muttering minds, Author at MutteringMinds

I am Muttering

The First Son Curse

By muttering minds May 27, 2022

9 min read

Did the title already give this out? Well, I’m sure you’re no novice to the trendy saying “Everyone is going through a lot”. And how hilarious can it get when you stumble on a further read… “Go through it, it’s your turn, dont disturb us”? While this statement has a way of cracking at least a single rib of mine and in fact serves a not literal consolation hug when I’m walking the shadows of what the society reckons as a pedestal for success, sometimes I pause to think. Is it just a phase for everyone? Of course not! For some, the struggles only ascend different phases, a light at the end of the tunnel is but a mirage. Success to these ones have become a necessary evil… and you know what their first crime is? Being the first son and to add salt to injury, the first fruit of their parents. A mantle whose glory shuffles amid a biological and societal curse.

As it is naturally impossible for me to follow in the wake of experiences meted on first sons and narrate from a first person’s view, I decided to invite three over to reveal their raw share of the burden ever since they kissed mother earth welcome. I categorize their submissions as a blend of the seemingly privileged, the early disadvantaged, and the race as seen even in teenage hood. Together, they give a varying exposure of what first sons are burdened with. Let’s proceed from the middle.

The Early Disadvantaged (Henry)

“I’m sorry, but my mum advised me not to date first sons because they have ‘too many’ responsibilities” This utterance formed part of the pixels that lead to the fatal end of Henry’s first love affair, and as much as persuasion could have bought him some time, how much longer could she keep up with cuddling empty promises?

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Deep down, I knew she had a valid point, cause my siblings would always call me to attend to their needs financially. Any sane thinking lady would ask herself questions like; how soon would this man be able to stand without staggering on both feet? Can he give me the life I want knowing his family’s burden? Would this still be our reality when we get married?

It’s a cold world for men and an utterly frozen one for first sons like myself. I don’t come from a rich family. We are not rich, neither are we poor. We are trying our best. My late father never regarded education, he was a driver before he died, and likewise his other brother, except his twin who stands out as a businessman. As God would have it, I am the first graduate in my family, not just my nuclear family, but my extended family too. Since I lost my dad, I’ve multitasked being a father & brother to my siblings and husband to my mum. The reason I haven’t started living on my own is because I live for my family. Any revenue I get from whatsoever business I do, I channel it to my family. I’ve been hustling since age 11 when my father died, I recall in Jss2 how I always went to school with a hammer and nails to help my classmates fix their broken lockers at the rate of N150. I had no choice, if I didn’t do it, I’ll be hungry and likewise my siblings too. Mehn leave talk o, the hustle don tey.

My mother has made herself a promise that all her children are going to be graduates and as God would have it, our last born, my only sister, is in her first year in the university. Coupled with the numerous challenges living in Nigeria brings my way, the burden of the first son seems unending especially for a young man like myself in his late 20’s. It’s rather ironic how my siblings see me as an answered prayer not minding how the shoes pinch. I always give in to their demands, maybe not everything but at least to a percentage. I’ve had to make strange sacrifices just to put food on the table, for instance, last year I drove a car from Lagos to Asaba just to earn small money. I mean this is not a bad thing, but I drove it at night , I left at 12 am and arrived in Asaba at 6am. We drove in a convoy. Normally I wouldn’t take the risks knowing the epileptic security situation in Nigeria, but thinking of what problems the money would solve in my family, I’m moved.

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As the leader of the pack, how I behave also affects my siblings, which is why I strive to be well behaved. They look up to my achievements and dread making mistakes I made. Sometimes I wish that life played out differently, not in a way that avoids me being the first son but in a way that I was buoyant enough to help one person to financial liberation and that person helps another, and before you know it everyone would be okay. Unfortunately the dice doesn’t roll in this direction.

My mum often tells me to calm down that what is meant for you would come . But she has no idea how it is to be set as a yardstick for success when you’re not successful even a bit. I live for the day when my mum would be greeted with the question “How is Henry? Does he have a job yet?” and there goes my mum, responding with pride and utmost happiness. I know I’m not supposed to pay no mind to the pressure, but personally, I feel the need to. I want to shoulder these responsibilities. The title of being the first son pressures me to succeed. I just want to succeed by all means.

The Race As Seen Even In Teenage Hood (Oluwole)

It’s how I’m always expected to be the smartest one among my siblings, albeit I’m still young and under my parents’ care. “You are not meant to be this densed, you are the first child”, I often got this remark from my teachers and peers at any slight misbehavior I projected in college. Whew! The last time I checked, no man had all the answers, so why me?? Oluwole screams.

I have two siblings (male and female), my Mum works as a medical staff of TCN and my Dad works from home (well IDK what he actually does). Both parents are not strict, meaning I have some freedom, privacy and love from them but I am introverted and that means I do not share anything in detail with my parents aside from academics. Now you see the root of my own pressure. According to my parents I am supposed to be great at my academics, better than everybody. But unfortunately, my brain can only take what it can, thankfully, their expectations have been lowered to “at least, do not get less than a C in any subject”.

Read: Rare Insecurities, My Ordeal With the Slim Curse

My parents do not compare me to my siblings but I am expected to take care of the house well while my siblings can slack off. I must show great leadership. As the first, I am automatically responsible for myself and my siblings behavior as long as I can control it. My siblings can be infuriating sometimes but my parents encourage me to take full responsibility for their misdeeds. If my brother wants to beat the shit out my sister I have to separate and vice versa. It is not always easy because I could get hit too and I might have difficulty not slapping the hell out of them.

I loathe the fact that people assume that because one is a firstborn child, he has a higher IQ than the later born siblings or peers. Another assumption is that it influences personality traits and is less likely to be rebellious. I’m yet to find the correlation between birth order and IQ ratings and also being less rebellious is not true as I question absolutely anything.

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I don’t really know what I want to do with my life but I dream of becoming a pro football player but I study computer science. I just want to be successful at any path life takes me. I have struggled with academia for a long time and the improvements I have made with my studies have been as slight as the improvements of FIFA games since 2016. I also can be insolent or nonchalant about serious issues sometimes, plus some social awkwardness. The firstborn “title” is nothing to me.

The Seemingly Privileged (Uche)

Does being born with a silver spoon make the math math? Let’s hear from Uche…

Growing up with three siblings (two male & one female), we had everything we wanted. My dad is a trader who frequently travels. When we were kids, he would appease us with lots of latest toys and other goodies. I didn’t know there was a thing as pressure until I journeyed into the university and blended with different kinds of people. I wouldn’t have believed if anyone told me at 20, they had to cater for their own fees and meals. These experiences as well as interactions I witnessed changed my perception about life, I knew I had to level up.

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I desire to surpass my father’s achievement. He started trading at age 17, made a lot of money and by 21, he had gotten his first car, renovated his family house and progressed well in importation of Jewelries and clothes, and good sales in Engine Oil. I’m in my mid 20’s and I haven’t scratched the chronicles of his achievement, ain’t I a joke? Truth be told, my parents do not care. My father always advises me to calm down and says that the economic situation in our era is way different from his.

Read: Rare Insecurities, Embracing the Bald Curse

The pressure comes from knowing that we are both getting old (My father and I). I feel like I need to make my own money to take care of him and my mum. You may say isn’t his wealth a fall back plan? Well anything can happen, and I would want to be prepared financially.

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Guess what?! as the first Son, I’m expected to marry from my village, not just my state o, but from my village. It’s a price I must pay. I spoke to my mum about this and she’s not open to me marrying outside my village, let alone outside Anambra state. Yes, I’m from Anambra, guess my statement seals your belief on the speculations/statements on the timeline about Anambra men being mummy’s boy lol, that’s not true o. I feel it lacks spice to marry someone from the same village, we would see how it goes though.

Is It Truly To Live?

Like I said earlier, to some, the hustle gives room for no breather. A first born who is equally a first son is like an octopus with many legs, shouldering different tasks at once. Talking to these men, I could not relate 100% and I am sure quite a number of you reading cannot relate vividly too. That’s because it takes experience to relate vividly.

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On this note, I’d like to rub minds with you. In your opinion, how can first sons feel invincible to the pressure? How can they navigate it better? Do you agree that to truly live as the first son one must shoulder responsibilities? If you’re a first son/child reading this, I’d like to hear of your share of experience too. What is it like and how are you able to put your head above the water? If you do not fall in the aforementioned category, your opinion matters too. Consider this an opportunity to recall sacrifices from that pillar of support sibling in your family. How have they impacted your life in the past years and what advice would you give them? Leave your comments below 🙂👇👇.

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I am Muttering

Men Talk: The Emotional Implication of Deflowering a Lady

By muttering minds March 4, 2022

9 min read

If you asked 10 men if they’re open to date a virgin lady, 7 of them are sure to slap you back with a resounding ‘NO’. Or maybe it’s all bants when social media is involved huh? Well, I decided to arrive at a bit more practical statistics via our Instagram handle, where I created a poll that read “Guys!! Have you ever disvirgined a lady before?” and tell you what, the result left my jaw ajar. I expected that the number of NO’s would be a far mile away from the “YESES” but could you believe that out of 49 votes, 22 men voted YES?! At this finding, I felt a better justification was to press further, seeking information bearing more depth that either verifies or nullifies certain popular opinions about female virginity.

Contrary to how the internet is flooded with ladies telling stories about their first sex experience, and men doing same also, I decided to flip the script– telling the stories from the other parties POV. What goes down when a man decides to have sex with a virgin lady ? I sought to explore majorly the emotional/psychological state of the man during the phase (before & after). How long was the wait? How long did it take to attain full penetration? Were they at any point scared? What were the emotions felt during and after? Did the relationship get better or awkward? Would they do it all over again?

Hey Mutterer, below, 3 men share their experience with me. While the emotions portrayed in all three is not a guaranteed mutual feeling for every man, I hope that you find something to hold on to.

Peer Pressure

I was 22 and she was 18, we were both virgins. One time she came home from school and suggested we tried, I told her I couldn’t because I hadn’t done a thing like that before but she insisted, adding that she has heard lots of stories from her friends in school about how they enjoy sex with their men and was eager to know what it feels like. I remember telling her she was too young and I couldn’t do it because I was a novice. After much pressure I gave in.

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The first day we tried, it was backbreaking. She kept crying due to pains and my big dick wasn’t helping, it made it worse. I couldn’t bear seeing her in pain so I insisted we stopped, but she wasn’t having it. Very determined. She cried even harder and asked that we continued. However, the long try still wasn’t successful so we fixed another date.

Before our next meeting, I avoided her, to be sincere, I was hell scared. I didn’t want another round of seeing a woman in pain. Also the thought of blood made me even more scared. However, we fixed a date when no one was home. Before this, I used my phone to research some helpful tips on google, and tell you what, I got a whole lot of tips.

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From my research, I deduced there was no need to rush to penetrate, but it had to be gentle. Start from kissing and caressing and then thorough romance so that she can be wet enough and yearn for the penis. So I followed the script judiciously. I started kissing her from her neck, down other parts of her body. I touched her intensely and intermittently used my hands to caress her clits. I would have tried cunnilingus cause it was among the tips but I had no idea how to at the time. As stated, she started to yearn for the dick so I proceeded. Although very wet, she still retreated when I sought entry and when I tried using my fingers with hopes that it was a better option she appeared even more scared. I was only able to get as far as her clitoris and revolver. It was like a tug of war.

Now this time she’s even more wet…I tried with my dick and boom! I was in, I penetrated the hymen. The whole process took close to 2 hours, there was a little blood and she started crying. I got confused and reached to clean her up and console her. She pushed me away and asked me to leave her alone. I didn’t know what to do, but she kept on crying and crying. I was confused but left. The following day and after, she was avoiding me and wouldn’t speak to me. I was so confused, I mean, she wanted it and now this??

Read: A Long Haul Down My Vagina

After about three days, she called me and apologized. She said she was happy she felt like a lady and at the same time sad. Sad because her friends in school also told her that when a man has sex with a lady for her first time he would leave her. I assured her that I liked her and she was also my first. I promised her that our love would wax stronger, and really it did, we grew so in love. Going forward we tried severally and for some reason, it was like she got addicted. She’ll ring my phone virtually everyday for us to have sex, we had sex like five times in a week. She also became clingy, called me at all times and said she just wants to hear from me. I could see she was in love or maybe more in love with the sex. I loved her quite all right but hers was more. It was like I used jazz on her. I wont lie, the sex made our relationship awkward. However, I left for university and lack of communication created a huge gap. She found someone else and reduced the attention towards me. The rest is history.

She Didn’t Tell Me She Was A Virgin

She was a friend to my cousin. We always met at the village at the end of the year, she comes in on the 31st to leave on the 3rd of January, while I normally stayed for a week or more sometimes. We had been dating for like three years, and the sexual aspect was just kisses and smooching.

Read: And What If He’s A Virgin at 30?

On the d-day, we left for the village school outside the village, which was our normal spot for making out. She was in jeans with an iron belt and white top. We started making out and it was intense and we decided to take it further. Prior to this, we had never discussed the issue of virginity, I didn’t even think she was a virgin because she stays in Bariga. First, It was very difficult to get rid of the belt, it took like 45mins to do that and pull off the jeans, after which I reached for the condoms in my wallet while we both laid on the floor. I tried to penetrate and noticed that she was in pain and was crying all through. When I was done, I noticed blood stains which were visible on the white pant she wore. I asked her and she confirmed she was a virgin. She kept crying, so I had to pet her for up to an hour. I was begging the whole time because she said I was too rough on her.

However, she stopped crying and told me to tell her I love her, which I did. She then insisted for one more round, although I was tired and just wanted to sleep but I had to do it for her. We went to the back of the church which was not far from the school to have a quick doggy, it was lovely and she enjoyed it. She kissed me deeply immediately we were done and we both went to our various hut. She left before I woke up. We saw a year later and we continued but lost touch after then.

“I Think I’m Ready”

We were both in love, and had been dating for like a year. She’d talk about some pretty racy shit cause she was into a lot of erotic fiction. We’d mess around, kiss and engage in a lot of oral sex and I’d play with her pussy, but that was about it. I did my best to not pressure her though but still body no be firewood…and she was sexy AF(still is).

Catch Up On: My First Sex Experience Series

One time we were bathing together, I got carried away and tried going pass our normal routine…mehn! it wasn’t funny, I spent the night apologizing because she was in pain. Times where we had normal couple issues she’d always attribute my “behavior” to the fact that we hadn’t had sex bla bla…but I was faithful. I actually loved her and really enjoyed her company so it was only natural for me to perish ideas that involved being with someone else.

The D-day was pretty weird lol…I had just resumed for the semester and didn’t tell her cause I wanted to surprise her (I know…romantic b.s) I went to the house of a mutual friend of ours and as expected I met her there, so yeah the surprise went well. We went back to my place that evening and started our usual make out, then oral sex which I was pretty okay with and then the shocker…she said, “I think I’m ready”. I recall asking her like five times to be sure to avoid messy stories later on.

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The first few seconds-minutes were a bit of a struggle but with the help of trusty ol’ baby oil we conquered, lol. I did my best to help her through it all by asking her when to stop or if I should pull out. Eventually after a couple thrusts we got the hang of it. I could tell it was still a bit painful for her but I kept on reassuring her and It felt really great for me. We both didn’t cum though but it lasted about 15-20 mins and there was just a little patch of blood on me afterwards. We bathed and slept in each other’s arms.

The next day we did it again and this time it was better. The only issue was she was getting sore which was majorly my fault cause I hadn’t gotten used to her tempo. Like we got mad closer after it, and she became a freak. We got to experience all the sex styles she’d been reading and also more open to my ideas. One time she rode me on the decking of an uncompleted apartment close to my place in the view of the full moon and shit. It was wild because that was the spot guys usually smoked. We almost got spotted then we went downstairs into one of the uncompleted rooms and finished there.

We had great sexual chemistry and moving on from her was really hard cause I was totally invested in her emotionally, physically, mentally and sexually. But I guess we just had to let go at one point. Met up again late last year (we were both single) and the sex was still top notch. If presented with the chance to do it again, I’ll change the settings and make it a bit more romantic, other than that I’ll gladly do it again.

My One Cent

Like I stated at the opening, my reason for doing this was to actually see through at least a fraction of what goes on in the minds of men when it comes to disvirgining a lady. Frankly, I feel that looking back, the men reckon it was a beautiful moment shared, especially the third story, who also according to his embellished description was a player but found something to live for. This equally proves that the ‘hard guy’ syndrome can become a melted mountain with the right one.

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Also importantly, another popular opinion I wanted to verify with this is the statement “Do not have sex with a virgin lady, cause they become clingy”, story one gives me my answer. Then there is the statement “Avoid virgin ladies because they’ll suck in bed”… the three stories especially the last all debunk this.

Guess what, I also ran a poll for the ladies, I asked “Ladies!! Do you sometimes regret the circumstances surrounding losing your virginity?” 48 voted YES and 39 voted NO.

Hmmmm… on this note, I’ll conclude by asking the following questions; To the men, having read these stories, would you be willing to date a virgin lady? What are your reservations about virginity? And if you have dated one before, what was the outcome? To the ladies, prior to losing your virginity, were you ever shy to say you’re one or proud of it? Mind sharing your experience too, be it regret or joy? Also if you haven’t scratched this surface, why so? This should be interesting but mostly enlightening for all of us. Kindly leave your comments below 🤗👇👇.

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MUTTERERS CLUB

It’s Humbling… You Are Never Prepared…

By muttering minds October 21, 2021

9 min read

Shit!! I hate to admit it but my ex is the most interesting person I talk to. Well, what’s there to hate?? He was first my friend before we dated…then we metamorphosed to exes. And now we’re back as friends 🤗.

With us, it’s usually a ‘call this person at your own risk’… Calling Obie means all other activities on hold because it’s always a long-ride conversation. Nah, not some love talks about trying to rekindle a fire that’s lost. I like to believe we’ve found our true fire, a fire that’s forged from a telepathic adventure of knowing so well about each other and knowing what’s uniquely best for each other. Obie is an ingenious young man, talking is really not cheap with him.

I once suggested we turned our conversations to a podcast as they’re very enlightening (folks on Naked Minds can relate) but then there’s every chance it’ll get diluted per the camera effect.

But I’ll be sharing one with you today. Obie sent me a voice note, detailing his most humbling experiences in life. A humbling experience in my opinion is one that makes you realize that the other side of the coin you less cherish can knock you off in split seconds and there’s really nothing you can do. It’s one that opens your eyes to actual realities about yourself and others. It makes you understand that it’s okay to not be seen as important as you think you are. Things will not always go your way no matter how in charge you perceive yourself. Sometimes, a humbling experience can involve a life on the line.

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When push comes to shove, there are lessons to learn. Following is a transcribed VN of Obie’s humbling experiences. I’m sharing this with hopes that it triggers your memory to recall yours and importantly the lessons.

The Squid Game Evoked Weed Nightmare

So Uju yeah, I was relaxing and watching Squid Game and there’s this episode I just saw which was like a win-or-die game and people had to choose partners. Some died, some made sacrifices and you could see people with good intentions trying to trick their teammates just to survive. It was crazy because I could imagine their fears which kind of made me think like “What was one of the scariest moments of my life?” I think maybe it’s something else, I don’t know… but the surface level is when we were dating and we had that whole weed and I mixed all those drugs and we cooked it in the indomie and you were overreacting…Jesus Christ…*deep sigh*

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like that in my life, I don’t know whether it’s because for my own part, I was equally very high or I was scared as fuck mehn… Jesus Christ! I was scared, I was like “what’s up with this girl?!” You were in fact mad, you were speaking in tongues, you were doing all kinds of things, I was like “this is crazy!”. I remember how I had to call my secondary school biology teacher, who was like my best friend, to tell him what I had done and ask what I could do… phew!! 😓

You were running around knocking on people’s gates, I was like “God what have I done!?” And then I was so high and what was coming to my mind were these Nollywood movies where people do shit and the next thing their girlfriend ends up dying. Omoo I was scared😭.

Also, that was the most jealous moment in our relationship because you then called this Uche guy and were resting your head on his legs and to think that I’ve always looked at that guy with suspicion all the times you both flunted the whole ‘bestie bestie’ tag. And then in your scariest and most vulnerable moment you run to him, placed your head on his legs and you didn’t even allow me to come close and I was so fucking jealous.

Read: Weed killed me on our First Date… An Unforgettable Experience

Maybe because I was high too, but then I don’t trust guys so when I start seeing guys flocking, I’m like “who the fuck is this guy!?” But I used to hide that part from you. Mehn that night was crazy, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that kind of thing in my life.

Obie’s Response to the chat:

You saying you wish we handled it better, mehn… that’s not how I see it. The way I actually see it is so far no life was lost and no serious damage was done, it’s okay for me.

It’s not like I want to relive the experience but I just cherish it so much because it’s something I look back on and smile about. I don’t hate the experience because it has happened. I can’t hate what I can’t change so I just have to value it. I value humbling experiences. This one reminds me that in this life ehn omoo, anything can happen. It also reminds me of the time in my life when something was happening and I can’t believe I was that scared and that someone was probably going to die, and I was so confused and extremely high.

Read: A Tormenting Ride You Wish You Could Quit

The whole process of trying to find a solution in the middle of the night, trying to call my biology teacher friend, and all of that doesn’t make me sad. I mean, it humbles me. Like it’s just the kind of thing I’ll want to think of when I am acting out or I’m being crazy. It just helps me hold on to the fact that anyone can lose control at any time including myself. The lesson actually helps me act more responsibly. It’s not something to feel bad about. I don’t feel bad about it at all. It’s just different.

No One Is Super Human

So another humbling experience is something I always reflect on. I don’t know if I’ve told you before, one time I was coming back from work and it was crazy because I was supposed to go back home with my colleague. Usually, we go home together, it was either he drove or I did. So this time around I had lost my patience, he’s our head accountant and that day he was busy balancing the figures late so I just left him and proceeded to Lekki to just go home on my own.

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You know how you can be in Lekki and flag down private cars going your way, so I stood waiting. I had waited for almost an hour, no vehicle came. So it was just a second option to go back to the office, but you know how you feel reluctant when you’re going back to where you just came back from, so I kind of just moved out of the road to another spot. I still felt reluctant but gradually walking back and looking at the road slightly.

It was barely two minutes, and before I could say jack, a bus had run across and cleared the two people that stood by my side initially. Jeez! I was at that spot before, God! I was in shock. One of the victims, the guy still had the tyre compressing his chest and the victim girl was under the vehicle. Immediately people gathered, screaming “Hey hey hey… see the driver o”, alerting those close by to catch the driver. Everyone was concentrating on the driver and from where I stood I saw that there were people that were going to die. And I’m thinking “Why’s everyone going after the driver!? Is that what’s important? Can’t they see the people that are almost dying?”

A few weeks before, I had just lost a phone, so I was also being conscious of my properties but immediately my instincts started to work. I put my phone in my bag and placed it in a location where my left eye can always find it.

There’s this brewing hysteria, people just trying to save and not save, people trying to be busy, busy doing nothing, and most of them going after the driver as that’s the easy target because nobody really knows how to handle an emergency. I and a group of men try to lift the vehicle up to rescue the guy who had the tyre pressing on him. We succeeded but I could see the guy was dying. About two people tried to resuscitate him with CPR, I stood watching, believing they knew what they were doing but shortly, I could see that the guy was not coming alive and then it dawned on me the CPR had gone on for too long.

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A lot of people don’t know what to do next after CPR so immediately my instincts said “look, step in!” More people had started to gather, the LCC and the police too. When you don’t witness an accident, it’s easier to safeguard, even if you go close, you really would not want to help most times because you don’t know how it started. Also that feeling that the people already there are in control comes to play. I felt a lot of people who came felt this way, it yielded an unhelpful crowd, I got pissed at the people bringing out their phones to video and then one woman who knelt down to pray. Like what the hell are you praying for?? I reached out to one of the LCC representatives about their protocol and asked if they could call their medical unit and tell you what, he was totally clueless, but not as clueless as the policeman I asked same.

Omoo it dawned on me that I needed to act “look we can’t continue to do this, let’s take this guy to the hospital!” I said to the group beside me and of all suggestions to give, one of them said “call 911”. WTF are you calling 911 for? This is Lekki for God’s sake!! Lekki has tons of hospitals, why don’t we just go into any of them?

Shortly after, I observed people checking out of the area stylishly. It’s understandable, no one wants to get involved in anything that looks technical. So I start to carry the victim alongside one other guy who held him from the leg and we started to move towards the gate. I got perplexed the moment I realized I had no car, “What am I doing? What’s my next move?” I get lost in my thoughts for like five seconds and the guy carrying the victim with me looks at me, it was a look of confidence drifting. One of those moments when you know that someone is sure of what they’re doing and you bank on their confidence but the moment they lose that confidence you’re like what’s up? Immediately he sensed my confusion, he left me with the victim and walked away.

I was left with a dying man, I looked at his legs, blood all over with no one to carry the other part of him. I was going to leave but then I looked at how helpless he laid. You know when you see someone alive and can tell they want to say something but they can’t talk. For some reason I stared at his eyes, and the only thing his eyes could say was “HELP”...numb eyes yet they screamed at me. I felt a deeper connection at that point. I looked away and saw about three guys passing by, they looked interested in helping but then needed a push. So immediately I beckoned on them for help, two of them carried the victim, and then I instructed the third to stop a van. Long story short, we were able to rush the victim to the hospital. The next day I went to check up on him and the nurse informed me that he’s been transferred to Igbogbi hospital. She also thanked me for saving his life.

What’s humbling whenever I reflect on this experience is that we are all humans. All these people working in offices, carrying their chest up and acting like they have a solution equally have moments they don’t know what they are doing. Imagine that whole crowd, nobody knew what they were doing. Had it been I didn’t take charge, it’s very likely that the victim would have died. It’s crazy. Sometimes we just have to cut people some slack because omooo it’s not every time we can have things completely figured out. The way I’m human is the same way the other person is. Nobody is superhuman.

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Like I wrote earlier, I’m sharing Obie’s experience with the hope that it triggers your memory to recall your own humbling experience and importantly, the lessons. I really appreciate it if you shared yours in the comment section and perhaps any reservations you have about Obie’s. And tell you what, I’ll be sharing mine too. So leggo 🤗👇

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I am Muttering

Making Sex Tapes is my Guilty Pleasure… Sheeshhhh… And There’s More

By muttering minds October 8, 2021

7 min read

“Oooh ahhhh…mmmmm..ahhhh” my quiet moans litters the whole room. “Awww baby could you stroke your dick for me?” He gets at it softly, up and down he strokes with special care for his pinkish reddish cap. “Sheeeshhh… mmmm…ooohhh, dammit baby! I want it all in my mouth baby”. It’s become a slippery slope, all thanks to the divine mixture of precum and lotion. I wish to put it all in my mouth, his dick! But I can only watch and moan and multitask soft-handling my boobs with my left hand. It’s easy-peasy as they’re perky and almost smallish, all my left fingers could pleasure them at once. He delights at my boobs by giving a moan quieter than mine. There was a time I usually blamed his shallow moans on masculine ego, but I grew to see it as an indefatigable men trait. So I enjoy the moment.” Baby imagine me sucking them with soft spanks on your giggly ass, you’ll love it right?”… These words send me into a higher gear of sensual urges, a kind that makes my iris seem like it’s escaping the sclera, like one in a trance.

Whew!! This is all we can do, sometimes blessed with precums, sometimes a molehill of cums and orgasms, other times, rude interruptions with my mum screaming my name two rooms away. I better dash out of the toilet and pretend to be fast asleep on my bed. Arrrhhh!! To think that I was almost hitting climax, dammit mum!

The Juice Of Video Chat Sex

Ever tried video chat sex with your partner? Or maybe someone else? Woah, I actually enjoy it especially on some special occasions like when the weather is cozy and bae is far away in Queensland. I’m sure to orgasm in a way that sends me into some sweet sleep… oops! You really think ladies cannot have an orgasm this way? Try me then lmao. Quit the jokes, only 25% of ladies orgasm through intercourse, the other percentage is seen in spontaneous activities, video chat sex inclusive. I rate it a great way to spice up a relationship, it shouldn’t be reserved for only long-distance couples.

Before I ever tried video chat sex, I had experienced erotic phone calls (phone sex) with this dude when I was 19 I think, those free midnight calls thanks to MTN live rent-free in my head. I was just bursting into the outer world when I met this dude on one ‘very weird’ site as I love to describe it. We exchanged numbers and most nights after that held me captive in sexual secrecy. We never met, so it was easy to run wild. He taught me much naughty stuff that backfired as I saw the guy I later started dating as boring. Like how does he not know these stuff!! My little brain was so slow to process that he was only an innocent boy who still hid in school toilets to steal kisses and barely understood the right gears for masturbation. Anyway, I activated my girl power to get him to try, and knowing his ego was at stake, he obliged. But it wasn’t it, his voice was more clownish and not one bit sensual, I knew it was a lost cause at this point!

words to say during phone sex — Image Source- Greatist

The Deadliest Sin Of A Sex TAPE

I don’t expect you to agree you’ve ever made a sex tape, but if you do, bold strokes! This was supposed to be a stand-alone piece with my friend Romeo holding the pen and unraveling his delight for making sex tapes. Unfortunately, dude got so little yet in-depth take to share.

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“Well making sex tape actually is fun and adventurous. However, it must be consensual. For someone with my kind of personality who loves to explore and loves adventure. It is awesome for me when a lady accepts that we do a sex tape. Getting to watch it after we are done is a tremendous turn-on. There is a weird psychology behind that which a vanilla will never relate to. I’ll propose it for someone who is sexually dynamic in exploration and just love crazy stuff and want to use different ingredients to achieve that crazy feeling. Sex tape is the deal. You get to see how everything went, how you both reacted, the sounds uhm. I mean that’s A for me .”- Romeo

I totally agree with Romeo. Although I’ve never made a sex tape before, I’ve had the privilege of a series of ‘makeout’ tapes which seems so much like the real deal. I find it beautiful watching them over and over again, especially on some lonely nights when I want to flick the bean. It gives me a kind of sensation porn doesn’t dare come close to, it’s a natural especially if you cherish the person with you in it. The funniest thing about it is you get to see how ugly you are in bed, like fucking ugly! I be thinking to myself the whole time watching “how is this man attracted to this thing”… “For christ’s sake!! Is this how I kiss?? It’s so yuck!” I’m a tad embarrassed but it still gives me an orgasm watching.

easiest way to make a sex tape with your man — Image Source- Pornhub

Trade By Barter Nudes

I hate seeing pictures of any man’s dick, be it my man’s. Dicks, I prefer to see physically or in motion on video chat sex, don’t you dare spam me with your dick photos! I tolerate my man’s but frankly, I’m less than 1% aroused the whole time, but shall I pretend? Absolutely! However, sending my nudes appears to be the sexiest thing ever, especially my boobies. Randomly I enjoy taking snapshots of my boobs, in different angles while I adore them in all their full glory. And then this one-shot hits, and it makes me feel like the sexiest woman on earth before Emilia Clarke. Woe betides me if I decide to keep this beauty to myself. Ping! Ping! In split seconds, bae receives the memo, he can wank on it as he pleases.

Ever been in this situation where you meet someone new and they start asking for nudes? Such clowns! Well, let me not lie, if I’m feeling the nigga, I opt for trade by barter nudes. Duurrrhh! Even though I hate dick pictures, he has to commit by sending me first, it makes me feel safe to send mine but not with my face in it. I remember making this particular dude go through seven hells by asking him to send different shots of his penis only for me to abscond without returning the favor. He still hates me, but I care less.

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The Golden Rule is “Do not share nudes with your face in it”... hmmm this doesn’t apply to me if he’s my man though. There’s something about the face that makes the image more boner triggering, especially if you know how to wear that resting bitch seductive face on. Oops! Do not run with my advice!!

Bursted!!

One time I played a prank on my friends that my ex was threatening to make viral my nudes, they were so furious and told me to call his bluff. For a moment, about three of them were shocked to find out that I normally send nudes. “For real Uju, you send nudes!?” one of them accosted me, she wouldn’t believe it. The problem is my friends rate me too serious for certain sexual ish. More like a nerdy kinda person. Does it mean they haven’t watched any porn with a nerd in it? I actually enjoy those categories.

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What happens when you fall out with someone who has an archive of your nudes though😂😂? Because I trusted them in the first place, I’m usually not scared. Something very hilarious happened recently, my friend called me and asked me a quite unrelated question. “Uju how far, how can I delete a message I sent to someone on Instagram?” I had no right answers because I hadn’t done it before, most likely because I have no personal IG. But I got on with whining her on the reason she needed to delete something only for her to open up that her ex contacted her to do some digital marketing work and thankfully he gave her his password. My girl said she wants to delete her nudes o😂😂, before she gets bursted. I laughed ehn… thankfully we found a way. But wait a minute! You all send nudes on IG?? 😂😂😂 I don’t trust that platform, its WhatsApp or nothing for me because what if my IG gets hacked 😱. Even with WhatsApp, I carry out the act with my heart in my mouth, I switch off my data on most cases to be sure I’m sending directly to the dude and not my status. I’ve made countless mistakes of uploading things on status, instead of sending as a DM. Thankfully, nudes ain’t one.

what to do when your nude leaks — Image Source- Wall Street Journal

Sometimes I have this weird case scenario running in my mind though, what if one of these dudes decides to leak my nudes, what can I possibly do? Find the goat and insert a nuclear weapon in his asshole? Delete every trace of myself existence from social media? For sure I’ll be too embarrassed and maybe a bit of crying, but I’m sure to find solace in the comments that’ll speak on how sexy my body is though 😂😂😂.

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So do you send nudes? Make video chat sex or sex tapes? Ever been close to being bursted? Or bursted?! Let’s gist in the comment section 😂😂. If you’ve never done any of these, I’m curious to know why too. Remember all liars shall perish 🤭👇 .

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I am Muttering

Appreciation!! The Ugliest Thing About 2

By muttering minds September 24, 2021

7 min read

I am your precious secret place, you dwell, you enjoy me selfishly, but never ever will you abide under the shadow of sharing me with another. Is this what Muttering Minds is to you?

You’d rather be here, breaking bread and drinking wine with this family of ‘societal misfits’ who are unafraid to show unfiltered sadness in a world where even fake laughter is considered medicine. A family not connected by blood but imperfection. Is this what Muttering Minds is to you?

Cruise! Cruise! “What do these weird ones have under their sleeves this Friday? My mind is hungry for novel eye-openers, and of course, clownery”. Is this what brings you here often?

Can being weird be a good thing? - Vox — Image Source- Vox

Among the few reasons people tell me whenever I ask them why they fuck with Muttering Minds, the above-mentioned are prominent. Oops! Not leaving out their love for the mystery of not knowing the face behind this gang of weirdos. No, wait! Some actually hate it, they’d pour hot oil on their genitals just to see my face. But is my face some form of currency? Tell me please, I hope it’s an all-time high though, I might as well sell it off and makeup all the money I should have charged for my blemished therapy sessions here. And ooo not forgetting my mail, that’s even more amateuristic. Hey dear, I sincerely do not care how you look, quit sending me trade-by-barter images of yourself via email, hoping that I return the favor. Can we just enjoy our conversations and leave our faces out of them?😌

I’m not hiding, never hidden, but don’t try to look for me.

Nahhhh… I’m not angry joor😁, Muttering Minds is Plus 2 today!!! Whew!!🥳🥳 I just thought that rather than cutting cakes, I should wear the armor of mischief and assertion while I cut words here🤺.

The Ugliest Thing About 2

It’s suddenly graduated to a race my mind keeps reminding me that I’ve come too far to quit. See guy, I really don’t know why I’m still holding on to this shit, It’s the ugliest relationship I’ve ever stomached. Spamming from coast to coast to recruit more demons, then finding out a demon is greater than all my demons put together. I often ask myself ‘how is it you still want so much more?’ You see, I love to win big, hardly a night goes by without me asking my creator to bless me with more Mutterers. But for every time it becomes overwhelming (seeing the numbers adding up but the intentions are zero😒), I try to retrace my prayer request. Small is often considered a bad result, but with intentionality comes greatness. This here is one ugly truth I’ve learned owning this shit. As much as I crave an uncountable flock of sheep, growth is much appreciated when it’s earned painstakingly. It’s not like age that moves up regardless of the brain being half-witted. I’m in love with how intentional 20% of the Mutterers are, it plays a huge cover for the onlookers. Mind you, I still look forward to a time where I’ll post a story and not have to spam or say a word about it. All that does the talking would be the post notification. Let’s toast to that for it will happen.

The Beauties of 2

I’m happy (I think). Unlike the first-anniversary note where I mentioned that I literally would go from chat to chat, to plead a comment here. Now I’m proud to call myself an earner of at all at all sha, three comments not produced out of persuasion will drop😄. Another beautiful thing is that I can decide to have a week or two weeks off, still, my ride or rides will still ride for me when I show up🥺. Nah, I am not one to take advantage of loyalty by serving inconsistency. My health has been hell-bent on imposing a toxic relationship with me since this year. But this is a tale for another publication, I should have shared since, but I want to make sure it accompanies a testimony.

I’ve Always Been a Coward, Nothing’s Changed

Long before now, about 8 months ago, I had started making plans on how I would celebrate today. I thought of launching my desired eLibrary that will harbor a merch collection and sweet e-books, all for your pleasure. But I caught a frozen foot after doing a mini-survey on Naked Minds and one person amongst the one percent I thought shared in my passion for this community said without a care for my fragile emotions that he won’t be purchasing any of it🥺. Tell you what, the other comments were so positive, but my mind automatically translated them into white lies after seeing the bad apple. I regret scrapping the plans though, but it wasn’t after I reconnected with an old friend who strangely didn’t take much time with me before he said “You’re still scared of failure Doris, common, you need to be confident o” and he diluted it with laughter that wore a tone of mockery. Yeah I know, he did mock me.

But I think I’m doing better now, turning a blind eye to flops, riding for me despite being car sick, and being able to take a second look at my writing. I used to cringe reading all over any story I post here despite the accolades. I used to cry myself into frustration when I post a story and the comment section takes a snail speed or none at all. “Most of them are probably not having a good day or have absolutely nothing to say”, once my mind reminds me of this, I send my frustration into exile.

I used to burn down hellfire whenever a glitch affected the website, but now, more than worrying, I seize the opportunity to take a break.

The only thing I’ve not learned is confidence in trying new things especially when it revolves around money. Pleading to buy, donate, all whatnot. I’d rather chew jeans🥴. I lack confidence in my people bank, that’s the truth. But I should switch things up in the new year though, if you see me running mad, don’t throw stones, instead join in the madness😁.

Impression

I am not a therapist, especially not a sex therapist. I do not have all the answers, what I got is a platform with the best minds who provide several answers, all seeming right in their own eyes. If you notice, I’m mostly neutral to all the comments here, because like you, I’m grateful that this platform is a learning curve. I’m human like you too, like you have the right to not answer a DM, I reserve the right to not answer your mail. Not because I want to, but sometimes I’m numb and sincerely have nothing to say. And I would rather not mislead you by trying to inscribe my name in the book of ‘wokeness’ by force.

Appreciation

If anything the comment section! O boy!! I’m yet to find any platform that harbors ‘so long a letter’ comments like Muttering Minds😭. Gosh! You all pour it out, if ever I doubt the support I feel on this earth, your dedication to penning your comments debunks it. Writing is not easy one bit, yet you give it all. This is not only raw support but raw trust. Thank you! Tell you what, some of my close friends tell me (maybe out of good envy😄) that they are usually too intimidated to comment here. Apart from the length, too many senseis, English opoor o…🙌

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Many who rode with me during the first year, no longer hold the wheel, I don’t expect that you’ll continue to and that’s okay. Like people can love forever, they can also outgrow love too. Just ensure you’re not a bad ex 😉.

Thank you for sharing my work too and being proudly associated, sadly, only a few fall in this category though. The rest are often too embarrassed to associate themselves openly with Muttering Minds. Let’s not even talk about the nasty remarks… more than any of you, I understand the moral stigma, so keep riding private if it pleases your soul😪.

Donations

Never has buying me a bottle of malt been a bad decision😌. In my recent newsletter, I promised I was going to be aggressive in seeking monetary donations today because I deserve it (my entitled self believes so🤣). No long talk jare, send me money *blows powder*. This donation page has been more of a filler page than coins yielding. Break the jinx, please🤧. Forget the long talks on here, just go straight to the DONATE segment❤.

An Experiment

Regardless of my paranoia for the people bank here, there’s no harm in experimenting with this. Asides from congratulating me on 2, and leaving your reservations of Muttering Minds in the comment section, feel free to market your business, skills, and what have you in the comment section💃🕺🏿. I invited a Jeff for this anniversary, I forgot to revise the last name so I don’t know if the one who would show up is a Bezos’ or Thomson. The latter is the dude who tried to throw pepper inside my eyes, but mercy said noooo😂😂. Regardless market yourself. Bring the comments on darling 😄👇👇

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I am Muttering

Child to Child Cruelty; These Scars May Never Die

By muttering minds August 6, 2021

8 min read

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.

TORMENT 101

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.

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“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.

Read: Social Hiccups and the Flipside of Mastering Avoidance

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!

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Learning to Wade Through My Childhood Trauma — Source- Blac.media

AN AGONIZING THREAD

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…

childhood scars and revenge — Source- Teststar.in

“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

Read: Our Names and the Nickname Disease

“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

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“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.

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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!

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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.

Read: Addiction Is Not as Straightforward as You Think

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.

childhood scars — Source- Everyday Health

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.

Read: Am I the Only One Who Can’t Stand Kids?

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.

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Also, I’ll ask again, are kids really innocent? They say writing is therapy, perhaps we might find the closure we desire letting it all out in the comment section. Kindly leave your comments below 🤗👇👇

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I am Muttering

A Tormenting Ride you Wish you could Quit

By muttering minds April 16, 2021

8 min read

“All these feelings you’re feeling is a cry out from your inner self for its freedom and peace. You need what you need and it won’t stop until you give yourself what you need. But what happens when your only hope is your job? Well, you can switch to a workplace or job that’s less consuming of yourself and time while you wait for your own thing which may not be so easy. My advice is to cry out to your spirit asking for something to be done.”

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Lately, I feel I’ve been living on borrowed life, yesterday felt like I had one last straw from it. I was brain dead, a collision occurred in my brain that generated so much fog, I couldn’t process anything. I was in a training meeting with my boss via Whatsapp call and for a very long time in forever, I met that terrified child again. That terrified child who was scared to death of mathematics and several attempts of learning and scoldings from the teacher proved abortive.

“Is this the life I want to live? Is this what I really want to spend my days doing? Talking to clients? I don’t even have my own time, now this?!” While I had zoned into oblivion from the step by step and back and forth training wherein I had made countless mistakes, these questions bugged my mind. My heart felt so sore and my eyes filled with tears, and to maintain relevance and communication throughout the meeting, all I could mumble were weak “yeahs and yeses”, for the times she either asked, “Doris are you following?” “You get this right?”.

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My body graduated to rioting, it could no longer take it. It felt like a moment with an oppressor, where they cross the thin line and you’re torn between blowing up or utilizing the respect reserved for them to save sanity. I was on the verge of screaming “You know what! FUCK IT! I QUIT!” because what are all these? However, despite the rage inside me, I still couldn’t morsel the courage. I decided to seek courage elsewhere by sending a message to two of my friends; “What if I quit my job today?” I texted.

While one didn’t show up at my rage party, the other responded “Aww damn. Sorry honey, I hate to see you pissed. Can you wait small and not do it this minute? Please babe, I just wanna be sure the decision is not solely fuelled by your present frustration. Surely you will leave the job, I’m just trying to be wary of the timing for you. Sorry babe. I can tell you aren’t happy. Or is there anything about the job that I don’t know?”

At This Point

At this point, I knew courage would not be found, especially not in the way that I want it. That moment where you’re hoping someone could be your pillar in making a decision, so it feels a little better, but they don’t feel it like you do, hence courage is lost in space. There’s this thing I do when my circle of friends is not telling me what I want to hear, I seek the advice of a total stranger or someone at arm’s length from my circle.

“Hey Sydney, at what point did you quit your job?” I sent him a mail. Sydney is one of my pals on Naked Minds, we got vibing when I wrote a story about how distressed I felt working. The quoted statement at the beginning of this post is a snippet from his response. I felt relieved, however, although coming face to face with the truth he said, I still couldn’t find the courage to quit. I managed to suppress the teardrops from my inner self, but for how long?

How I Got Here

I lost a very toxic job thanks to the pandemic, although I didn’t see the blessing until much later. Yeah, you’ll definitely go broke losing a job but surprisingly, it didn’t bother me as much cause all I was concerned with was making peace with my inner self, which I eventually found and cherished. I finally won the fight against imposter syndrome and not having to see my beastly boss project her insecurities. It was a good peace feeling, I had time for Muttering Minds and was able to nurture it to a large extent and I remember saying to myself “Mehn! This is it! I don’t think I want a job again, I just want to grow it here till something financially positive begins to manifest.”

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I vowed not to be bound by any organization again, I could take up freelancing but not as a full staff, that was how contented I felt. But you see, contentment also has a way of downplaying your comfort zone, at a point, it starts to look like ‘see finish’ and you begin to want more. I ran out of cash to sustain myself and my needs and rather than say a prayer for fuelled patience, I cried to my creator for a new job.

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This new job involves writing too, not the type that I entirely love but for the sake of money, I accepted. Maybe you got a wrong impression about my boss due to my frustrated analysis but nah, she’s the best I’ve found so far, my inner self is only being itself by rebelling against the things that it hates.

Although I work from home, it has gotten even worse than leaving my house. Working from home is a lowkey scam! It involves so much encroaching on personal time. One thing that upsets me so much about the workplace is that it is fast becoming like the school system. Bosses make everything mandatory and feel they can switch you from one role to another, bending you against your will to multitask. Why am I mandated to do a presentation at work? Why am I hired to write and then, later on, made to joggle that with marketing? I couldn’t wait to be out of school cause everything came from an angle of force, not passion, now the work system oozes just the same way and I hate it.

It’s often classified as a part of learning new skills, well hello! I’m not interested, these things kill my brain especially when I’m not passionate about it. I am content with being a writer and excelling at it. I am not someone who plays the jack of all trade because I want to be woke in all ramifications. It’s okay for me not to know some things, I’m open to brief learning here and there whilst dedicating full time to perfect the things I’m really passionate about. Is anything wrong with this?

But unfortunately, my boss wouldn’t let me breathe. She sees it as a weakness to not know everything. The difference between my previous work and this one is that when I started off with the previous, I was passionate about it, despite several mistakes that would make me cry and question my worth, I was still willing to give it a shot, I was still willing to give in my best and eventually I got better, better enough to be among the best writers. I left because the workload started to impede my creativity, I was working from a tired point every time, and to save the remaining creative juice I had left, I took advantage of the pandemic.

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Now this job involves writing and consulting for clients. Writing I can take but consulting is so much. It’s not a career path I’m interested in, except the writing aspect which is even not as interesting as I love. Is it too much to ask your boss to streamline your work roles? Contemplating these roles makes me sick and it’s made me develop anxiety lately.

How I Feel & Why I’m Scared

I am a creative who’s suddenly found herself in a dark box, my craving for free will is not making it easier. I function better when I work at my pace but unfortunately, life hasn’t presented me with many options.

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My phobia for having an empty pocket is what makes me betray my inner self by not letting go despite the pressure. I know my inner self will cry again, I know I’ll suppress her for the umpteenth time, but for how long? The rope keeps getting thinner and thinner and it’ll cut one day. I know. All I crave is a decent work role with defined timelines and very importantly, peace of mind. I hate anything that gives me anxiety, but my job is. The more I try to fit into these forceful shoes, I lose myself and I don’t even enjoy anything. I really want out but I’m more of a coward.

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Amid the dead bones, amid the brain drain, I’m cowardly carrying on till life presents me with a better option where I can finally live my full potential and make my inner self smile eternally.

What Is Stressing You Darling?

The moment I figured April is stress awareness month, for a second I was pissed because I thought that we should be more vocal about it like we do for other awareness days. But I guess because it has no ingredient of love in it like the trivial boyfriend and girlfriend’s awareness day lol, that’s why it’s overlooked.

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I am fucking stressed about a few things but the one thing at the top of the food chain is my job, this is because it’s crept so much into my personal life and leaves me with no choice. I decided to be vocal about it here, not with hopes that I might find a grand solution, but there’s a certain magic attached to opening up, you might not get the exact solution you’re looking for, but it places you at an almost accurate point of relief. Writing these lines made me feel better for some reason…

On this note, I’ll beckon that you do the same. What’s stressing you out darling? Is it a tormenting job? Your relationship, marriage, family, friendship? etc. I’m craving your vulnerability on this one, let it all out in the comment section. The idea is to make this post a ‘vent room’, for us to let out the most bothersome thing and frustration in our hearts. I could give you an advice or two, and from reading mine, feel free to give advice too. And if you find a similar situation you broke free from relayed by a fellow commenter, feel free to offer your advice.

Shall we darling? Please narrate sincerely in the comment section what’s stressing your life. 🤗👇👇

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Sex and Spirituality; And What If He’s A Virgin at 30?

By muttering minds April 9, 2021

7 min read

Whenever adult male virginity is raised in a conversation, there is usually an expected glare of surprise, and a dominating culture shock filling the atmosphere. Like Jeeeezzzzz it’s almost impossible to believe that even a day-old male child is a virgin, talk more of an adult. Losing virginity for the male folk has always been an ego massager and a level of bragging rights. Typical Nigerian parlance, you’ll often hear guys bant “You don fuck girl before?”, or a not so diplomatic mockery from a fellow man to another, “Why you dey behave like virgin”, which in the actual sense means “You ought to be smart”. Isn’t it ridiculous that there seems to be an almost generalized assumption that male virgins are not smart? It also sounds absurd that for a man to be well respected, he must have had sex with a lady, and the higher the body count, the higher the respect accorded him.

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Do men even understand what it means to wait? Unlike we women whereby virginity is used as a social construct to tame us, you know how we ladies especially as teenagers fondly gushed with these lines “I’ll like to wait till marriage”, “I made an oath with God that I wouldn’t lose my virginity until marriage”, “My virginity is sacred”, and so on. It’s almost impossible to find a man that upholds any of these and even if he exists, he mostly lacks the confidence to be vocal about it, I’m sure you know why.

Maybe I’m Wrong…

So a few years ago I met this dude who I vibed with so much and you know how youthful exuberant-inclined conversations play out, both parties are always curious about the other person’s sex life. And boom he hit me with the “I’m a virgin” line and also went ahead to preach chastity. The only logical question I could ask him was “Are you a virgin for lack of opportunity or it’s a decision?” He maintained that it’s his decision and went all preachy about the spiritual implication of having sex. Well well, he was 25-years-old at the time and four years down the line, he’s lost his virginity at 29. Finding out, I said to him “Dude you know what, I need you to share your experience on your long spanned virginity on Muttering Minds. Male virginity is a topic that should be explored”. Thankfully he agreed…

adult male virginity — Source- Life Hacker

His Story…

Despite losing my virginity at a very shocking age (29) for my gender, sex still remains a very sacred act to me. Can’t deny I had sexual fantasies as a teenager which I think is normal, but I grew up in a religious home where rather than attending to my fantasies, it was only wise to follow the status quo which was being chaste. My mother did a good job of making sure we followed suit.

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However, getting to my 20’s, I started knowing girls on a deeper wavelength and the urges naturally came. I had my share of wet dreams too and most mornings I woke to sperm splatter all over my briefs and sometimes an erection. I also watched porn sometimes but never masturbated instead I indulged in some freaky shit when in close corners with ladies like kissing, smooching but it never led to ejaculation or sex. I was careful because I had read about the spiritual implications, like diseases, bad luck, ancestral curses and so on that can be transferred through sex, so waiting felt like the right thing to do. It was also a personal decision too, I did not want to tie my soul with anyone that will not be my wife.

I was not vocal about my virginity, I was not shy about it either because I understood it was not easy to stay chaste, so I didn’t rub it on a fornicator’s face. I didn’t boast about it either and I also was not ashamed of it when asked. And even when I met guys who boasted about their sex life, I never felt intimidated at all because I knew they don’t really know what they are engaging in. For my female friends, I always gave and still give advice on how not to get exploited or abused sexually.

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Despite being vocal about my virginity when I could, I was never a turn-off for ladies, rather they found it attractive. They often said “who will pop you? She must be lucky bla bla bla…” Matter of fact, male virgins are always attractive to the female folks, they smell the pheromone from afar, and find it very sexually attractive.

The History of Pheromones | male virginity — Source- Hankering For History

I lost my virginity because of my girlfriend, I had starved her for many years sexually, so I decided that when I will eventually have sex with her will be closed to getting married to her. But unfortunately, we didn’t get married again. My first sex felt good and worth it, although I cummed quick and felt like an amateur, subsequently, I learned the science… “before I cum, I make her cum, that’s what I came to do”.

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And of course, I will be elated to marry a virgin. There is a special blessing attached to that. It’s ideal to meet your husband or wife as a virgin. Though society makes it look wack, it doesn’t mean it’s not a virtue. My advice for both genders is to stay sealed. Keep your virginity till you find the right partner. There are so many benefits to staying chaste. There is no benefit in promiscuity. None!!

HMMMMM

I’m guessing you poked some areas in his story or maybe not. Well, we both know that his opinion is rare especially judging by the evolvement of the world where chastity doesn’t make the news. I remember a conversation with a pal on Naked Minds, he asked me what sex meant to me and I told him sex was sex to me and it upset him. He felt I wasn’t being open enough. To date, I often wonder what he expected me to say. I must be frank, the whole spiritual attachment to sex seems scary, and due to not wanting to overthink it, I resolved some time ago to see sex as a mere scientific face valued activity for reproduction or pleasure.

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Come to think of it, why is it that virtually all adult virgins on planet earth indulge in one form of sexual activity or the other, some very intense like blowjobs and sucking boobies. I have never met a completely chaste virgin why??? I tag it fraudulent. If you want to be chaste, then be it in all forms!

On this note, I have some pertinent questions I’ll like to pick your brains on. Do you agree that sex is more spiritual than scientific? Please share your reasons. However, just like he exists, I am certain there are some other male virgins out there and I’ll really love to hear varying opinions. If you’re a male virgin reading this, I’m curious to know, how vocal are you about your non-sexual life? Has it been a case of waiting for you or lack of opportunity and inferiority complex?

Now, to non-virgin males, prior to losing your virginity, did you understand the concept of ‘waiting’ or you were only eager to know what the cookie tasted like?

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Also, it’s ironic that my friend said ladies found it attractive he was a virgin, I know for certain, most men avoid ladies who are virgins for mostly fear of blood and lack of performance, I would have sworn ladies avoided men too. To the ladies reading this, what’s your opinion about male virginity? Can you date a guy who’s a virgin?

I know its so many pointers in one story, but we can discuss, right😊? Please leave me your honest comments below 👇👇.

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Dear Mum, A Curious Conversation We’ll Never Have

By muttering minds March 19, 2021

9 min read

Dear mum, do you sometimes feel like my social life is ruined because of the man you married? I see it in your eyes, whenever you talk about some specific kids my age, the opportunities they get, and how you wish one of your kids will at least catwalk in similar shoes. You want more, I see it but for the most part, you’re scared you would never get it. The entirety of your wanting more is for your kids and you’re too scared to admit that things could have been more bliss but for the glitch in parenting. I know deep down when you have your sober reflections, you cut a larger piece of the blame for yourself. You detest the social awkwardness your children suffer but unfortunately, it is who we are now. Don’t be too hard on yourself mum, or fault the stricken strictness of your husband, I must confess, I’ve grown to enjoy the beauty of my personhood, I’m entertained by my baby steps even in adulthood.

Why worry about my love life mum? Did you expect I would have tied the knot so easy? You did I know, and it’s a shame. How do you plant corn seeds and expect to reap big tubers of yam? Every time you say “Ujunwa you must marry o, onye amuru na amu ibe ya (He that is birthed must birth)”, I get attracted to the frustration that strengthens the tone of your voice and the confused rotation of your eyes. You hate my nonchalance towards marriage I know, hence me making sure my first response is usually “Na so” (a payback maybe). Even though you emphasize my age, I know it’s the least of your worries. You’re scared something is wrong with me psychologically, you regret not creating a bond between us from inception. Well, I used to be a lot in my feelings when I was much younger about this, especially when I hear someone say “My mum is my best friend”, I lowkey hated them for having what I could never have, but along the line, I figured it’s still surreal to have best friends who are not mums.

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Hmmm, mum, you mean to tell me that one day, I’ll have to foot the bills of my kids as you and Dad do? Scary shit! I think of you sometimes and I wonder how rich you’ll have become if you didn’t birth any kids. “Mummy this! Mummy that! Mummy this” from every corner of the home even down to the extended family. When I was younger, I was lowkey scared, I thought you needed help psychologically because there was rarely a time I’ll barge into your room and not find you talking to yourself. “Watch mummy, she’s always talking to herself”, I once hinted at my sister frightfully, but the she-goat wasn’t as sensitive. Reminiscing on those moments as an adult, now I can relate. The bills were so overwhelming, I bet you cried your eyes silly sometimes but stupid me always bragged to my friends in high school about how rich my parents are. It’s not my fault, there was not one thing I asked that you didn’t make sure was provided, even when dad reiterated how trivial it was, you made sure I and my siblings got it.

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I had never felt so much guilt spending your money until the conversation we had some time last month and you openly said your salary before you retired banking was N120,000. What!! I held myself throughout the gist and amid the laughter, I was breaking inside and that night I suffered a lack of sleep and shed a few tears thinking about you and how much dad’s salary would have been too because he was also a banker. The salary you used in sustaining a home was my first job salary which I considered too small, I still cannot imagine how you were able to send 5 kids to good schools, clothing, feeding, etc. I regret tripling my school fees and money for handouts, I guess I was influenced by my brother who one time said to me “Anything they ask you to pay for in school, better double it, mummy and daddy have money, they’re just pretending”. For some reason, these words stuck with me through university, If I had known how much you were earning I swear I would have been considerate.

The Sex Conversation

Another thing I’ll be shocked to find out is if you still have sex mum. I watch you and sometimes your eyes tell that you’re unhappy for some key reasons yet you run with the bias that “mothers are supposed to keep the home, and not show fragility!” I see how you smile watching your favourite sitcom, ‘The Johnsons’, especially the hilarious lovey-dovey scenes of the couple characters Emu and Lucky. You wish you could share love gestures like that with your husband huh? I know. Do you still have sex? I doubt. I figured you got tired of wanting some things and adjusted, now you’re such a good actor who suffers a romantic awkwardness with her husband. I wish we could have a sex conversation, I long to know your definition of a spark and your fantasies about marriage. It’s glaring there’s a lot you hide in those cupboards locked in your eyes.

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I know you’re eager to know if I’m sexually active too but you’re not sure if my answer will break or merry your heart. You could have asked during the Vagina pills conversation, but you blew your shot by feigning ignorance as usual. Well, I suffered genophobia for decent years and all I needed were the words of a mum or better put, my mum, holding my hands and saying summarily to me “It’s not that deep”.

Genophobia dear mum — Source- Deviant Art

The Death Conversation

I hate how brutally honest you’re with death, although you’re dramatic when you cry over death, yet your move on is superb. When I lost my close friend Blessing and always cried my eyes out and got scared to sleep, I hated how you handled it. “You better stop crying, your friend has left this wicked world and you’ll leave one day too”, despite admitting you’ve never seen me that broken yet you refused me succour. You said the bitter truth though but still…you made me question your tendencies of being heartless especially when I hinted at seeing her in my dream and you quickly rebuked it. I went on to ask if you’ve seen your late father in the dream and with a much covered up hostile tone, you responded “What for? My father is resting peacefully, only dead people who are bad are seen in dreams”. This tops the list of the ignorant things you’ve ever said.

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If you die today Mum, I’ll still love to host you in my dreams just to have you echo my name, and annoy me with silly chores like calling me on the phone to help you get something from the fridge even though you’re seated literally at arm’s length from the fridge. I’ll still love to see you for sometime mum. You’re right about the need to move on after death, I just hate your approach in telling it.

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A Few Yet Huge Lessons

You are not among the most popular or powerful women in the world, not every mum is. We might not have had any tangible mother-daughter conversation, it doesn’t mean I haven’t learned anything from you. I have learned so much. Ooo boy! You’re a fervent preacher of ‘Savings’, although I somewhat hate how you preach it harshly and remind me of impending sufferings if I do not adhere. I know you think I’m a dummy in this aspect but ever heard of the saying “Never tell your parents how much you’re earning and how much you’ve saved”? Don’t be scared, I have some little saved. And your trenchant wit quote “Not having money is a sin” has become my mantra too, again don’t be scared, I wouldn’t end up poor.

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I learned the beauty of “Support being reciprocal” from you. When I observed that sometimes the blended tomatoes in the house is sometimes sour and other times sweet. I asked why and you opened up about rotating two different sellers. I complained that you ditched the bad tomato seller but you told me it wasn’t possible because both women buy from you. You added that support is reciprocal and that even if it meant having to eat not too good tomatoes for a week, you’ll bear it. Since that conversation mum, I make sure to support every friend’s business who reads my blog as much as I can. However, in an attempt to practice rotating among my two cloth vendor friends who are dedicated readers of my blog, like the bad tomato seller, one served me shitty customer service, to date, I have not gotten my dress. My encounter is not to nullify your lesson on support but opens my eyes on the unreliable nature of some folks.

lessons from my dear mum — Source- Purpose Focus Commitment

*******

Dear mum, most of the words written here are the conversations I wish we could have or you should know. This should be the right opportunity but unfortunately, you don’t read my blog. No, I’m not pissed, I promise. I only feel it’s a subconscious tit for tat as I hate to unhook your bra on most occasions. No hard feelings, only that you mostly show up when I’m having a not-so-good time.

ABOUT YOUR MUM

Last week was mother’s day and before it, I’ve been asking some close friends when exactly is Mother’s day cause I know there’s usually an established confusion with the dates, all thanks to varying church denominations. I had prepared pointers for this story some months ago and felt having it published on Mother’s Day would be great but how unfortunate, I missed the rapture. I was amused to see “happy mothers day mum”, on almost everyone’s story last Sunday and went on to query my friend Bubu for not keeping me abreast. Her hilarious response via chat was “Who you blame? This one is not acknowledged on Google, they said this one na pentecostal mother’s day, catholic’s own is still coming, then the one that is recognized worldwide is on its way too”.

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Hmmmmm, rather than miss the next and even the next, I decided to have this post come up today because there’s every likelihood that I’m gonna be caught unaware the umpteenth time. Do you know the recognized date for Mother’s day?

Mother's Day letter — Source- Learned English

Anyway, I want us to talk about our mothers today, not in the cliche way that we’re fond of, for instance “My mum is the best mum in the world”, you know that’s a fallacy right? I want this version of describing mums to be real, vulnerable, and unique. Those little and big bits you’ve observed about your mum, those words you wish you could say, conversations you should have had, let’s talk! Telling some sides of the story will most definitely hurt you, or make you tear up like I did when writing this, but I want you to be vulnerable in telling. If your mother is late or peradventure you were abandoned as a child, I urge you, don’t feel left out, please share. I’m sure you have memories and if not, there are still some things you wish you could say to them. Feel free.

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Like you’ve read mine, please leave yours in the comment section so we can all learn. You might not be able to write as long as I did, but I’m sure you can pick an intense part of the narrative to relay. So shall we👇👇.

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Pubic Hairgasm and the Weird Truths About Me (Us)

By muttering minds February 26, 2021

9 min read

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😑.

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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🛌.

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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.

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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?😶

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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😪.

nice guy synrome pubic hair — Source- Reddit

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🤣🤣

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“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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