The Circus Show


He ran the circus! The Joker! He should have won an Oscar because his performance was immaculate! He had been spectacular, unbelievable, so out of this world! He deserved to get a Hollywood Star. He was a performer, a comedian, a joker!

But one of his jokes….


The witty kind, you know, complicated humour. The type that nearly crossed the line between sarcasm and cruel humour. They all laughed! The audience, the spectators, the crowd – they  laughed, big belly fulls of laughter!  Some sniggered, some hooted, some even danced with glee, but mainly everyone laughed at the spectacle in the Circus Ring. Everyone laughed except me. I was oblivious, I did not get it. I’m normally the witty, comic type but this time the joke was lost on me.

But everyone else got the joke….

So they laughed and they hooted and cried with joy all through the show.

It was a freak show! They all laughed at the helpless clown tied up in knots it could not loosen. The Joker! Damn, he was excellent at his show for they all got the punchline! Yet I didn’t! I failed to grasp it.

Months later when the Circus had left town, when the freak show had been over…..

Long after the laughter had all died down, long after the sniggers had faded and the Joker’s Show was only remembered as a ‘Hit from the Past’, when it had all become a distant memory….

It suddenly dawned on me,

Like a bright light shining on me, I got it, the joke!!

I understood it! After all this time I finally got the punchline. It had been so simple! I could see the Circus Ring more clearly. I could even name the cast and I completely got what the joke had been about.


While they had laughed, the audience, the spectators, the observers at the Circus Ring. While they giggled and snickered big belly fulls of laughter as they watched the joke unfold…

I didn’t…

And when I eventually got the joke months later,

I  never laughed, I cried! In fact, I sobbed! Big belly full guttural cries.

I cried because I knew then, what I had failed to see back in the Circus Ring had been our life together, our relationship – The Circus! And you had been the Joker and I the Clown….

I realise now that I had been too blind to grasp, for all that time, all that while…

From your very first act to the final curtain call…

The joke was me

The joke had been on me.
This post was inspired by MaKupsy’s post Would you take back your Ex? 







My Right To Hurt…..(The Rich Also Cry)


I’m so depressed, my boyfriend is cheating on me…

Ah, that’s not important, you have a good job….”

Can you believe what that Pamela has been going around saying about me? I’m so hurt!

“You complain too much sha, thank God you have such and such degrees..”

I feel so lonely, I wish I had a friend..

“With the amount of money you earn, I wouldn’t be worried about not having any friends, go shopping…”

I feel suicidal, I feel like I can’t cope.

“Don’t be ridiculous, so many guys are falling over themselves trying to date you….”


It’s not that I don’t count my blessings, I do, each and every day…..when I wake up and when I go to bed but it wouldn’t matter anyway  if I didn’t because I can name at least 30 people who would be happy and willing to count them for me. It’s not even that they need my invitation, NO, my ears are already ringing from their constant reminders of how lucky or blessed I am……You’re so lucky you have a good job, You’re so lucky you’re intelligent, You’re so lucky your parents are still alive, You’re so lucky you have such a close family. You’re so lucky you got that promotion. I really envy you. I wish I were like you. You are my inspiration, God has been really kind to you……..Arghhhhhhhhhh


Wouldn’t it drive you crazy as well? I’m so sick of it. It’s not that I am ungrateful, not at all, I more than anyone else know that God has been more than merciful to me but I feel suffocated by the need/expectations from people to show how eternally grateful I am for the small…….actually big mercies that God has shown me. It’s not the fact that people are constantly reminding me to be grateful that bothers me, it’s the fact that for some reason people believe that the traumas, misfortunes, problems, catastrophes that I have gone through are simply inconsequential and not worth recognising since my ‘countless blessings’ make up for whatever hurt/pain/humiliation I might be going through. For the same reasons, I am the type of person who has to wail loudly before someone recognises that I am in pain, weeping silently just won’t cut it and even when they finally recognise my pain, my feelings are instantly dismissed because they do not matter……simply because I have achieved more than the odds for a 25 year old African woman.


I never get to have a voice……this is the story of my life! I feel as though I am being punished for having achieved more, having conquered despite the odds even though I am where I am today through sweat, blood and tears. I hate the life that I have, not that it’s not wonderful but because I do not matter enough. People have stopped seeing the real me and have started seeing degrees, intelligence, a privileged upbringing etc. Sometimes I feel if I were to commit suicide, the first comments wouldn’t be of concern but those of reproach, What a waste, her life was great!  or She killed herself, why? I thought she had a good job and all…..(and NO, I do not plan on committing suicide).


From a very early age I learnt to shut up about my pain. I did not like to complain or let anyone else know that I was unhappy. I learnt to feel guilty for being unhappy which made me even unhappier, which then made me feel even more guilty and ashamed of myself, which made me even more depressed and then i’d feel even guiltier (if there’s even such a word) for being depressed when I should have been grateful …….in short, it became a vicious cycle.


It probably still is the same up to now. I still have to think twice before I tell my problems to people because I’d need to say them at least 5 times before they are taken seriously. I remember once after a very traumatic incident absolutely no-one comforted me and when I tried to reach out to people, they simply told me not to be silly, my life was good, how they envied me! I remember calling my cousin in tears telling her I couldn’t cope anymore……I remember her telling me not to be silly and to compose myself! I was the luckiest person in the world and a lot of people envied my life…..She said to me that she was cooking and that I should call her back when I have had a grip on reality. “Don’t be silly…”  she said, but if only she knew how close I was to the brink at that precise moment! Do you know that a large number of suicides are committed by people who are middle class or higher? Not that it’s a sport for the rich and fabulous or fantastic but statistics show that they are more suicides committed than by poorer people……I guess that is what they mean when they say Money Can’t Buy You Happiness….which is not true……it is because people are too busy thinking that your money should buy you happiness that they forget to make the time to ensure that you are really and truly happy .


I guess I am just sick and tired of having to shout in order to be heard. I’m tired of having to stand last in line when it comes to receiving compassion and kindness, cuddles and warmth from other people simply because I have been unduly blessed. Just because God has been merciful to me doesn’t change the fact that I am still human. I have insecurities. I have days that I feel ugly. Periods of time where I feel like the world is crushing on me, closing on me and I cannot breath. There would be days where I would require a shoulder to lean on. There will be months where I would gladly trade my life for yours, weeks where I won’t feel like getting out of bed, mornings where I weep and cry out to God, why me Jehovah? It doesn’t mean that I am ungrateful or have lost sight of the countless blessings that I have……it’s just that I am human and despite the countless blessings and the great mercies, if you cut me open I will bleed! So next time I am in despair and I could do with a friend, please do not recite my numerous blessings…..just give me a hug. I could do with a friend and not a blessings accountant.


“For sometimes late at night, when they lay naked in their beds with only the clock ticking to keep them company, long after the safes are locked and the banks are closed, well after their expensive clothes lie in the laundry basket and the jewellery is removed and the Jaguar is parked in the garage. Long after the stock market has closed and the house help has gone home and the curtains are drawn……..they are overwhelmed by a deep sense of loneliness …..sometimes the rich…….actually……..sometimes I, Felly, just like the rich, also cry!”


Thank you to my amazing family, especially my sister Mai Sama, who is relentless in ensuring my happiness. Thank you to my soldier – my mother, who would give up everything to see me smile. Thank you to my friends, Vee, Shannon, Sharon, Vimbai, Trish and Ashley, who listen to me rant day in and out without ever complaining. Above all, thank you to my Father – for without you as a friend and advisor, I would never have known true happiness. I appreciate your sacrifices for my happiness, daddy! 


Un-Celibate, Condoms and Cows…


So my celibacy count is down to a mere 6 days, I don’t even know if that still counts as being celibate but a girl lasted a whole 97 days! I thought that was impressive so I took myself out for a lovely meal I could barely afford and drunk £35 a glass wine to celebrate this great achievement. I miss being celibate though *insert big sigh here*. I miss being so self-righteous amongst my rampant friends, celibacy was almost like I belonged to some elite, stuffy, boring, uptitty club but now I wish I had just made him put the ‘head’ in lol so that I could technically remain a celibate,  non-condom buying, innocent so and so.


Speaking of condoms, God they are so dear! Eh….there is something oddly unsettling about mentioning God and condoms in the same sentence but seriously, last time I bought condoms (now they come free, thank God) …anyway, the last time I bought condoms, they cost 75 pence each and came in  one shape, one colour and had the same latex taste lol.  I purchased my first condoms at 11…….from my cousin brother aged 6 who had stolen them the local tuck-shop. I was busy playing with my new ‘balloons’ when our maid at the time took it to my mother…..who in an effortless and expert fashion domestic violenced my ass shouting, “Show me where it goes…” the entire time whilst beating the living daylights out of me! I’ve never understood why Black mothers insist on your response to their questions whilst they dance dangerously on the brink of culpable homicide! I always found it impossible to multitask the screaming/yelling and dancing two-step as well as logically answering her questions…..anyway, I became permanently scarred, that buying condoms now has monumental fear attached in case mama suddenly leaps out from  the counter  and shouts ‘Show me where it goes!!!’


So Him and I are having a ‘thing’. Gosh, I hate having a thing with a guy. You know that indescribable confusing stage where you have moved past the point of being casual (we speak on the phone for days on end, been introduced as the ‘girlfriend’ to people who really matter i.e., mother! Yes, can you believe it? and he tells me I’m the only person he wants to be with) but for reasons best known to myself, I absolutely refuse to classify what we have as a relationship so ‘a thing’ it is. Things are supposed to be less complicated. I used the word supposed because in reality they are messy and a whole lot complicated. What is a ‘thing’ anyway? Does it give you a license to diversify your man portfolio? Legitimately, I can have a thing with one guy and still do another thing on the side, afterall, we are just having a thing, right? Is a relationship a relationship because you have that conversation you agree to be exclusive and say, ‘yeah, we are now in a relationship’? Or is it a case of if it looks like a dog, barks like a dog and lives in a kennel then it is a dog, even if it calls itself a cow? But to save my own sanity, what we have cannot be a dog relationship. I insist that we call it a cow, a non-milk producing, barking, kennel-sleeping dog-look-alike, nonetheless I insist it be called a cow.


This post was especially written for Datmariandage and Tino_Wekwa_Govha, who have been relentless is getting me to update my blog! 

It had been a while you guys, I have loads to update you guys on but work……well, I do need the money so work will just have to come first 🙂

The Morning After The Night Before.


So it was my birthday this past Wednesday and you’d think I’d have come back to an overflowing blog with birthday messages but bloody traitors, none of you Judas Iscariots (all non-Christians please see me) even remembered to celebrate my birth with me. I will be charitable though and announce that I have turned 23 again….2 years in a row!


I didn’t get up to much on my actual birthday, my work colleagues brought in cake and we basically declared half the day free as there were no managers on site. We watched daytime TV till 5pm when I had to leave for a family dinner and more cake! On Thursday I went out for drinks with a few friends, but I don’t remember much……which is why I need to stop drinking completely! I did take a rather interesting quiz though with results posted below but as I am still quite hungover, my answers may be seriously flawed!


Rules: This simple quiz may help you answer the question, Am I an Alcoholic? Give yourself one point for every YES answer. 


1. Should you worry about your drinking problem only when you get hospitalised for Liver Disease?

No. Definitely not! You should start worrying when you can no longer make it to the bathroom in time or the hangover hurts so much, you have to call in sick at work and use the excuse, “something escaped from the zoo and I had to help catch it”.

2. Have you ever ordered alcohol with lunch?

I have ordered alcohol instead of lunch so the answer is No.

3. At your local bar, do they know you by the name on your driver’s license/Fake I.D? Do they know your usual drink or who to call when you pass out?

I actually don’t have a usual drink. The usual changes according to the time of the month and is in relation to payday, how broke I am and the person paying for the drinks. The answer is NO.

4. You generally hang out with drinkers at the pub, sellers at wine and liquor stores and you have bartenders and waitresses as friends?

OK. This is stupid! Who in their mid-twenties still ‘hangs out?’ I socialise and I entertain, hanging out is for teenagers. The answer is NO.

5. You’ve mastered acting sober even when you are gone with the wind?

When I am gone with the wind, I act like I’m gone with the wind! Trying to act sober requires too much effort which I could easily put towards getting even more wasted so the answer is NO.

6. You drink all week then take a day off to recuperate?

NO. I don’t drink all week but I can drink one week’s allowance of alcohol in one day then take the whole week to recuperate so the answer is NO.

7. You’re very comfortable drinking alone, whether at home or at the pub.

I never drink alone because I’m too stingy to buy my own round of alcohol. Also, technically you can never drink alone in a pub because you are surrounded by other drinkers. The answer is NO.

8. Do you drive better drunk than when sober?

Well, I have never entered a “Do you drive better drunk than sober” contest to test my driving skills so I couldn’t accurately answer this question. However, I have never had an accident driving drunk or sober so simple logic would indicate that my driving skills either when drunk or sober are very similar so NO.

9. Does your drinking make you careless of your family’s welfare?

NO. I would never put my family through risks they are unwilling to take. If I’m going to be driving with my toes when drunk or at 185mph in a 20 mph zone, I will ask them if they are willing to be in the car and I will carry out a thorough risk assessment beforehand i.e., ask if they are wearing their seat belts so the answer is NO.

10. Is drinking making your home life unhappy?

My home life is unhappy for a variety of reasons, none which include my drinking. In actual fact, drinking makes my home life seem less unhappy so the answer is NO. (BTW, what do you mean by home life? If you live with your 3 cats, does that still constitute homelife?

11. Do you drink whenever you can but occasionally decide that a sober night with your sweetheart would be cool?

This question is irrelevant because I do not have a ‘sweetheart’. I’d have to answer NO to this.

12. Is drinking affecting your reputation?

NO because for that to happen, I’d need to have a reputation in the first place. I was either born without a reputation or I have managed to completely tarnish it into non-existence so the answer is NO.

13. Do you wish people would just mind their own business in relation to your drinking? To just stop telling you what to do?

I just wish people would mind their own business all the damn time and not just in relation to my drinking! As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind people all up in my drinking business if it means they will stay out of my home/work/lifestyle related business so the answer is NO.

14. Every morning you wake up with the curiosity of the night before and a headache?

Not every morning! I mean who wakes up with a headache every morning? Surely you’d have visited the hospital a long time ago or registered disabled by now? Besides, I wake up not wanting to remember the night before rather than be curious about it so the answer is NO.

15. Do you sometimes skip breakfast or lunch so that you can have enough money to spend on drinks?

NO. I earn enough money to be able to have both breakfast and lunch and still afford to go out for drinks so the answer is NO.

16. You’re always drunk and can longer handle your drink.

NO. I can definitely handle my drink! To illustrate this point more clearly, I had at least 6  cocktails on Thursday night and my sober cousin told me this morning, “You didn’t even seem drunk at all…” so the answer remains NO.

17. During arguments, do people quickly concede your point rather than risk dealing with you when you’ve gotten drunk?

People concede my points because I make so much sense, also, I am very convincing! Besides, until I have the stamina of Floyd Mayweather, I’d never be confident enough to deal with people so the answer is NO.

18. Do you drink at a certain time everyday?

If you craved a drink everyday at a certain time, it’d be pretty weird wouldn’t it? I’ve occasionally craved a drink everyday but sometimes at 7:15am, sometimes at 12:47pm and sometimes at 16:00hrs! I’m yet to crave a drink at the same time everyday so the answer remains NO.

19. Have you been in financial difficulty as a result of your drinking?

Please refer to question 15 but in case you need further clarification: I was already in financial difficulties way before I even started drinking! Also, when I have drunk all my money nearly to the point of financial difficulty, I am wise enough to put away my wallet and let someone else in the pub pay for my drinks so the answer is NO.

20. Have you ever had complete memory loss as a result of your drinking?

This is just ridiculous! I mean how would I know if I had complete memory loss if I had actually had complete memory loss? Just for the record, I have had partial memory loss like forgetting where my house is but getting the street right so the answer is NO.

21. Has your doctor ever treated you for drinking?

I have never had an illness called “Drinking” therefore never been treated for it. Is it similar to the Flu? I must remember to check that out on Google.

22. Have you ever been in a hospital or institution on account of drinking?

What do you mean by ‘institution?’ Are you referring to a school institution like a university or college or a health institution? I’ve been in a hospital and not because I was drinking but someone who had been drinking had whacked my friend with a bottle so YES, I’ve been in an institution on account on drinking, just not my own.

23. Do you tell yourself you can stop drinking when you want to, even when you keep getting drunk when you don’t mean to?

I always get drunk on purpose so NO.

24. Do you turn to lower and inferior companions when drinking?

LOL. I wish I could answer Yes to this question cause it would be really funny if my friends, who also happen to be my drinking companions ever read this. Anyway, what do you mean by ‘lower’ companions? Do you mean people poorer than me or is it a politically correct term for prostitutes? The answer is NO. I am definitely very open and adventurous when it comes to drinking and all alcohol related activities. I don’t discriminate!

25. Does drinking cause you to have difficulty sleeping?

Actually, drinking makes me sleep better! I go out on a Friday night and sleep through Saturday to Monday morning in recuperation so NO, drinking hasn’t caused me any difficulty falling asleep!

26. Has your alertness and efficiency decreased since you started drinking?

I don’t understand this question but I will endevour to answer it as best as I can. I have never been energy efficient. I do not recycle and I always dry my clothes in the tumble dryer so NO, my energy efficiency has not decreased! If you mean efficiency at work then you are better off asking my manager but in my honest opinion, I haven’t been efficient at work. The only thing stopping me from being fired is my lecherous boss so the answer is NO.

27. Are you definitely worried about your drinking as a result of this quiz?

Definitely not! If anything, I am more confident and sure of my drinking capabilities, which shall remain as were before this quiz!



0-1   It is safe for you to head to the drinking cabinet/bar.

2 -3  Watch that drink and work towards getting rid of that beer belly.  

4-5    You’re most likely to be an alcoholic

6-10   Join your nearest AA meeting

10+     I’d have suggested you slit your wrists but that would be classed as “….inciting someone to commit suicide” which is a federal offense and I am unwilling to go to prison on that account.


So I have 1 YES and 26 NO’s! It is confirmed, contrary to what my mother, pastor and everyone thinks that I, Felly am not an alcoholic! This calls for a celebration! Anyone care to join me at the pub? The 1st 87 rounds are on me!


** the questions are real but the scoreboard is not**





This post was actually meant to be up at some point last week but it’s almost my birthday and I’ve been stressed……worried I mean! Not only would I be adulting on a whole new level but the “she’s young and stupid” excuse would no longer apply, also, that small issue of finding a husband……which basically shouldn’t apply to me as I am still celibate! I just think marriage is an outrageous expectation of me, given that some of the decision making factors are out of play, however, celibacy has been hard. It’s a bit like being locked in a room with a buffet of all your favourite food and told not to eat a thing. I am worried I have become sexnorexic but I bet this will make mama proud, for not only does she preach abstinence but damn well ensures it is practised with the ruthlessness of an African dictator.


I went to bed last night thinking of a multitude of things and playing out scenarios in my head. I do this a lot……roll out an entire theatre, complete with main and sub actors. I dramatise it as well for maximum effect. I am more of an escapist, I hate confrontations unless they are in my head. Anyway, what was I saying…..oh yes, sex. It’s nearly 70 days without any sex and my loins are starting to burn a hole in my lacy underwear, they basically need putting out and I just can’t jump any hapless man like a hyena on heat, I might injure him or myself for that matter. Need to do something about it cause it’s affecting my work. Last week while in a meeting with some colleagues about risk assessment of a drug of some sort……I wasn’t really listening, only went cause there was a cake trolley and I was volunteered in my absence. Anyway, whilst unashamedly stuffing my face with cream cakes I kept staring at all the men’s crotches…..bad form I know but no bulges in sight. Conclusion: All the men in the risk assessment team have small willies…..oh well, at least they get paid very, very well. See what I mean by celibacy affecting my work? I need a new distraction!


After work I went to the Cinema solo……the ticket girl…..with lots of zits on her forehead kept giving me the “I pity you smile” all through. I decided to freak her out by staring at her without blinking (I had my afro hair and no make-up), she soon dropped that stupid smile and wouldn’t even look at me as I collected my tickets…..I purposely let my hand go over hers for dramatic effect, she flinched! I laughed so hard in my head and went to watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2. Don’t judge.


Got home and watched Snapped: Women Who Kill….God, I feel like an outcast typing this you know! It’s like admitting to fancying serial killers but I do like reality crime and I record all episodes on the CI and Investigation Discovery channels. I should be ashamed of myself and start watching conversation-friendly shows like Real Housewives of Atlanta and Downtown Abbey.


I went to bed wearing an ex’s T-shirt……not by choice, all nightwear is either in laundry or packed as I am moving home soon. The alternative would have been naked. Insomnia set in and I decided to call my brother in the US knowing fully well that he was asleep. I told him I was pregnant and didn’t know who the father was. He went quiet for a few seconds then said, “You’re so fucked! Mama is going to incinerate your ass!!!” With him woken up, we spoke for 20 minutes about his girlfriend…..the one he wants to dump but is too scared! Coward! Actually, I shouldn’t be too hard on him, she’s so scary! I met her before and she has this permanent eerie smile constantly…….even when we watched Gone With The Wind…..everyone cries after Gone With The Wind, she didn’t.


My brother stipulated…..yup, that’s the word he used…..that I must get a man this year. Mama had told him that my other ‘unmarried’ BFF had just been married on April 2nd and her and daddy were getting increasingly concerned regarding my lack of initiative in the matter. I told him to get off my case, men are not displayed in the ‘Reduced to Clear’ section of the supermarket! He insisted…..his word again……that I address the issue or I’ll end up a spinster with my 8 cats. I don’t have any cats, even though I am thinking of getting one. I asked how many spinsters he knew with an Anya Hindmarch  handbag casually draped on their shoulder? I told him before I get a boyfriend, I must get laid first, then I will be ready.


My brother told me to get off the phone, he wanted to sleep…….I did…..but not before I told him that his girlfriend had emailed me wedding gown pictures!


So back to my initial midnight thoughts……What was I thinking of? Oh yes, how good it’d feel to be cuddled up with my coconut head resting on a man’s chest! Even celibates deserve to have wishful, happy thoughts. I fell asleep and dreamt being chased by cats the size of elephants! Go figure.


Disclaimer: I am not pregnant by unknown men. This is important to note as my mother may have discovered this blog and do not want her hurling me to the priest in urgent need of an exorcism…..or better still, exorcise that demon out of me herself!


Happy Saturday folks! The sun is shining in Scotland!



I’ll Take Mine Celibate, Thank You!


the vagina you’re trying to reach is no longer in service


It’s disgusting that I promised a story to tell then went MIA, but life has been a whirlwind of late, thrashing me like a rag doll but the mascara is still on and I’m still wearing my heels in defiance, I shall go down in my 6 inch heels if needs must, hopefully not.


I still have a job…..and might be going for a better one soon – Thank you Lord cause this economic climate is so scary, many have fallen so I thank God for his Mercy.


I have lost weight – even without dieting and haphazardly going to the gym!!!! Miracle! Actually, my gym ought to be sued, what’s with the sabotaging, building a fitness suite right next to a Drive-Through McDonald’s and a Tony Macaroni restaurant such that whilst you’re huffing and puffing, almost spitting your liver out on the treadmill, the smell of freshly made burgers and pasta carbonara wafts through the entire gym and upsets your skinny priorities? Did I mention that you also get money off vouchers for both restaurants with your membership when you sign up? The devil is a liar!


I am still single…..and celibate….and even though there has been some male attention, they are all either:

Married and without shame lie that they are single! Satan does work overtime! In my world, no married man will open the cookie jar, however, I have friends who do…or did…but also, I’m a little whatever floats your boat on the matter, if my ramblings How To Date A Married Man are anything to go by.  Back to this married man, he refuses to listen to the voice of reason. He even swore on the Bible (God please send bolts of lightning) saying he is not married. I know his friends…..they all confirmed he is married, however, he don tire, he still protests! Last week he called me over 10 times back to back, I got scared! I called my friend, she called her brother. Her brother called him. The calls ceased. This week the calls have started again. Last night the man nearly cried on the phone. Jehovah save me! I threatened to tell his Pastor (I have no clue what church he attends lol) and he promised never to contact me again. He says he is innocent and that I have been unfair. I told him pele but life is a bitch sometimes, It will be well!


The men are SINGLE but want to take things slow and go with the flow! Flow? Where do you want ‘flow’ to? I’m 25 and really have no time to be ‘flowing’. God forbid such agents of darkness who do not know what they want. You’ll even hear one say, I don’t know what I want? Like really? At your age? A whole 34 years on this universe and you don’t know what you want? Anyway,  I just blocked this one on all angles, told him that I was currently out of town. I hope I don’t bump into him anywhere!

Disclaimer: I am all for taking things slow, however with a purpose! I hate situationships and dating limbos where you don’t really know what you’re doing. ‘Going with the flow’ complicates things, make up your mind. You either like someone or you do not or maybe you just want a fuck buddy – all allowed, just not with me.


A Player. This one is a friend’s brother. Let me explain. One of my BFFs is male and old enough (34 to be precise) and this boy is his best pal, his buddy, his bro, U get the drift? Problem is I have a discriminatory clause when it comes to Players, as I have had my heart broken too many times. Then he is Yoruba (Google them!). Anyway, the boy will not let me rest. Last month he bought me a very lush bracelet. Nobody has ever bought me anything designer before so I told him I cannot accept the gift. He said he can’t take it back, it’s a gift! Therefore the matter is now out of my hands, I shall keep the bracelet.


In other matters, my work colleague! See, by virtue of both being African and working in the same office, we now have a friendship thing going but this babe, sigh! I may need the services of hannibal lecter – she needs to be consumed! The issue, this babe wants a relationship to work by hook or crook but you should see the boy she wants all this with, commander in chief of all players! My babe has gone through bouts of depression, self-pity, anger, anguish, yet she still soldiers on. I must remember to take a leaf out of her book because the girl is dedicated, although slightly obsessed! Abi, she will spirit the relationship out of thin air cause with this boy, he is at least 20 places as I type this. He is incapable of faithfulness. 


On the other hand, I understand the dark place that she is in because most people by a certain age want to get settled and get married and have kids. I say most because some obviously don’t e.g hermits. You never hear a hermit say they want to get laid, Oh No! They don’t need that human contact, it’s us mere mortals that go gaga if we are devoid of such emotions so I get her 100%! My problem is I need to get laid first before my ovaries explode.
In other news, I came close to doing the deed but in my defence, the Sauvignon Blanc was kicking and in his defense he was getting drunk……and condomless, so he did what any decent man would and went South. I did what any drunk woman would and lost all inhibitions. I moaned and screamed in climax and passed out in sleep. He was not amused! Apparently, he wanted me to return the favour but in all honesty, I should have mentioned how I suffer from S&L (selfishness and laziness) when under the influence. We still talk and I think he wants a re-run…..but as my wine goggles are now off, there’s definitely no chance of that ever happening!

 P/S – Does the above affect celibacy? I need to google that. I need to know what kind of celibacy I’m on, you know, just like vegetarians, some eat fish and are still vegetarian whilst others are 100% strict! I think my celibacy is gonna have to cap it at the sex – anything else before that shouldn’t matter, I think! But, judge not! I know you people are definitely having sex out there! 

 Anyway, I hope you are all staying out of trouble. Also, remember God – It’s never too late! 



Lessons Worth Learning…



Let me start with a disclaimer LOL.

I love my mother……but I will not pretend like the rest of you do that I am best friends with her. She’s just mama – not a pal, not a BFF, not a friend but just mama LOL.

Anyway, growing up, my mother taught me a lot of valuable things – lessons that were mostly practical and delivered through the use of dangerous body damaging apparatus such as my father’s leather belt, sticks and sometimes whatever was near her that she could throw at me at the time. My mother was a professional at all kinds of lessons that required torture, however, she forgot to teach me the biggest lesson of them all, Under No Circumstances Shall Thou Spit At Random Dudes, especially those hanging around the taxi ranks! I shall never forgive my mother for this oversight…..the tiny shreds of my dignity were completely made a bonfire out of as a result of this unfortunate incident.


“He massacred my ass  right in the middle of the shopping district. I ran like the wind towards my mother’s office with my 6 inch heels held firmly in my hands. I mean, what better place to seek sanctuary than in the arms of the woman who gave birth to me? Big mistake! He ran like a tornado and chased me right past the uniformed doorman and the revolving doors whilst still trying to kick my ass with his size 10 clad feet (who knew that men could multi-task? lol). With this random boy still in hot pursuit, I bumped into mama in the reception lobby and my mother being the strong Black woman that she is, decided to take charge of the situation. By taking charge of the situation, my mother wanted to know a) Why I was 20 minutes late for our appointment b) Why I was charging into her office shoeless and out of breathe and c) Why an obviously crazy airtime selling boy was chasing me. But the opportunity to address the situation was completely taken away from me, I did not have the chance to answer because airtime selling boy had already uttered, Ma…..I do not know this girl but can you imagine that she spat right in my face… I was common filth! Can you imagine that Ma? “


I cannot begin to describe to you what took place after those words escaped the mouth of airtime-selling boy. All I can say is that Hell hath no fury like a woman whose daughter just spat at a random stranger! She domestic-violenced my ass, right there in the reception lobby and in full view of the underpaid receptionist who had on a hairstyle she could barely afford on her wages and was clearly being sugar-daddied  by one of the senior management. It was in full view of the doorman and his weather chapped hands  that had roughed from years of opening doors for management, who were clearly not disabled but were deemed too educated to be carrying out trivia such as opening doors for themselves! For a very brief moment, mama turned to airtime-selling boy and said in her boardroom authority, Mwanangu, let me handle this…….There and then, she took off her high heels, placed her handbag on the floor and proceeded to wallop me in an expert and effortless fashion, not giving a damn about the people who had started to gather.


I danced the 2-step with my feet yo-yoing on the ground like I was stepping on hot coal whilst my mother was working in her expert fashion on me. The doorman tried to come to my rescue but almost got his weather chapped hands amputated by mama’s high heels which were landing on different parts of my body in quick successive fashion. I could smell death…..even the plea’s from the underpaid receptionist  were not deterring my mother from disciplining me in full public view. Next thing I knew the doorman was down on his knees, hands held high as if in surrender and crying out to my mother, Ma……please stop! She has had enough. She has learnt her lesson now. Please stop now Ma….My mother went in a bit longer and after she was satisfied the tiny shreds of dignity I had left had been completely made extinct, she ordered me to her office. I swear I could hear my mother offering the airtime-selling boy $10 for the indignity I had him suffer, which the boy unashamedly accepted! I can honestly say that was the best or worst beating of my life….depending on who you were interviewing, my mother or I.


Rewind 15 minutes earlier.

You see, I had met airtime-selling boy outside the taxi/bus rank as I was on my way to my mother’s office. OK. It is true that I had spat right at him, in his face  and this is exactly how I had done it – I had looked him right in the eye and had spat at him with all the force that I could fathom! But I can explain because I see you all getting judgmental……Airtime selling boy had asked for it! The boy had literally begged me to do it! As a matter of fact, his exact words had been, If you don’t fancy me like I fancy you, then spit in my face and I will know that you mean it and I won’t ever bother you when I see you get off the kombi (mini-bus). Obviously me being the obedient child that I was taught to be in Sunday School, was not comfortable with his demand but airtime-selling boy had insisted! He had even started to follow me to my mother’s office and I was pleading with him not to, as I would get in trouble with mama if she saw me with a random dude who sells airtime at the bus and taxi rank but no, the boy had insisted. Spit in my face and I will leave you alone……..Spit in m………I didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence, I turned around, looked him right in the eye and dutifully obliged!


Fast-forward 3 seconds later….

He massacred my ass  right in the middle of the shopping district. I ran like the wind towards my mother’s office with my 6 inch heels held firmly in my hands.


So, lessons learnt!

I woke up missing my mother so much so dedicated to do a throwback post to some of the classic moments we all laugh about now. I say I am nothing but my mother’s child and that is because I am. I would not change a thing about my childhood or her…..for whatever she did was in the hopes that I would mature to the amazing woman that I am today. And in case you were wondering……I WAS NOT ABUSED as a child you guys and my mother is definitely my closest friend!

Happy Monday y’all!

Home-Made Porn……Under The Influence!


The best porn is live porn.

Me and Belinda are no longer friends. In fact, to be grammatically precise, Belinda and I are no longer friends and if you ask me, it was completely her fault LOL.  It was a good idea at first, as good as any idea formulated after a few bottles of cheap alcohol could be (actually, let me just ask…how much is a bottle of Lambrini where you stay?). It was very generous of me as her best friend to offer some practical support, for what good is emotional support in times of crisis? On consulting the Friendship Manual, my practical support extended to medical slash free porn slash a shoulder-to-lean-on kinda support – which I have happy to give by the way, for what use was I as a friend if I couldn’t provide these? All I wanted was to be there for my best friend in her time of need, the same way she had been for me over our many years of friendship.


I remember the day so well, Belinda and I were having a serious heart-to-heart (such a terrible, terrible idea considering how both of us were heavily under the influence of so many units of alcohol but then again, it was Belinda’s fault for starting the conversation). She said that her new boyfriend made freakish, downright strange noises during sex which sounded alien and they totally freaked her out. Concerned, I asked her exactly what she meant as my worry was already sky-high at this point. You see, my friend’s sexual well-being was just as important to me as it was to her especially with sex being such a determining factor in a relationship, I just wanted her to be getting the very best of it; so I felt it was my duty as a best friend to get to the very bottom of this problem. Still concerned, I asked Belinda if she could imitate these sounds but with her being such a bad actress, I had to ask her to stop. Anyway, still heavily under the influence, she said, wait a minute, I have a brilliant idea…….next time that we are having sex, why don’t you come and watch!?  Not exactly sure what Belinda meant, I asked how this supposedly brilliant idea was supposed to work and she was like, well, you know how I like to have sex in the dark, right? I replied Ah-Huh and she went on to say, OK……I will call him to come over right now and I will leave the door slightly ajar so that you can listen on and give me your honest opinion. I nodded eagerly, too drunk for words at this point to use common sense and the more bizarre the idea got, the more interested I became.

Let me just disclaim here real quick: I am not a pervert or a freak or a sexual deviant or anything of that sort, I was just really, really, really concerned about my best friend’s sexual being. For example, if she thought she was sexing an undercover alien, it was my duty as a best friend to allay or confirm her fears, right? After all, that is what friends are supposed to do……to be there for each other in sickness, turnup and alien sex, right? (I know y’all know I’m right LOL). Anyway, an hour later, Belinda’s boyfriend was on his way to her house and Belinda made me creep into her dark wardrobe, leaving the door slightly ajar so that I wouldn’t miss any of the Star Wars sound effects hehe.


I think I waited uncomfortably in the wardrobe for about 45 minutes to an hour or so for the show to begin. I was wedged between coats that had seen better days and shoes that smelled so bad, my immune system was actually slowly but very surely shutting down just from the smell. It was the most uncomfortable squatting position ever but as a good and loyal friend, I dutifully remained in squat position, numb with a cramp in my left leg, fervently praying that after this ordeal, my leg wouldn’t need to be amputated due to circulation cut off. 

Fast-Forward 10 Minutes Later….She over-performed  cause she knew I was there, he in turn underperformed because he wasn’t aware of their wardrobe audience. From the bumps, thumps and window rattling moves coming from the bed, I just knew I was in for a show to rival any porn movie ever made! 20 seconds later, the sounds began, Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiii eh eh eh eh eish eish eish  siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii maihwe yuwiiii yuwiiii siiiiiii ah ah ah. I thought hmmm, TF those sounds sounding like an owl hooting but I quickly realised that the sounds were actually coming from the bed, maybe the guy had been trying to recite the alphabet backwards but fuck mhani, them sounds were even worse than the Star Wars soundtrack! From all the Eh Eh Eh’s emanating from the bed at one point, I actually thought Belinda and her 103 kg body were trying to send the dude to an early grave, he sounded like he was gasping for air, choking in pain and not in pleasure. I thought of doing a Super-woman rescue from the wardrobe just in case this had become an emergency situation which needed immediate resuscitation but a muted Don’t Stop from the guy assured me that he delighted in that sort of thing so I didn’t move, I continued in my squatting position.


After a few more Yuwiii’s and eh eh eh’s and the final curtain call, I realised that I had a brand new dilemma, how the fuck was I going to exit the wardrobe if alien guy decided to spend the night? My supposed best friend had completely forgotten about me and I was starting to get really uncomfortable in the damn wardrobe! I was also realised that a trip to the hospital to get my left leg amputated due to circulation cut off was fast becoming a reality. I tried to shift around and switch position but that was so difficult considering how I was trapped in a closet full of smelly shoes and God knows what else. It also didn’t help that the alcohol was starting to wear off and I was starting to feel really sick so I debated the worst – to vomit on Belinda’s smelly  shoes or to make an exit from my hiding place and then have a lot of explaining to Mr Alien sounds but I didn’t have to wonder for long, that decision was completely taken away from me. I am not too sure what exactly took place……..if Belinda and I were still friends, maybe she would have clarified the correct version of events…….But I do remember something brushing against my neck, it must have been a coat or a belt or a scarf but my intoxicated mind immediately thought Black Mamba!! I let out a blood curdling scream and tumbled out of the wardrobe! I think I heard someone from the bed call out, Who the fuck is that…but I can’t be exactly sure. All I know is that there was a snake in the wardrobe and that I had to abandon my squatting position pronto! I didn’t wait around to explain to Mr Alien sounds, I mean how could I? I bolted out of the wardrobe and the house, leaving Belinda with a few notes of Usher’s “These are my confessions…” to sing.


What happened after I never really found out. Like I said, Belinda and I are no longer friends! She phoned me a couple of times begging that I call her boyfriend, who she was now referring to as the love of her love, man of her dreams, soul-mate etc. *side note* Does anybody else think Belinda has a serious case of amnesia? I mean was it not just yesterday that she had referred to this guy as alien guy who made freakish sounds during sex and she was getting ready to dump him? Anyway, Belinda demanded that a) I call her boyfriend and b) I state that it had been all my plan and that she didn’t know that I had been hiding in the wardrobe! Now I can and will do a lot of shit of a friend, lend you £100 here and there, call in sick for you at work so that we can hit the clubs but I will not take a bullet for someone else so I flatly refused, stating that a) It had not been my fault and I hadn’t planned it and b) She damn well knew that I was in that wardrobe! Belinda wasn’t having this so she hurled a lot of abuse and I hurled my own abuse…….the phone was slammed down and that’s when I realised that Belinda and I were no longer friends. It’s been over 3 years now since this incident and I have done a lot of growing up since but sometimes I wonder what I was ever doing being an extra in a home-made porn movie!  I also live in constant fear of mama ever finding out the real reason Belinda and I are no longer friends. I guess the worst porn is live porn if you’re hiding in someone’s closet to watch it.


I hope the 3 people who read this blog are having an amazing week! I’m currently counting down the days to pay day……..and today it’s just 12!!!!! 






I’m Sending You This Four Paged Letter….


*Emotional Post Alert*

To Whom It May Concern…


I wasn’t going to write to you cause there was no point whatsoever in doing so. I mean if you never realized it back then you certainly won’t realize it now, even if I were to write it in blood and hang it on a 10 foot banner on the tallest building. I thought writing to you would be weakness on my part but I am not weak, in fact, I refuse to be weak and even though I am still not strong, I refuse to give in to my weakness. My friends said I should tell you (or write to you as I have chosen). They said that I owe it to myself. They said that only after I have poured out my heart to you……actually not just my heart but my pain too….would I be able to release my demons and be completely free and ready to move on. My friends reminded me that I had already moved on physically because I had managed to get up and walk and get on with my everyday activities but they also said that I had left my soul behind at that precise moment that you had broken and stamped on my heart and that I had to go back and pick up my heart even though it was all broken and in shreds – for it was mine and without it, I was restless! I was told that I was losing sense of the woman I am because a part of me was still trapped in the day my heart was shattered. My friends said that I needed to heal…..but I could not heal without being cured…..and I could not be cured until I got the right treatment…..but for me to get the right treatment I needed to know the source of my pain. They suggested that I go back to the source of my pain and face my demons so that I could to tell them to flee but for me to be able to do that I needed answers……and that is why I am writing you this Four Paged Letter.


I could be the bigger person and say I hope this letter finds you in good health but I really have no strength to pretend so I’ll just say it as it is. I don’t wish you well but neither do I wish you any harm, and if that makes me any less of a woman then I’m quite happy being a child. As I’m typing this, my heart feels what my lips cannot convey – I have so much I want to say to you but I just don’t know the words, I can only feel them. I have unanswered questions that only you can answer but the same questions I’d much rather have unanswered. I feel like a horse that was being groomed to compete in the races. Day by day the horse was trained and was made to work twice as hard and when the horse was finally ready for the races and fit enough to compete, the owner cut off its legs so that it wouldn’t compete. If you can understand this analogy then welcome to a fraction of my pain.


I loved you…..but please don’t ask if I still do because even I don’t know if that question even has any answers to it but right now, this hour, this very second  I feel more pain than love…..more hurt than disappointment and more hate than remorse. I am not hurt because you are no longer mine, Oh No, how can that be? How can I own what was never mine, what I never had? Even the Law states that ownership is 3/4 possession and I never possessed you, I thought I had but in reality, I never really. It’s not the fact that the relationship is over that hurts, it’s not even because I loved you or the timing was wrong….(you could have timed it better though, it had just been 3 weeks after I had lost a child – our child, something that we could have loved for the rest of our lives, someone who would have added meaning and enrichment to our existence)….What hurts is that I meant so little to you when you were my entire world. It hurts that you encouraged me to fall further deep in love with you only for you to crush me and walk all over the my suffocating heart without even paying my pain any attention. It hurts that you packed up your heart – which was already packed and belonging to somebody else and bolted out of my life.


When you were wondering what to do with your life, I supported you. I was there for you. I felt and shared in your pain when you were going through a rough time. I spoke to God about you more than I did about myself……I know it meant little to you, wasn’t much in your eyes but I did it anyway and I did it with my heart because I believed in you. I mean how could I not believe in you when you were the man that I loved? I wanted us to work despite it all – I breathed us, wanted and prayed for us to happen. You told me that we would be OK, that you wouldn’t give up on me and I believed you. I was doubtful at first but you assured me that even though things seemed confusing for the moment, you would sort it out and we would do just fine. I was scared but I took a leap of faith….or at least I thought I had. I had to, at least for once in my life give up myself to somebody wholeheartedly and risk it all for true love – an elusive emotion that I can’t even touch! I loved you…..and you knew that you were everything that I had hoped for, prayed for and that I had waited all my life for you. I supported you together with your dreams and aspirations, why wouldn’t you do the same for me?


What did I ever do to you that you felt you needed to hurt me like that? Did I mean so little to you that you never wished the best for me? I gave you my all and you at least owed me that. I put my life on the line to love you, I shifted my plans around to accommodate you (remember my move to the Midlands to be closer to my family and how it never happened because of you? Because all I wanted was to be close to you…) I have so many questions that only you can answer. I honestly believe that if you could treat me the way that you did then you honestly never cared, after all, love knows no spite. I remember how you told me that you loved me, I was your world – were those all lies? Did I ever, even for a second make a fleeting stop to your heart? When you said you’d always love me, flaws and all, were those just words? Why did you encourage me to fall in love when it never meant that much to you, WHY? It’s like you put a pavement beneath me to walk on and as I was starting to walk, you pulled that pavement from beneath me and caused me to fall into a deep hole. You took away the belief that I had in love and now love shall forever be tied to my heart breaking.


You might not have thought about it at the time…….it was never your problem, not your problem because I should have known better than to love someone to emotional bankruptcy but if you had truly loved me then the impact of my heart breaking wouldn’t have escaped you……you would have been man enough to apologize for it. You have probably moved on…..well, of course you have but I am not jealous. I will let you go because I love you…….I loved you and it’s the least I can do to prove my love to you. I thought I was your woman, I wanted to be your woman – your only woman, be all that you ever needed, all that you always wanted and I thought I was so why did you not owe me in the very least to tell me the truth? Why did you make me think that we could work through our relationship to where we wanted it to be…..but only for you to leave me with crushed hopes, dreams and a future instead.


I’m not questioning you why you did what you did……All I’m questioning is why you encouraged a hope of a future you knew would never exist and why you hurt me and never thought it OK to apologize. I want answers, not you but just straight forward answers.

I want you to be happy……..I want you to move on……..I want you to have laughter……..I want you to find true love and happiness……….I want you never to cry, to find contentment and to always be at peace but above all, I wish all the same for myself and that is why I got to…..have to……need to write you this four paged letter.


P/S – Sorry for the long post guys. It’s just I never post anything so personal and I wanted you my readers to relate to some of the pain that I’ve been through. There’s obviously 2 sides to every story……but here is mine, one that I suffered a heartbreak, the pain actually became physical.