May madness


May was a tough month for me… Really tough. The parents really tried their best to drive me over the wall. It eventually culmated in me shouting at my dad after he locked the room I do my sewing in an effort to keep me from doing my work that night. He did that when I went to get his flask of water downstairs. So, I got upstairs, flask in hand, and lo and behold, the room was locked. This was between 11 and 12 at nighy. I went to his room and he had locked his door as well. 

At this point, ladies and gentlemen, i lost it. I went ballistic. I shouted, i banged at their door; it isn’t a moment I’m at all proud of. But I was very fragile emotionally and physically at that point, i was at the edge. 

It had been two months of craziness since my friend arrived. If not for how open my friend and I were at communicating, I promise you, our 12 year old friendship would have gone down the drain. She knew my parents mannerisms almost as well as I and we weasled our way through. So, when they took to calling her to reprimand my behaviours for her to “talk” to me as a “good friend” it was a new card that they had never played  a because growing up, they never ever had an interest in meeting our friends. These behaviours were:

  1. Why do i always laugh with her and not with them?
  2. Why does she go to church and i don’t?
  3. why am i always with her, she should make sure she sends me away next time i come to check her in the chalet

There were also threats of sending her away for the slightest things. We talked indepth about everything, my friend and I but, in that week, asides all the parental drama, I had a mad deadline to meet and was barely sleeping. My father would go to bed by 11 and see me at the sewing machine; he would wake up 5 and meet me still at the sewing machine and there was no consideration, no sympathy. Just a series of “what have you done for mes” “the same diligence you use to work for your customers (if not greater) is for your parents”. I started to call him Captain Von Trapp in my head, before Maria came on the scene that is.

I said a lot of things in the dead of that night. A lot of things that would have, on a normal day, been left unsaid. But the fact was I knew that he had locked that door, to deliberately get a rise out of me. I rarely rose to anger but there is always a day of reckoning. I remember, at a point my mum came out asking, “are you mad?” (In Yoruba) and i told her “this situation doesn’t concern you. Action and reaction are equal and opposite… He locked that door to get a reaction from me and by God, he will get it.” I’m such a science geek. Lol.

I almost left this house that day, the only things that held me was my friend fast asleep in the chalet and my sewing machine – My livelihood. It’s one thing to flee home at 20 (which I did) another thing when you have a machine and customers​ to fend to.

I almost renounced my car that day. I had already taken my spare box (aka vex box, containing spare clothes, undies and shoes in case I had to leave the house real quick) and car accessories out, torn out all my car and church stickers. I wanted to slash the tyres… I swear. I was a haze of anger. When it clicked: He might have bought the car but it was my money that had gone into its maintenance and upkeep these past 4 years, not his. Possession was 90% of the law and Abby (car’s name) would remain mine. My dad would later used his steering lock on the car to ensure i didn’t drive it but, as the car had a fault and I wasn’t driving her, I ignored him and the lock.

In the esueing days, he would lock the gate from within when I went out to give a customer her clothes, to ensure I couldn’t come back in. If i went to the chalet to check on my friend, I would get back to the house and the door would be locked. This even happened at night! And my twin brother revelled in it. He seems to think we’re in some sort of competition so when there’s a strain in my relationship with my parents he levers on it and starts doing chores he will never do to show he is the better one. He will take my dad aside and paint a more detrimental picture of me to my dad. He’s 26. I’ve spent a large portion of my life not caring for him and watching him perfect this mannerism that it’s just amusing now.

I moved my sewing machine back to my room. It’s pretty cramped there but it will suffice, for now.

The events in May has made me take the bull by the horn concerning my moving out dream. This house is not mine. I do not belong here. I will never be truly happy here. These are realisations that May birthed in me. Realisations that have me looking deeper into my business and her financial stand and what I will do to get her to where we need to be: a studio/apartment.

Amazingly, business opportunities have opened up in all directions and I am so excited​. Me and my bank account both. Can’t wait to save enough to get out of here!!


Juggle joggle jorggle


I had big plans guys. Big BIG plans to start posting weekly at a business center down the road. Because, after my last post (which I didn’t get to finish properly because my friend proved to be a massive distraction and made my brain go fuzzy), i realized just how much i had missed blogging.

For those that don’t know what business centers are; long long ago, some 10 years ago. Huge rooms with cubicles and cubicles of computers were made. hourly or thirty minute-ly you browsed as you paid. There was even one two streets from my place that said “no shoes, no service” i bet they’ll be begging for dust to even cross their threshold now. But a few of these archaic business centers still run though, mainly on fuel and generators. And it was to one of these my two left legs were to carry me to do my blogging, yahoomail-ing and what have you every Saturday. At least, that was the plan till Nigeria’s economy struggled to stand under the collective weight of the tankers packed along Apapa road, the queues and queues of cars hoping for fuel, and the smiles of plastic sellers selling off kegs… In other words, till the fuel scarcity happened.

A fuel station

The apapa road and its starcrossed love with tankers

Kegs doing their rollcall outside a station.

And so, that was that. Whilst most people have to struggle for fuel to get to work, my sewing machine lives somewhere next to my mattress somewhere in my room; so err… No fuel needed. Except when i need to go sourcing for thread and stuff and then i use my range rover trek.

get it?


……….. Waits for you to get it………

anywaysssss, When it is NOT wearing out my sandals, it is actually good exercise that i have not been getting. At all. My tummy is getting bigger, guys. It’d have been sad if i was actually eating bad food but, it’s good food.  WHARRREFFFUUURRRR!!! I DON’T CARE!!! #teamFatAndHealthy.

I’m lying… I’m crying on the inside… And my stomach is licking the sugar in the tears.

Tummy aside, i have a tonne of work on my shoulders. I’m making some clothes towards a fair in some months time and things got a little real for me early this week. I’ve sourced up a whole load of fabrics this past month, and the expenses have me a little wide-eyed. And early this week, it dawned on me that somewhere between fabric and final piece of clothing is a me patterning, cutting AND sewing. That picture got me spooked. I wasn’t just going to be making clothes according to what i know a client likes or what a client had seen me wear and wants… I am going to be making clothes for people i haven’t ever seen before. And that kinda had me on tenterhooks about what exactly i was going to be doing. What if nobody buys?

That’ll be painful.

I’ll just roll up my sewing machine and dust out my Certificate… Which i don’t yet have… But well… Industrial chemistry was sort of crappy and boring to be honest. Working in a laboratory 8-5. Zzzzzzzz😴 But I talked to a friend and he was like all or nothing, Go big or go home and he said that if there was a loss, we would split it. It Kinda made me happy and a bit more confident in my capabilities that someone had that much faith in what I can do.  So I had to hold up my inner balls.  And yeah I’m still a lot scared, but we can only go forward.. Can I hear an ‘Amen’?!!!!

And, to be honest, I’ll rather he spent his money on me in other ways. #goldDigger 😉


… And she really just squeezed it.


I am not a prude.
I have seen more naked female bodies than i even remember. Strangers have seen my body, i have seen strangers’ bodies.
Its that normal.
From secondary school through to university and NYSC camp. In fact, the last time I had any views of prudeness was probably at eleven years old; when i stepped into Louisville Girls High School, my prison for the following years of my life. After the first week, bathing in the same bathroom with three girls at once, all thoughts of scuttling into a towel and covering my womanly bits were dead.

So, when i saw movies of friends tapping fellow friends asses; checking if it were padded or not. Checking the bras their friends had on to check how much foam the bra had in it or how real the supposed boobs were once they were in the bathroom, I was like ‘nehh’, Hollywood has come again.
Imagine my surprise wgen one day, while i was gossiping Talking intellectual jibber-jabber with a friend, one of our colleagues came and gripped one of her boobs and was like “c cup bah?” My friend nodded and the girl disappeared. And that was it.
I was gubsmacked.
My friend wasn’t in the least bit affected by this invasion on her person so, I couldn’t make inquiries into the state of madness of this colleague.
I concluded it was the friendliness and freeness of my friend that would have permitted such boldness. As i was neither friendly or free, i reveled in the joy that my body will never be checked for size or whatnot.
And then, today, One of my older colleagues commented on how supposedly slim i was from front view compared to what the back view was. I laughed. I always laugh about it.
Then, suddenly, i felt a hand close in on my buttocks, jiggling it. She then called another colleague and was like “its even firm,” whilst still pressing and checking what i must assume is the amount of blood flow in the region. The colleague, came over and replied that “wow. My husband cannot walk behind you oh.”
And then they left.
Just like that. Leaving my poor molested bottom to gather the pieces of her life.

The last stand


To start with, dear readers, i have no idea what I’m really meant to write. I started writing a post in my mind yesterday and titled it ‘The last stand’. I think I feel I have some sort of memory card memory.
Apparently not.

But hey, let’s talk about September. We’re on the brink of the last quarter of the year, my beauties and handsomes!
Raaaaaaggghhhh!!! 2015 is winking at us already
And i’m like, the Drunk Archer needs to take a look at her resolutions of the year and see how far she’s done.

1. workout 4 times a week… LOOL… No no… Must have been high when I thought of this. On the high side, lost 2kg from doing absolutely no exercise for the past 4 months.

2. Always have a christian book to read. *sigh*

3. List out your friends names somewhere. Know them, Take care of them. Yessss!!! One mark for me!

4. Less time on twitter. two marks!!!!! Yay me!!!

5. Get your big L on and start letting to drive. Three marks!!! I’m on a roll baybees!!!!

6. Attend more Human resource conferences. Done and done!! Check! 4 marks.

7. Take an hour before bed (10 or 11) to meditate on the day and write down things you are thankful for. Uuuuugggghhhh! *eyes glaze over*

8. Remember the fro and keep her nourished with multivitamins, moisture and oils. Once in a while, guys. Man cannot live by taking care of afros alone. 4.5 marks

9. Go out on more dates. Ummmn … No. Not the random dating type at all. And i’m seriously tired of guys right now… I’m now a shark… A lone shark traversing and daring any penis-wielding dude to dip his toe in my ocean. Oh yeah!

10. Develop a healthy eating regimen. So far, so good! 5.5 marks.

11. Always have a bottle of water in your bag. Well… I try. So, 6 marks.

12. Work on your relationship with God. Yup!! 7 marks.

13. Keep the nails uneaten. I am. I am. 8 marks.

14. Remember date-nights with God and don’t be late. Just an hour late…. That’s okay, right? Jehovah? Dad? Is that cool? .. 9 marks.

15. Learn to sew. Yuuurrrrp!!!! 10 marks.

16. Take yourself out to relax every three weeks. Ain’t nobody get time for that… We rest per night! 11 marks.

17. Reduce the shopping. Make More clothes yup! Hard at work on that! 12 marks.

18. Write your shopping wishlist for the year sha. Because you will still shop. Just keep to the list. i wrote the list… Counts for something right! 13 marks.

19. Save 20% of all inflow. *skips*

20. Pay your 10% tithe. #NeverForgetOrPostpone. Forever and ever and always! 14 marks.

21. Spend 10% for people in need. *Whistles by slowly*

22. Keep a journal of your spendings. TRY! Nahh… Don’t feel like trying.

23. Have a morning routine: pray, read, exercise, eat. *sigh*

14 out of 23….
That’s something! You guys vent so much about resolutions been broken by day two… But it’s month 9 and i’ve gone through 14.



Break that bad belle button


My friend got a new job today… Not the normal new job. I mean the kinda job that cuts your tax and pension and you have to sign on a line that you’re willing to travel out for company errands. I was so excited for her. I know how much she had waited for it. It was like her very own miracle tied up in pretty bows.
Green doesn’t look good on me. I’ve not been in the position of being jealous in a long LONG while. And no, giving a girl your boy-friend hugs the evil eye is not jealousy. It’s a necessity actually.
But I was soo jealous… Like thoughts of “Taiwo, maybe you should quit the sewing classes and get into the workforce” running back to back in my mind… Minus the number of marriages I hear of weekly.
Makes me feel a little stagnant. I told her how I felt, and her understanding was a relief. Because, i truly wanted her to know I was happy about her news, and if she sensed anything else, it was more my disappointment with myself.
I need to work harder. And faster. But more than that, I need to have more faith in God’s plan for me (Jeremiah 29: 11) and keep my eyes on that. Fear is the opposite of trust… This is a sign I don’t trust Him as much as I should. #causeForPauseRightThere.

retrace & learn


I didn’t write a resolution last year.

I don’t even know how that happened. I actually do… I was going through an impulsive phase then… wasn’t blogging much either. NYSC had just started and I was basking in the independence of having money coming in monthly. Great! Great! Great!

But I did learn along the way and that’s more important to me than any resolve.

1. The joy of salvation is real and true and it keeps me going when everything goes down. I’m saved and have a VIP pass to Heaven when I die. And even while here, God loves me and He has good plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11). I was a bit null about this for a while, but on the 11th of december I had my head fixed and had this joy returned fully once more.. can I hear a “whoop!!”?

2. I met a lot of people. We hung out some and were fives and sixes… and time happened and they went away. My only regret is I didn’t make more of these, because they disappear so easy. I don’t mind. They were people to talk to… they were important to have at that time but i wasn’t really attached… but as for the important ones, the favourite ones you DO need. Making out time and (yes) money for them… that’s important.

3. You mightn’t be Ms. Extrovert or Ms. Life of the party but there’s nothing wrong with who you are. Enjoy your “you”.

4. Guys are what they are. And don’t be a deceived. They rarely ever plan to be “just friends”… not like they want relationships oh, but they like having girls around them…. any girl. Especially attractive ones. They aren’t clingy, don’t be decieved. You can be replaced.

7. “Best-friends” aren’t forever and its not worth writing much. It’s in the shit happens sector of life.

6. People change. it’s life. Sometimes, people can’t deal with the new you. It’s life. And sometimes, you can’t deal with the new of others. It’s life as well.

7. “Sorry” isn’t a master-fixer. Nobody likes someone that’s always sorry. Be dependable. Don’t be that person that you depend on to fuck up. Think things through. In hearing sorry… in saying sorry, don’t ever expect things to return to the exact same eay they were.

8. Speaking your mind is a lot more relieving than holding it all in.

9. It is not your pregorative to give your number to anybody that wants it. This is in the bible.

10. Sneakers are awesome.