Sorry, Monopoly. No offense, Barbie. Apologies, Mr. Potato Head.
Rubik's Cube (Getty Images)
The world's best-selling toy isn't a game, a doll or a spud: it's a humble arrangement of 26 cubes, invented by a Hungarian architecture professor back in 1974. In the 37 years since Erno Rubik first created his famous cube, it's sold over 350 million units, making the man himself a household name and propelling his cuboid conundrum into the history books. Although its three-dimensional nature makes it a tricky prospect for beginners, pros can solve it well under a minute. The world record? A mere 5.66 seconds.
Hard as that may be to believe, mathematicians have proved it's always possible to solve absolutely any cube arrangement, no matter how scrambled, in 20 moves or less. Deciding which 20 is the hard bit -- but we're here to help. Squaring up to the Cube
It's natural to think of the cube as having six faces, each with nine cubes. But don't. Instead, think of it as 26 cublets, grouped into three categories: centers, edges, and corners.
Centers have one colored side, and are fixed together by the cube's internal spindle. They can move around but can't swap places, and there are six of them, one per face. Get in the habit of thinking of these as fixed points that indicate the proper color for each face.
The twelve edge cubes have two sides and can be found in the middle of a face. Corners, meanwhile, have three sides, and there are eight of them -- four on the top, four on the bottom. Start at the beginning
There are lots of good methods for solving a Rubik's Cube, but some are easier than others. Most of the beginner-appropriate ones start the same way: solve the top face.
How? Pick a color (any color), and find the corresponding center cublet. Then move out the cublets that don't fit, and move in the ones that do. If you get one in the right place but with the wrong orientation, move it out and come back to it later. Once you're done, you'll have not only the top face one uniform color, but the top three cublets on each side face will also match; if not, you have an edge or corner in the wrong place. Go "through the keyhole"
Having solved one face, you're probably pretty reluctant to undo your good work. But sometimes you need to step backwards to move forwards, and that's the principle behind this handy tip.
After solving the top face, the standard next step is to tackle the bottom, opposite face. One good way to do that is to deliberately move an edge piece out from the already finished top, making a "keyhole." As you maneuver pieces to solve the bottom face, you'll find that if you move them through the keyhole each time, you won't disturb the rest of the top. Once you're done with the bottom, it's a simple matter to move the keyhole piece back into place. Develop your intuition
Stuck? That's not surprising. Once you've got the top and bottom faces down, matters get more difficult.
We suggest stopping there, rescrambling the cube, and starting over. Once you've gone from a complete cubescramble to a couple of finished sides, you'll have absorbed most of the principles and methods you'll need to finish up that elusive middle layer. But if you're still stuck, there are some great, step-by-steptutorials on the Web -- but be prepared to memorize some pretty complex move sequences. If you can hone your own intuition without detailed guides, you'll be a better solver. Don't forget: lube your Cube
Are your twists just not as smooth as you think they should be? Maybe your cube is running dry. Twist the top face through 45 degrees, and use a flat-bladed screwdriver to gently pry out one of the edge pieces. Spray a small amount of silicon-based lubricant -- available from your local home improvement store -- into the gap. Replace the edge piece, and give your cube a good scrambling. You should find it much smoother, and your solving times should plummet.
It was one of those typical Sundays. The year was 1992.
There were no afternoon preps on Sundays; we only had night preps, so there was plenty of time to fool around with.
Sunday lunch had been over a long time ago and the bell had just been rung for the protestant evening service. I was still lying on my double-bunk bed, deliberating on whether or not to jump down. In my school, if you were a Christian, you were either a catholic or a protestant. I was born Anglican, so that made me a protestant. The mode of service was very Pentecostal so it was a bit strange to me.
Chinyere came to my bunk from her bunk across my bed. She was tying her blue scarf and talking to me at the same time. “ Uloma won't you go for evening service? It’s time already”. I was never on time for any thing so it was good she reminded me. Chinyere and I had been classmates and best friends in primary school but she had left for secondary school after primary 5 while I stayed back to finish primary 6. That’s how come she was in Form 2 and I was in Form 1. By some stroke of fate we had wound up in the same dormitory and in the same apartment.
Clumsily I jumped down from my bed and picked up my blue beret from under my pillow. In my school we all slept in double bunks. The junior girls occupied the top bunks while the seniors occupied the lower bunks. Anyone you shared a bunk with was your ‘neighbour’ and if you were the junior one, you had to wash her clothes, fetch her water, make her bed, iron her clothes and clean the corner as well. In turn, if she was a kind senior, she would protect you from other seniors and watch your back. My neighbour, Senior Uche was a Form 5 girl who wore glasses. She was a Lagos girl and was very sociable. She knew lots of popular seniors. She didn’t bother me much except when I made her angry (which was rare by the way). I was a scruffy clumsy scrawny smallish junior girl and there were pleeenty of things to be angry with me about. Still she managed to put up with me somehow and she didn’t flog or beat me like other seniors did to their junior neighbors.
Anyway, other Protestants in our apartment were also getting ready for the evening service. I zipped my a-line cut day dress, and picked up my bible from my locker in front of my bunk., then we headed to Newest Dinning, where the protestant services were conducted. It was one of our dinning halls, but on Sundays, it served as a chapel for the Christian Protestants.
The praise/ worship session had already begun when we got to Newest Dining. One Senior Titilayo was leading the praise/ worship session. She was dark, slim and tall and wore dark rimmed glasses. Her day-dress was neatly ironed. There were sharp iron- lines at the edges of her gown. Her blue belt was also properly ironed and neatly tied in place. Somewhere behind her, was a big white banner with these inscriptions written in blue:
“Worship the Lord in the beauty of his holiness”.
She sang a popular chorus“ Clap your hands and praise the Lord, Hosanna, Hosanna to the Lord”.
Her voice was pleasant. She also had a way of rhyming her clapping with the rhythm of the song, in a manner that I found interesting. I loved the songs she sang and I enjoyed the praise worship session.
Soon it was over and it was time for the gospel. The preacher was Mr. Njoku, one of our teachers who taught Introductory Technology (Intro-Tech). He preached about hell and damnation and how we must repent from our sins or perish. He told us about rapture and the fact that one day, a trumpet would sound and good people would all disappear from the face of the earth at once. The bad ones would be left behind and the devil would torment them for many years, urging them to denounce Christ or be killed. There would be famine and weeping and gnashing of teeth.
I was terrified to my bone marrows. I had never heard of rapture and the thought terrified me. From what he said, it would happen soon because the end times were here already. Before now, I had heard lots of scary stories about how the world would end by the year 2000 and I didn't want to remember any of them.
“What if rapture occurs now?’ he continued, “Will you be called? Will you be raptured?”
I became scared again. I did not think I was qualified to be raptured because I knew I was a sinner. I still told lies. The other day, one of the Seniors in my apartment, Senior Akunna had asked me to fetch water for her and I had told her that I was sick with malaria. Because of that, I had gone to the clinic and made them give me drugs, so that she could see me take them the next morning, before I went to the dinning for breakfast. That was a terrible, terrible sin. Silently, I prayed to God to forgive me. I wondered if rapture would occur while I was in school or while I was at home on holidays. It would be better for rapture to occur while I was at home with my family. My last brother, Chinwike was still 3 years old and the last time I came home on holidays, he didn’t even recognize me, and that was painful. I still missed home terribly and I could not imagine what would happen if rapture occurred while I was away from home.
“Some of you are witches and members of devilish covens’ he continued.
“eh? Witches?” I thought. That was very scary.
He went on and talked about how some of us would fly by night and attend meetings in devilish covens so that they could suck the bloods of fellow girls and initiate them into mermaid covens.
Now I was frightened. Who were these witches? How would I recognize them? I wished I could just go home and then become a day student. It was just too much for me to swallow.
I didn’t listen to any other thing he said. I started to imagine how the witches would be disguised as one of my classmates who would offer me food and snacks and then by night, I would see myself flying to attend a mermaid meeting.
God forbid!! I resolved there and then that I would not collect any food or snacks from any girl I didn’t know.
“Now its time for alter call” was the next thing I heard. “If you know you would like to give your life to Christ, stand up on your feet. All eyes closed, all heads bowed”
What was an alter call? I thought. Suddenly a thought flashed through my mind.
“Yeehh!!” I thought. This must be a call for the witches to stand up and surrender their lives to God. No wonder Mr. Njoku asked everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes. Lai Lai, I wasn’t going to close any eyes or bow any head. I would see these witches for myself, one after the other. I would note their names, and if I ever came across them, I would make sure I had nothing to do with them.
“ Now if you’re standing on your feet, gently come forward so that we can pray together. All eyes still closed, heads still bowed” He continued.
This was getting more interesting. I watched with keen interest as the girls filed out one after the other. Their faces sober. There were many of them. I recognized most of the faces. Some were even Form 1 girls like me. Thankfully, I thought, none of them was in my class. I was very flabbergasted. I imagined them flying at night and sucking blood.
How could we have this many witches in our school?, I thought with fear. I made a mental note to write a letter to my mum tomorrow. I would beg her to allow me become a day student so that I could escape from all these witches.
I didn’t listen to any other thing that was said afterwords. I didn’t even understand the announcements that were made by the protestant prefect when the preacher finished. My imaginations were running wild. All I could think of were witches and mermaids and devilish covens. I had heard enough. But I would make sure I told my friends and my class girls too. They all had to be on the look out for these witches.
After the service came our sunday dinner. I had to go to New Dinning, where my table was, to eat my food. In my school, everyone was randomly shared in tables of 10. Sunday dinner was a meal of yam and fish stew. The stew was watery but it was sweet. I quietly ate my dinner , didn’t speak to anyone and once dinner was over, I ran to the tap behind the dinning hall, washed my plate and cutlery, put them in my bag and headed to my class for night prep; alone. Luckily for me, no seniors asked me to wash their plates, so I made it to my class in time for night prep.
During night prep, we all went to our classes to read our books and do our assignments. Each class had a Form 6 girl attached to their class as the prep prefect. Her job was to make sure that the girls read their books. Noise making and loitering were forbidden. I was in Form 1Y and our Prep Prefect was Senior Amarachi, a dark skinned, Form 6 girl. She was not a prefect but she was a good disciplinarian; strict when she needed to be, but generally friendly and kind hearted. We all liked her.
Unluckily for me, Senior Amarachi was already seated in front of the class by the time I arrived for night prep. That meant I could not have a few minutes of gossip with my class girls like I had intended to. I was eager to share what I had seen during evening service, but from the look of things, that was not going to happen.
I sat down quietly on my seat and tried to read my “Unoma at College”, but I couldn’t concentrate. I turned to my seat mate Chinonyerem to see if I could whisper something to her. She seemed engrossed in her Maths assignment and I couldn’t make eye contact. Chinonyerem and I had been in the same class in primary school. She had just gained admission to our school that term, having completed the first term in another school. She was still trying to adapt to the new environment and we had become close friends.
An idea occurred to me. I would write a note and tell her what I had seen. I tore a sheet from one of my ‘Zim Book” exercise books and I began to write:
“ During evening service today, the preacher asked all the witches to stand up so that he could pray for them to be saved. Many people stood up, including some seniors that I know. I can write their names for you”.
Then quietly, I placed the note on her locker. She looked up at me, and then opened the note to read. I saw the look of alarm on her face and then I saw her tear out a sheet of paper from one of her exercise books.
Just then, the girl sitting beside her saw our exchange and became curious. Her name was Ezinne. She was light skinned and very pretty. I watched her write a note and send to Chinonyerem. Chinonyerem read her note and then sent her the note I had written. I watched Ezinne read the note and I saw she was shocked as well. Who wouldn’t be? Ezinne also tore out a sheet of paper from one of her exercise books and began to write. Before she did that, she passed the note to a girl sitting beside her. Her name was Olisa. By the time I knew it, the note started to move from one hand to the other until I lost track of who had it. By that time, little noises had started to build up from different corners of the classroom.
Then Chinonyerem dropped a note on my locker. It was from Ezinne and it read:
“Please oh, I’m scared. Please write the names of the witches you saw so that I’ll know who not to trust”
Of course I had to write the names. I wanted them to take precautions as well. I began to write down the names of the people I had seen.
1. Seniour Ijeoma in Blue House……
I wrote down about 10 names or so and sent it to Ezinne and Chinonyerem. By the time I knew it, the notes had started moving round the class. There were more murmurs. The classroom had begun to get noisy.
Suddenly I heard Senior Amarachi’s voice. Before that time, two of her friends had come to join her in our class and they had all been reading together.
“ Ezinne ! stand up!!”.
Wow! I thought. I didn’t bargain for this part.
“Bring all those notes u have been passing round the class. “Now!!” She shouted.
Suddenly, the noise and murmurs stopped. I wished the ground would swallow me. Ezinne stood up.
“ Senior Amarachi, Uloma wrote a note”. She said quietly. “She said some witches came for evening service”.
“What!!” Senior Amaraci shouted. Which evening service? Uloma Emenyonu!! Will you come out here!!”
Slowly I got up from my seat and sluggishly went to meet her in from of the class.
“Answer me Uloma’ she continued. “What witches came for evening service? And before I continue, if you know you have any of those notes in this class, bring them forward”
Two girls came forward and gave her the notes we had been passing round. I was scared. I wanted my friends to know who the witches were but I did not know how to explain my actions to Senior Amarachi. Besides, Mr. Njoku had asked everyone to close their eyes and I hadn’t closed mine. I was not supposed to see the witches when they came out.
I watched Senior Amarachi as she read the notes. At first she appeared shocked. And then she began to laugh. Then she passed the notes to her 2 friends.
“Chinekem eh!” shouted one of them. Her name was Senior Ugomma. “Uloma or whatever you call yourself, is this how you spread rumours??
Rumours? I was confused. Senior Amarachi looked at me. She had stopped laughing. “Common decrease your height!” she shouted. “Kneel down!”
Tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. I was only trying to protect my friends. I tried to speak and the seniors shut me up.
“Mr Njoku asked people to stand up and give their lives to Christ and all you could do was to call them witches” Senior Amarachi shouted.
“No Senior” I spoke for the first time. “He was preaching about witches and mermaids and when he finished, he asked for all those who were witches to stand up so that he could pray for them”
“Heeeyyy!!!” The third senior screamed. I didn’t know her name. “ Common shut up!! Don’t you know what an alter call is?”
“ No senior” I replied timidly.
The whole class burst out with laughter. I could hear more murmurs and giggles from different parts of the class. I was more confused. I also felt miserable.
“Will you guys stop making noise!!” Senior Amarachi shouted.
Suddenly the noise stopped. “And look at the names you even wrote” she Continued.
“ Ijeoma, Ifeoma, Taiwo, …you’re not even afraid. I’m going to punish you and teach you a lesson. Next time, you’ll know better than to spread rumours.”
“ Senior Amarachi please I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”. I cried.
The tears flowed freely from my eyes. I knelt down in front of the class while everyone else read their books. The noise had stopped and everywhere was quiet. Occasionally Chinonyerem would look up from her books and look at me wit pity. I was sad and depressed. At times like this, I hated the boarding house, hated F.G.G.C Owerri, hated seniors. I just wanted to go home!!.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve been fighting with my weight since I was 16. And that means that I spent most of my adolescent years and all my adult life, cutting out sugars, ice creams, dairy products, chocolates, pastries, etc.
I remember that while I was growing up and I had to go on dates, the guys seemed to look at me funny when instead of asking for the usual meat pie/ sausage roll/ doughnuts and drinks, I would ask for salad, fish and water. While my friends relished their ice creams, chocolates, pastries and all those goodies, I went for all the bitter tasteless ones. Not so interesting if u ask me.
And you know what beats me? I’ve never really gotten it. I’ve been a UK size 12 for the past one and half years or more. Luckily, I even came down from UK size 16 to 14, before I got stuck on 12. I’ve been trying to cut it down to 10 for the past one year but that just hasn’t worked. Recently, I started to notice signs of small bulges here and there and for me that meant more weeks of strict dieting, detox, workouts, etc.
I’m sure my story is not strange to most women. Since the early 90s, our society has changed the SI unit for measuring beauty and sexiness from the usual rounded African- beauty standard, to the Angelina Jolie -skinny looks.
And that’s why we have outfits like the short skirts, pencil jeans, shorts, tight dresses and the like. To make matters worse, all our men watch TV, are on facebook, twitter, and other social networking sites and so the ideal woman has to have a body like Kim Kardashian, or JLO, or (let’s come back home) Omotola Jalade. It also doesn’t really matter if u’ve had a child or 2, because, so have Omotola Jalade and J.Lo (ouch!).
Hey I know someone is going to say stuff like “Beauty comes from within” and “It doesn’t matter if you’re fat or slim, you have to accept yourself the way you are”. We know all that. But the reality of the situation is: it does feel good to be slim and gorgeous. There’s an added self confidence that comes from knowing that you’re slim and fit.
And so I’ve had to ask myself: “For how long are women supposed to fight the weight battle?”
Seems like a life sentence if you ask me. So, I think the answer to that question is “Forever” (yikes!!!).
Or what do you guys think? Can a woman ever completely lose weight and stay in shape forever?
1. Letters: I miss the days of writing letters. Those days you had to write your friend or loved one, it would take weeks to get to the person; sometimes they were never even delivered. The funniest one was if you had to write your friend or loved one who lived in the US or UK, that took about 3 months or so, and then before you received the person’s reply, it would be another 3 months.
If you were in the boarding house like me, it was BIG deal to receive a letter. It meant you were special.
The best were the love letters. How I used to love getting them nice love letters, especially if it was from a toaster I liked. I would read them over and over again and then keep them safely stuffed somewhere. Again, if you were in a boarding school like me, it was big deal if the letters were ever found by nosy friends. In my school then, those chics would read them in front of the whole class and people would either jeer at you, or secretly wish they were you.
I miss those days, when we used to ‘tap’ people’s stamps, so we could use them to write letters. We even used to go as far as trying to re-use old stamps. We would carefully use an eraser to wipe out the black marks on the stamp; and trust good old NIPOST, those letters never got delivered.
2. Birthday Cards: I don’t remember the last time someone sent me a card for my birthday. Thanks to text messages, and phone calls, those gestures have gone extinct. Now, with facebook? Forget it. And don’t flatter yourself by thinking that your friends all remembered your birthday. If not for facebook birthday notifications, trust me, you wouldn’t have been such a celebrity on your birthday. I really really miss birthday cards and those days i used to just spread them out on my dressing table, or hang them in my room, then when the month was over, i would keep them somewhere safe so that my friends could see them when they came over.
3. The days of “no-cell phones”: Believe it or not, there were times we had no cell phones. Those days that you could set out to visit a friend without knowing if he or she was in town. Sometimes you would wait at the person’s house for hours, without knowing that he or she was just next door.
It was worse when you travelled all the way from the east to visit your friend or relative in Lagos, only to find out that they had moved house, or that they travelled.Those days were sweet believe me.
Now with GSM, we know this can never happen, but still, we miss those days
4.Making international calls through NITEL
Do you remember the time we used to depend on NITEL for our international calls? Those days if you ever ventured to use your NITEL line at home to make international calls, your parents would hear “nwi”. The NITEL bill for that month would be enough to pay school fees for you and all your siblings for a term and your father would still have change to buy your mother a new wrapper.
If you wanted to make an international call, you had to go to NITEL, and buy a call card of ‘God knows how much”. This call card entitled you to about 4 to 5 minutes of airtime. Then, you had to stand on one long queue, longer than a traditional BRT queue from Oshodi to CMS on a Monday morning. And then when it got to your turn, you had to speak, and then wait for the person on the other side to hear it, before you could now speak again. Tough one I tell you, but I do miss those days all the same.
5. Making Local Calls with NITEL
Who remembers this line: “ All trunks are busy, please call again later”, and then the dial tone would be gone. Those were the days of land lines. And mind you, not all of us had land lines. Some of us used to go to our neighbor’s houses/ offices, or father’s offices to receive phone calls. Then, your caller would call and someone would come to the house to tell you when next the caller would call again. And then, you would abandon any prior plans and go to venue of the call to sit by the phone.
If you had mischievous people around you, they would use another phone within the house and tap your phone calls. Funny what we put up with, but I loved it.
6. The days of Tally Banking
There was a time visiting the bank was a whole day’s job. If you ever had cause to visit a bank, it would be good not to make any other plans for that day. The Banking halls were always filled with an average of 30-100 people ( I might be exaggerating here). You would be given a tally and then you would wait for the whole day for your turn. Most times, your turn would come just as the cashier wanted to go for lunch; and that lunch usually took hours. By the time you finished from the bank, you would be hungry and very very tired.
7. The Type writer:
I don’t remember the last time I saw any of those noise makers of those days; the type writer. Where if you finished typing a line, you had to shift it back. Those of us who studied Business studies during our J.S.S days had to learn how to use it. Woe betide you if you made a mistake. You had to look for Tipex to clean it off, or you would start all over again. Then if you wanted to make more copies, you would place a carbon paper underneath your paper and put another paper. Most times they never came out clear. But we loved them all the same
The last time i tried to use a typewriter, my wrists nearly broke from punching those keys so hard.
We're so used to the computer now, but i still miss the things of old
There are so many more that i don't remember, but i do miss those days a great deal. i'm sure you miss them too
This is a true life story, and the young man is in dire need of answers..
My girlfriend Dupe and I started dating a little over two years ago.
I already knew about her before we began to date;the whole town knew about her. Dupe is the average, modern, rich classy young woman; ambitious, beautiful, sassy, classy, with all the pomp and pagenatry that comes with class.
I on the other hand, am just an ordinary fellow. With lots of dreams, basically, still coming up.
I used to believe a lot in myself before I met Dupe. Everyone loved me, everyone thought I was nice, bright , caring and all, and everyone felt I would make any girl the best husband on earth. i thought so too, but that was before; not now. .
The first day I met Dupe, i directly approached her and told her that i wanted to date her. She was surprised that i was that direct, but some how, within a space of one month, we began to seriously date.
At first i was really happy. She made me believe a lot in myself; she was eager to let me into her life and she told me a whole lot about herself. We were happy and we had lots of laughter.
But within a space of 4 months everything changed. Dupe became cold and very abusive. She would pick the slightest fault in anything I did. Nothing i did was ever good enough. If it was not my style of driving, it was the way I wore my tie, or the color of T-shirt I had on. Very little things that i considered irrelevant.More surprising was the fact that sometimes, just sometimes, she would hug me and tell me how nice I was, and how very caring and selfless I was. Those little moments made me happy, but they didn't last. In fact, sometimes, i wondered if it was the same woman who praised me in that manner, that also criticized me like no one else had ever done. It really feels like a ride on a roller coaster.
I tried as much as possible to be the proper boyfriend. i try to be there for her, to listen to her when she's down, and all those nice things, we've been taught to do as gentlemen. Sometimes she notices, some times she doesn't. The few times she does, she just compliments me so much that I almost start to think of her as nice;almost. And then sometimes, she would quietly ask me if i thought she was mean. Those times, i would tell her my mind, and then I would be optimistic that things would change. They actually did, but just for a while.
One year into the relationship, she called me one day and told me that she wasn't happy, and that she had considered breaking up. Because I loved her, I begged her to stay. i told her that we could work things out and that i was ready to work on my faults. she seemed satisfied and we went back to our usual roller coaster. What agonizes me most is that Dupe is also this nasty to all her friends and family, but they seem to be okay with her capriciousness. it just makes me wonder if I am the one who is actually not tolerant, or maybe she's not as nasty as I make her appear
However, things took a different turn last month when i met Kemi. Kemi is a colleague whom I've known for a while and we've become good friends. But lately, I started to notice her beauty, and the fact that she's polite and nice to talk with and all that. I have only known Kemi for about three months, so i honestly can't say that I know her too deeply. Kemi on the other hand, is also attracted to me, and one day, while we had lunch together, she bluntly told me that and also told me that if given a chance, would like to date me
Now here's our hurdle. I made up my mind to leave Dupe and my plan was that we would break up by next month. I also indicated to Kemi that I wanted to take the chance and start a new relationship with her. This plan looked beautiful till yesterday.
Before now, i had this nice plot of land that i desperately wanted to buy. the price was a bit on the high and I had sought for a loan from my bank to buy it to no avail. And alas, Dupe told me yesterday, that she came up with some money and wanted to buy the land for me.
Gentlemen and Ladies, this is my challenge. Do I allow Dupe to pay for this land, only to break up with her by next month, or do I reject the offer, and start a new relationship with Kemi who I barely know?
I_______________________, the undersigned female partner
(herein referred to as the "screwee"), about to enjoy sexual intercourse
with _______________ (hereafter referred to as the "screwer"), hereby declare as follows:
1. THAT I am above the lawful age of consent.
2. THAT I am not under the influence of any narcotic substance(s).
3. THAT the aforementioned screwer did not use any force, threats, coercion or promises to influence me.
4. THAT I, the screwee, am in no fear of him whatsoever.
Z
5. THAT I do not expect or wish to marry him
6. THAT I do not know if he is married or not and I do not care.
7. THAT I am neither asleep nor drunk
8. THAT I am entering this relationship with him because I love it and want it as much as he does.
9. THAT in the event that I receive full and 'delicious' satisfaction, which I expect, declare in advance, the capacity and willingness for further participation as soon as time permits.
10. THAT I will not act as a witness against him nor will I file charges against him in the event that:
10.1 I contract a sexual disease
10.2 I fall pregnant
10.3. I feel that he is violating any legislation - moral, legal or otherwise.
SIGNED BEFORE JUMPING INTO BED THIS _______ DAY OF (MONTH)____________
(YEAR) ___________ AT ___________________
Signature of screwee : ______________
Please fill the above form and return to me before friday night
I got this from one of those Blackberry broadcasts and made a few additions too. Have a good read:
1. Windows XP was released TEN years ago, in 2001.
2. The “new” Millennium is more than a decade old.
3. Pierce Brosnan last acted as James Bond 9 years ago.
4. It’s been 10 years since 9/11
5. The Matrix came out 12 years ago, Keanu Reeves is 46 today
6. Mother Theresa and Lady Diana have been dead for 14 years.
7. Macaulay Culkin is 30 today. “Home Alone” came out over 20 years ago.
8. Terminator 2 is 20 years old. Edward Furlong who portrayed kid John Connor is 33 now.
9. Sean Connery is 80 years old and retired.
10. The youngest Spice Girl is 35, the oldest Backstreet Boy 39, Gwen Stefani is 41, Madonna 52and Oh, the sultry actress, Sharon Stone is now 53 years old
11. The first Harry Potter book came out 14 years ago!
12. The first season of F.R.I.E.N.D.S was aired 17 years ago!
13. ‘Kids’ born in 1993 can legally drive, drink and vote this year.In case you don't remember, that's the year Toni Braxton released her hit song "Breathe Again"
14. Jurassic Park is older than Justin Bieber.
15. Bryan Adams’ cult song “Summer of 69″ was released 26 years ago.
16. Kids whom you remember in their diapers posting their pics on Facebook.
17. Facebook has been around for 7 years.
18. Tupac Shakur has been dead for 15 years,and guess what? he's really dead.
19. Puff Daddy and Jlo's relationship ended 11 years ago
20.Gen Sani Abacha died 13 years ago
21. Arnold Schwarzenegger will be 64 Years old in July. The movie, Total recall was acted 21 years ago; Sylvester Stallone will be 65 years in July, Rambo, First Blood part 1 was acted 29 years ago.
22. The Indian Movie, Amar Akbar Anthony, was released in 1979, 32 years ago
23. Sisquo's Thong Song was released 12 years ago, Unleash the dragon was released 11 years ago. Shaggy's "It wasnt me" was released 10 years ago.
So when J.lo says " its a new generation of party people " she is NOT referring to u
I met him sitting at the corner of the bus park;in bathroom slippers
He packed his wares beside him, and by 'wares' I speak of a pack of plantain chips. Honestly if I summed them all up,and sold them all, the money I would get from the sale would not be enough to buy my makeup.
I watched him bring out his N50 scotched egg.That was all he had for breakfast.He made the sign of the cross and prayed over it,like it was some princely breakfast.
He could not have been more than 12 years old,it was a Monday morning,everyone else was at school
Instead all he had was his bag of Plantain chips,the large rosary bead on his neck and the heat rashes on his skin.
My heart went out to him. Slowly, and unsure of how he would react, I walked up to him and handed him a N500 note from my wallet. I could tell that it looked like a million dollars to him. With a shy smile, he said thank you, and then got up to show the money to his older brother,(I assumed so), sitting at a corner, not far from him.I could tell he sought permission to spend the money.
I was a bit scared myself .(This is Lagos, and no one helps strangers without an ulterior motive).My eyes begged not to be misread. I remembered the ankle chain on my left ankle and prayed that they would not think I was some agent of mermaid spirits looking for whom to initiate into some devilish coven. In our part of the world,that's the way people think..
Sometimes I like to pretend that these people are not there.But they're everywhere,especially in the marketplace and at the bus parks;
Children sprawling on the floor,with dirty bodies, dirty clothes, hair made bald by ringworm;
Others loitered at the bus parks, being mentored by bus conductors and bus drivers.Soon they would grow up to be like them
By age 40,they would be washed out,by weed , dry gin loose women and poor food.Some of them would take to the high way,with cold blooded eyes and not a care in the world.
The mothers,shabby and unkempt,had yellow teeth and skin shriveled by the sun,or local coarse skin-bleaching creams. Ignorance and poverty turned them into shadows of what they might have been in the past.
Their fathers,(if they ever existed) would have given up on life.With large eye glasses,torn bibles, washed out clothes, bitter hearts and numerous ailments.Having spent their lives dreaming and hoping that someday, things would get better,only to realize one day that the life was almost over.
Yet I relax and dream of millions;ogling at pictures of Mark Zuckerberg and Warren Buffet and Oprah Winfrey.Watching Kimora Lee Simmons and all the Kadarshian vanities ;ogling at their fancy designer clothes, shoes and bags; or dreaming (like I love to do), about one day when I would live in one of those big mansions that I always fantasized about; Food and clothing were no longer a problem to me.I had so much to eat that I sought ways to get them out of my system.So I drank spicy teas with tasteless milk and sweeteners. In the evenings I would go the gym and seek for ways to sweat. That way, I could get rid of all the food I had consumed. (as if someone forced me to eat them in the first place).
Kim who? Kardashian what?and what in the world were Gucci and Luis Vuitton? These people I speak of have never even heard of those names.All they have ever asked of from life is to be able to eat some food , have a decent place to sleep, and ( for those of them who had some sense) get basic education at least.
These people are everywhere and they too are part of the world we live in.So much so that I'm starting to think that they are in the majority,
As I looked at my small friend with his bag of Plantain Chips, and his N50 breakfast, that Monday morning, all I could ask myself was " What have I really done to deserve the life that I've been blessed with?"
I have been writing ever since I can remember. I'm no Chimamanda Adiche, I know, but I do love to write.
Overtime I have filled my facebook page with stories and jokes and shared with my friends. Now I think its time to create a blog of my own where I can share my thoughts with my friends. You know we can all have fun, have a good laugh, or have something or the other to dwell our thoughts on, for the day.
Like I said before, I am still no Chimamanda adiche, I'm just a young woman expressing herself, but I do hope you'll learn a thing or two.
This picture was taken during my final year in FGGC Owerri
