanding of who they are and what they want, and she came with my whole list ticked. I knew she was going to be my wife when we had conversations on what we both wanted and we were very honest in that conversation. We put our cards on the table, talked about roles, kids, managing relatives, and gossips. We realized and agreed we wanted the same things. I didn’t care who will be vexed with the fact that I am choosing myself and living on my own terms.
Like I said earlier before marriage, I left home early because I knew that was the only way I could buy myself time to live the way I’ve always wanted. My younger brother is the only person in my house that knows about my wife and he loves her so much. As per my wife’s family, I’d say they choose the path of pretending to be ignorant and we are both enjoying that. Her sisters who know are super amazing and we are grateful for them because they go far and beyond to make life easier for us.
I am a Nigerian Igbo lesbian and you know how patriarchy is often attributed to the Igbos, likewise the tribes’ enormous frown at the existence of LGBTQ, right!? Well, that’s not the scary part of our relationship. My wife is from northern Nigeria, a geographical location where you can’t be older than 25years and single without living like an outcast, now that’s scary. However, we do not care what anybody feels, we love each other and will keep living one day at a time as the universe allows us.
Did we have a wedding ceremony? I always laugh before responding to this question anytime it arises and my response is that I am married and not wedded. Marriage happens before weddings and so we haven’t had a ceremony to celebrate our vows to each other to do life together. The ceremony was us making that life-changing vows to each other and choosing to be wives for the rest of our lives.
I think everything about same-sex co-existence especially in this clime relies on conversations and honesty. Before my wife and I moved from relationship to the commitment, I remember we had a lot of honest conversations where we talked about everything. She had our son in a previous marriage and he calls us Mama and Mom, and everybody around us knows that and when they ask we simply tell them he has two moms and end the conversation there. I don’t see any reason to start explaining to anyone why it is like that.
I agreed to have our own kids when we are ready. We intend to buy sperm and do IVF or get a donor and use the artificial insemination process.
Marriage is a co-existence of two people who understand that they both need each other to navigate life as it happens to them whether straight or queer. There is absolutely no difference between both despite popular opinions. People tend to generally think queer relationships are easier than straight ones and it’s a funny mindset if you ask me because in straight relationships there is already a societal manuscript to follow while for us, we are out here shooting blank, trying to pull through in a world where men are known to navigate life easier than women. Marriage generally demands love, loyalty, dedication, and commitment and it’s not different for gay marriages.
I have never been in a straight marriage before but I’ve been around people who are and I’ll say that discussing roles is usually not the norm in straight marriages as it is in queer marriages. This is because like earlier stated straight marriages have manuscripts they imitate whereas in gay marriages especially in this clime depends on the individuals. For us, there were roles we had to spell out but mostly we just wing it as we go depending on our individual strengths and otherwise. We have our biological roles sorted out like who gets to have which of our babies, whose families we can trust with certain aspects of our lives and who goes to a 9-5, and who runs the home front. But asides from these, other things we wing as they happen mostly because there are no role models or books to rely on so we are mostly shooting blank.
NOT ALL ROSES
I am very confident in how much we love each other and the life we are building and I don’t regret any part of my life as it is. I am confident in the person I chose to do life with me. Has it always been rosy? Hell no!!! We have had to fight ourselves and each other to be here but every day the universe keeps giving reasons to keep choosing each other. Most days are blissful and rosy, other days the world just wants to remind us to not relax too much and we are grateful for how much we have grown and if it ever comes to choosing my wife again? I’ll choose her still because as hard as it is to be a lesbian in this clime it is even harder to find someone who wants the same things as you do and that’s a gift we both do not take for granted (if am to speak for her).
My issue with many Nigerian queer couples in the path of coexistence is that most tend to forget easily that they live in a country where their sheer existence is illegal. I understand the need to push beyond the law but I see no reason to try to be a martyr about it. I don’t need to post a picture of my wife and me kissing on social media to prove anything to anybody, I don’t need to come out to every tom-dick-harry to make my point, I owe no one no explanations. And when anybody asks I choose whether to let them in or not, our story is on a need-to-know basis depending on who is asking.
I don’t think it is the SSMPA that is stopping us from living our best lives here in Nigeria, I think it is our need to live in people’s faces and prove points. As much as this is not so bad, we should also remember that before the anti-gay bill was passed by the senate, people have been homophobic and hypocritical so instead of living life to prove any point to anybody, I think life would be easier if we focus on getting through one day at a time and loving the people that love us the best way we can. The law is not responsible for all the vices within the community, so instead of looking at a law passed in Abuja, we should look inward and do our best to be good and kind people.
You are not entitled to any explanations and it is not religious to ostracize and criminate things because they are not in an age-old book that hasn’t been reviewed. Stop swallowing words from the pulpit and learn to educate yourself. Unlearn, relearn and keep learning. Live and let live too.
Feel free to relay your reservations about my story in the comments section, likewise any questions you might have (will try to answer them). If you’re a queer reading this, probably married or single, I’ll appreciate it if you can share your break-free stories too. 😁👇