The world right now is just a pot of burnt beans. Men are wild, girls are wilder. It’s wierd.
I have a new phone. Thanks to one dude that is wayyyyy older than me. He asked what was wrong with my phone, I rose in my defence that I was saving for one. Asked which, told him. New phone practically the next day. He can, according to himself “take care of me”. He is a nuisance. God used him to cancel out my prayer petition for a phone in July. But that’s now done. He’s now forming marriage. He is at least 40
Let me paint the picture properly. He drives this new range (range rover), he
keeps flaunting his Q10 (blackberry) and S4 (samsung) … It’s weird how saying “i have a boyfriend” in this day and age doesn’t even hold water again” neither does wearing an engagement ring look-alike. Trust me. Men these days believe in throwing money, and like flies following feaces, the girls will come. The sad fact is that they’re right. I have met girls who’ll dance FOR (not with) an old guy in a club so he’d spray money on them. Those that’ll have sex for money… those that’ll go to the houses and into the cars of men they don’t know for this same old money.
And no. This money is not to buy shares… it’s to buy Braz (Brazilian hair) or one ugly fifty thousand naira bag, or huge phones to show off with or the newest Peruvian hair. It’s cut from babies’ heads in Peru, I hear that goes for about three hundred thousand.
And sometimes hardworking girls (like me. YES ME!!! -_-) will just be watching and wondering and yes, sometimes, a little bit of envy comes in too. I mean, I meet the guys too, they stop their cars and I nod when they say ’hi’ and keep walking. They send their drivers with their business cards and I toss it out. And I feel good too. “You can’t be bought,” my mind whispers “think of your successful future. You don’t want anybody to be able to slander you.” And my back straightens even as my bank account dwindles. And I am proud. And I feel good. Then a gist comes about someone’s “success” story… this guy gave her 50 grand or something for “visiting” him, i should thank God with her. I don’t ask why or how. We both know. And a part of me will think, “that could have being you , you know? Crediting fifty thousand. You could get those clothes you have kept in that shop that you’re saving up for. You can even pay to start learning tailoring” … The voice of the devil. I’m not about that kind of life. I’ll get envious at times… but I’ve learnt to redirect it as hunger for my wealth-filled future… nothing will ever compare to the joy that I got there without compromise.