Lessons Worth Learning…

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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…..like 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!

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Home-Made Porn……Under The Influence!

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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….

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*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.

 

 

 

 

 

Of Cheating Husbands and Friendships..

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So my life lately has been very hectic, loads of shocking, interesting, jaw dropping, emotional, sexy stuff to write about but I live in great fear of mama ever finding out about this blog (in which case this blog would need to come down at the speed of light). Anyway, about my last relationship, this son of a bitch my ex-boyfriend cheated on me so much, most I never discovered until we were already broken up! I was so naive thinking I was wifey material and he’d marry me one day but obviously my mugu self was so blinded by love, I didn’t see him sticking his D in every female he came across. I really hope his dick falls off……….OK that is mean, the man needs his dick lol so I’ll rephrase and say I hope it almost falls off. That’s actually better and makes me look less of an evil person lol. I am not angry or bitter, I promise……..as a matter of fact, why am I still talking about him? I don’t necessarily like to reminisce about some of my biggest mistakes so let’s move on to other issues.

 

On today’s post……my very good friend and gossip partner phoned and told me that our mutual friend’s husband was cheating on her. The infidel!!!!! Hehe! I’ve always wanted to use that word in a non-terrorist phrase lol! Anyway, the infidel is banging their neighbour! Wonders shall never cease, I mean it’s so cliché. You should see this neighbour too, innocent looking woman who sings in her church choir and is always running errands for the church. It was just so unbelievable to hear! I mean her, the lady! Married and with kids too! The devil really has been working without rest! Anyway, my gossip partner and I are gisting when I ask if our mutual friend knows and she replies NO! Arrrrrrrrrghhhhh!!! See the panic that attacked my heart! I was like so why are you telling me!!? I have now entered the “she knew my husband was cheating on me and didn’t tell me” camp! I wasn’t liking this at all, I really wished I had been the last person in the world to know cause it really put me in a position I’d rather not have been in! My gossip partner and I  both decided that I didn’t know anything about this situation and threatened to drown her in acid if she ever mentioned my name.

 

Why am I choosing to distance myself from this drama? Well, here are a few reasons:

Husband has cheated before. She found out. She still stayed. She stopped speaking to the people who had informed her of this gist……and I don’t wanna end up like them, a statistic in friendships that ended badly lol.

He is always working late, having drinks with friends, family meetings……the list goes on and on but when it comes to her all of a sudden he is too tired, too busy.

He is always insulting her, even in my presence and that of other friends. She still stays. He calls her ignorant names like fat and girlfriend gets upset. He knows it upsets her but he still does it. Girlfriend isn’t even fat but does she stand up for herself? Hell NO. It pisses me off. Makes me wanna get violent with sharp objects.

This is just skimming the surface. Believe me, I can go on all day.

 

Girlfriend calls this morning and says she’s feeling sad. She complains about her husband and I listen cause that’s all I can do. I don’t want to give her the wrong advice but at the same time I feel like I should say something. I don’t know anything about marriage. I know nothing about what happens after the dancing at the reception and eating all the festive food. I have no clue on sharing a bed with a man for the rest of my life. I’m really in no position to judge so I won’t……..but I’ve had boyfriends even just men after me who have treated me better than girlfriend’s husband does to her. I just want to ask, is it all worth it staying in such a situation? Why? Why do people have such disregard for the feelings of others? Why is the world so full of cold, inconsiderate people who do nothing but steal joy, crush hearts and steal spirits? My heart breaks! Marriage is meant to be the reward of successful dating, not a slow death to one’s worth and esteem.

 

What do you guys think? Should I say something? What about you, how would you deal with my current dilemma? Help a sister out!

 

I’m blogging on my phone and it’s tiring!

 

Arghhhh…….here comes the mail guy. God, he is so hot! I’d love to tap that ass…….grrrrrrr! Maybe he should tap mine instead! Enjoy whatever you’re doing peeps! To my new followers, this update is for you……xxx

That Nigerian Man Will Never Marry You: A Warning To Non-Nigerian Women…

So lately, my own relationship or rather, situationship has been making me feel a bit insecure, reason being a lot of people have come up to me and said things like my man would never marry me as I am foreign. I’ve also been told that I have “White Girl” tendencies and as such, a Nigerian man might be turned off. I honestly don’t know what White Girl tendencies are so please, if any of you do know, educate me in the comments section lol! Anyway, hearing all this and being me and paranoid, I’ve gone in search of Internet advice lol and here’s what I found, an entire article to confirm why he’d end up with his own!! My dear readers, I’m heartbroken but laughing all the way. Marriage is something that I want someday and something I’m vocal about in my relationships, obviously not in a marry me tomorrow kind of vocal but I do make it known that it’s important to me and therefore a part of my plan. My boyfriend obviously knows this and so far, we’ve been very par! The article is witty and gives a different perspective and even escalates my insecurities about marriage, however, because I realise a relationship is between 2 people with a mutual love and respect, will focus more on that rather than the universal notion.

Please enjoy as much as I did 🙂

PS – Have any of you dated or been with a Nigerian man before? Leave your experiences in the comments section. You know me, I love gist!

The Deal

GUEST POST
Source: http://vibeweekly.com/features/1030-that-nigerian-man-will-never-marry-you-a-warning-to-east-african-women.html

Wednesday, 24 April 2013 12

@Professor Flibbertigibbet
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PHOTO:NAIRAFORM

It seems that dating Nigerian men has quickly become a trend in East Africa. The ‘show me your Oga I show you mine’ syndrome has rapidly spread and these men have even replaced the white man preference. But what many women don’t know is that they will wine, dine and fuck you but never marry you.

I spent a few weeks in Nigeria early this year and the picture I got from them- people behave differently when in their original environment- was rather different. Nigerians tend to avoid contact with foreigners, especially their women. It’s only ashawos that date white men or men from other cultures- did I say date? Sorry, sell is more like it. Your average girl next door Nigerian woman will not even look at foreigner so this creates an unfair advantage for the Nigerian…

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How To Date A Married Man….And Other Bad Advice!

 If you must sleep with a married man……..then make it worth your while!

This is probably a very controversial topic and I know a lot of you will come at me with sticks, stones, cutlery etc but still, I’ve got to talk about it. You know what they say about the freedom of speech and expression lol.  Anyway, I am not endorsing sleeping with married men, of course not (but then again, I’m a supporter of whatever floats your boat but in this case, let me not mention that lol)…..anyway, the reality is that a lot of ladies out there are sleeping with married men, either knowingly or without knowledge and for those sleeping with married men, what’s the reason if not for personal gain?

 

OK, let me give a bit of background here…..I have never dated a married man before, even though I’ve been a side chick lol, don’t know if that counts…..but I have had friends date married men and me being the trustworthy friend that I am, was entrusted to keep these dirty little secrets. I was so good at keeping these secrets such that I was occasionally rewarded in sharing in the benefits of sleeping with these married men. I mean some of my best fine dining experiences were through these incidents – and no, I don’t just mean eating out at restaurants, I’m talking private dining at Gordon Ramsay’s London restaurant but really, that’s a story for another day. I have also witnessed first hand how my friends…..or rather friend went from being an average ZARA/Forever 21 girl to wearing Versace, Gucci etc. As a matter of fact, I witnessed my first ever Louboutin in the flesh on this girl’s feet! No lie, at that time, I had a slight headache just trying to comprehend the price!!

 

Okay, back on topic…….so why am I writing on this? A few days ago, a friend confided in me that one of the top managers in her workplace was interested in her. She then said, Oh Felly, he’s so good looking and I’m so into him and I’m considering giving in. At this point, I honestly thought the man in question was as single as my friend was so had to ask where the hesitation was coming from……..she then said, OH, he is married! After recovering from the shock and picking my jaw from the floor, I had to ask if she had lost her mind to even consider a married man’s advances but she went into this long story of how she was just fed up of single guys and their games and how it amounted to sleeping with them all for nothing; which hurt even more when a single man messed you around as you would have had hopes, dreams etc of a future with him. However, she conveniently forgot that there are far higher chances of having something meaningful with a single man than with somebody else’s husband!

 

You judgmental people are probably wondering why I am still friends with a potential homewrecker but this is the thing about friendship, you can’t just abandon it because one has decided to give into the advances of a married man, nah, that would be stupid! Personally, I’m the kind of friend who is unbothered by what you do, so long you remain loyal to me as your friend, have my back and adhere to the rules set out by the friendship manual; therefore my inability to deter my friend to abandon her missions literally had no implications on the future of our friendship. I still had to ask my friend though what was in it for her and if he was gonna help her start up her business etc and she was like, NO, I don’t intend on asking him for favours lest he thinks that I’m a prostitute! HELLO!!!!!!!!! Should you give a damn what he thinks? And for him to be married, probably happily too and to still make advances at you means that he’s willing to pay his way through, so why would you let him get away with free cookies? (Disclaimer: This is my very unpopular opinion and in case mhamha is lurking on WordPress and gets to read this, this particular post would need to come down at the speed of light…….also, I am not encouraging prostitution, it was just a thought, like a very, very random thought lol). My friend also stated that she wasn’t in it for the financial gain, however the attention and company whilst still maintaining her money, independence, time and freedom without the married man making a claim on them. Honestly, I’m vexed, I just don’t know!

 

In my own opinion, it makes no difference at all, if a woman decides to sleep with a married man then she must be gaining something preferably material from him because there can never be emotional gain. I mean why let the man win both ways? If he wants a mistress then let him pay for her. It makes you no prostitute as long as you’re not putting out many men at the same time in exchange for personal gain, although perhaps there could be some self-esteem, worth issues sleeping with a married man in the first instance. But really ladies, put a price on it if you decide not to hoard your goods.

 

Another Disclaimer: I still don’t endorse sleeping with married men. Single men can be a lot to handle but at least you’re guaranteed what you really need if you happen to find the right fish for you. Dating is hard……but the proof is in those who successfully do it to end up with the love of their lives. Wouldn’t that be nice.

Happy Saturday my blog readers (yes, you 3 people who read my blog, I greatly appreciate you 🙂

Sins That Almost Sent Me To An Early Grave…

beating

 

Happy New Year everyone. Long overdue but at least I have said it. Remember, it’s the thought that counts.  Anyway, several things have happened to me, some of which are life changing but too boring to blog about and some that I could blog about but at the risk of a Defamation of Character civil suit which I’d rather avoid. I was actually going to blog about recent developments in my love life….or lack thereof but since I’m still trying to make sense of that situation, I’ll leave it for my next blog post but I’m telling you, my spirit is in oneness with the nuns and all those who dedicate their lives to love of God and no other. I’ve been taught lessons for life. Anyway, I figured I’d confess my sins instead and the times mama danced dangerously on the brink of culpable homicide in an effortless fashion to get me on the straight and narrow. So here goes my 10 honest sins and their subsequent consequences. Enjoy.

 

1. My mother almost killed me for playing with a condom I had found in my brother’s bedroom. She kept screaming, ‘Show me where it goes….’ whilst beating the living daylights out of me. I became permanently scarred such that even in my adulthood, my heart is almost leaping out of my chest buying condoms in case mama jumps from behind the counter and asks for Show and Tell of where it goes!

2. I once ‘shared’ a man with my cousin as she was not convinced that a certain guy was an expert at handling a woman so I agreed to let her experience it for herself! Big mistake, sisi delivered the news to mama as soon as she arrived home from work who then proceeded to shambock us for trying to run a prostitution ring in her yard!

3. Whilst on holiday at my grandparents, I wrote a letter to my dad bitterly complaining of my grandmother’s alleged (false) cruel treatment of me. All I was hoping for was for my parents to then collect me back to the city but No, my mother decided to drive all the way from Norton to Gokwe with the letter and forced me to read it out loud in front of my grandparents and several other people. And in true domestic violence fashion, disciplined me for lying and decided to leave me in Gokwe for the during of the holiday. The treatment became accurately cruel(and not false) for the duration of that holiday.

4.  I was nearly expelled from Primary School for writing explicit letters with hand drawn pornographic images. My mother has never forgotten this and she tattooed scars all over my body with her trademark weapon of choice – shamhu yemuHabrose!

5. I once got my mother to fire a new maid because she had too many pimples on her face and I refused to eat what she cooked. My father concerned that I was not eating, got mama to fire the house girl. My mother disciplined me in my father’s absence for being shallow and turned me into the maid for the remainder of the school holidays.

6. I was once chucked out of our local church together with my cousin for being inappropriately dressed. Apparently, our skirts were just not the recommended length for a place of worship. Word obviously got back to my mother who took upon the task of clearing out our wardrobes and throwing away anything that was above the knees. In simpler terms, she left us with no clothes that were not trousers, maJuzi and school uniforms.

7. When still in Junior School, I was so ashamed of an uncle of mine (he had a long beard and had just come from the village) whom my parents had assigned the role of dropping me off at school and picking me up. So I lied to this uncle of mine that adults were not allowed on school premises and that he had to drop me just at the corner. The school then sent my mother a letter demanding to know why I was showing up at school unaccompanied as it was against school policy. My mother after questioning my uncle and realising what I had done, almost sent me to an early grave for being ashamed of my relatives.

8. Mama once made my sister and I choke on eat an entire pot of rice (nearly to death) for her entertainment (not strictly true but painfully accurate). We had gone to our neighbors house and ate our dinner there because it was chicken and rice and we were sick of the Vegetarian (Sabbath) Saturdays. When we got back home, my mother cooked a massive portion of rice and chicken for my sister and I and forced us to finish it all otherwise we would really know who she was. She still beat us up for making the neighbors think that she starved us!

9. My mother once made my cousin and I (same cousin from sharing a man and expelled from church) spend 4 hours outside our front gate in a hailstorm for dodging church and going for lunch with guys at the same Chicken Inn someone who knew her happened to be.  After being made to chill for 4 hours in the cold rain, she still walloped us for not respecting the Sabbath and keeping it holy!

10. My brother who was 7 at the time once got me at age 10 to electrocute myself on a socket claiming that it would feel nice. My mother in an effortless fashion, tattooed his behind, his face and his back screaming ‘is this nice’ over and over again. She then disciplined me for being foolish enough at 10 to listen to a 7 year old boy and almost killing myself in the process.

 

 

Now that confession time is over and it’s been made known that I have done a lot of maturing since, why not turn this into a “TAG” continuation?  The rules are simple, Tag at least 4 bloggers to do posts about random, less serious facts about themselves. It could be sins, childhood memories or the “I Bet You Didn’t Know I Could…..” kinda posts. Keep it interesting folks. I love a good read! 🙂

I’m tagging  joymandabunnyvuAmanya and Hazvinei.

 

 

P/S – I was NOT abused as a child you guys. The disclaimer is there just in case my mum ends up in prison for child neglect and on various child abuse charges allegedly committed in the 90’s LOL. Instead, I was provided with a safe, fulfilling, nurturing and loving home  which made my dreams and come true in my wildest imaginations. I thank God for my mother and I do, with all of my heart love and adore her!

 

Hope 2016 has been great for everyone so far!

** this post was edited to reflect TAGGED on 2/05/2016**