Posts by Osas

There’s still a little bit of hope to hold on to.

Have you ever had a “God, shey me and you dey fight?” moment?

No?

I’ll tell you for free that it’s not a pleasant one.

Now playing: Jonathan McReynolds’ Make Room album.

I have avoided writing on this blog because I didn’t want my sadness to reflect but what’s the point of having a personal blog if I can’t pour myself into words.

The last few weeks has had me questioning everything because things seem to be working upside down from where I’m sitting. On my birthday, I made a post where I confidently wrote that my crying days were over but my tear glands didn’t get the memo because everyday since the death of Tina was announced, I have bawled my eyes out. Everyday.

Rest In Peace Tina Ezekwe.
Rest In Peace Uwa

I find myself crying at the slightest provocation because of how helpless I feel. Everyday since Tina’s death, a new rape case or unlawfully killing case has come up and I find myself struggling with living with the fear of not knowing if I’d be next and the fear of not knowing what I’m actually doing with my life. I recently tried to send mails to the people on my mailing list and because it wasn’t working as I wanted it to, I shut my laptop and started to cry. Is this not madness?

It’s insane how you could be on social media screaming “No means no” but in real life, street urchins are using both their hands and eyes to feast on your body before you even have the chance to say no. If you try to ‘reason with them’ and explain why what they’re doing is wrong, best believe that they’re narrating to their cohorts how soft your body is while marking the body of the next girl they plan to touch.

All of these coupled with personal struggles have made me question my sanity a lot of times. I’d sometimes sit on the floor with my belly lose and ask myself “na me be this?” because of how much I have to handle at once.

I have now mastered the art of skillfully avoiding giving people advice or talks to motivate them because it feels like I’m pouring from an empty cup. Saying “you’re going to be fine and everything is going to work out” when I don’t believe it myself seems hypocritical. I recently played around and found myself picking up interest in makeup and I discovered it was therapeutic for me, progressing from the worse to bad gave me a little bit of hope that something was still working in my life.

My first makeup attempt
My fourth makeup attempt

This doesn’t change the fact that I have let a lot doubts settle in. Doubting myself, my faith, God, my craft, my decisions, my journey, adulthood, my growth and a lot of other things have become my favorite past time. In total summary, I feel like a fraud.

Having to doubt God may or may not break you because He’s literally the first in your life and it feels like you’re disconnecting from the source. It felt that way for me but I couldn’t say this to anyone because I’d be looked at like I’m crazy. My friend had to say her story for me to open up to her because I finally found someone that could relate to what I was feeling about my faith in God at that moment.

We talked about it, we ranted , we complained and we decided that we were going to try to work towards trusting him. It’s not a day’s job and we plan to take it as slow as possible till we can get back on track.

Now playing: Sauti Sol’s Brighter days.

If like me, you’re going through what doesn’t feel normal to you, I really hope you find the strength to wade through it in one piece. I also hope that you also have a strong support system who would have your back as much as you’d have theirs.

Hopefully, we’d get through this.

Happy new month, love.

HOW ARE YOU?

HOW BAD DID THIS PANDEMIC HIT YOU?

HAVE YOU BEEN ABLE TO UTILIZE THIS PANDEMIC WELL?

HAVE YOU HAD TROUBLE CREATING?

DO YOU NEED HELP CREATING?

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY

Dear readers,

Initially, the thought of writing on this blog and posting on my birthday made me quite excited. I was going to routinely apologize for staying away for so long and ask that you people forgive me but honestly I’m way past that. That’s all I ever come here to write anyway.

Now playing: Senami’s “In my room” playlist.

I know I’m not the only one that gets less excited about my birthday with each passing year. I used to look forward to my birthday till I turned twenty, the excitement started to die down from that age. This year, I had hoped that I would throw a little party with my friends seeing that I had my own apartment and I would be playing host. Guess who’s sitting on the edge of the bed writing a blog post on her laptop five hours to her birthday?

if you say me, then you’re definitely correct.

I got my first birthday present two days to my birthday. It was my father who had paid me a surprise visit standing on the other side of my room telling me how disappointed he was because I had chosen to go rogue. In context, going rogue is not going back to my father’s house in Epe after school and renting an apartment of my own because no man would ever be interested in a lady that doesn’t stay with her parents. In 2020. Oddly, I felt good knowing that I had disappointed a parent because it was my first time being told that he was disappointed in me. I wasn’t so much of the star child he had grown to raise and that made me feel good.

The past one year of my life has been gone from dramatic to extremely dramatic and back to dramatic. I remember crying outside my department after my supervisor had said she didn’t remember approving the topic I had chosen. I was in chapter three and frustrated with life, that was the plug that needed to be pulled for my tears to spill and now that I think about it, I should have held those tears till I got home.

I battled with extreme sadness for months. You know the kind of sadness where its evident that something or a lot of things were wrong with you? I woke up everyday wanting to stay in bed all day and cry myself back to sleep but I couldn’t because the friends I have would never let me. I got quite addicted to sadness and tears so much that I started looking for reasons to be sad so I would listen to sad music and cry. In between sad songs and tears, I would get dms from people talking about how sad and depressed they were and I would pause my sadness and tears to help others through theirs and resume after I was sure that they were fine. It felt like madness but life could get overwhelming at times and you would wish with everything in you that you could stop being an adult. This went on till March 2020, I stopped because my eyes were beginning to hurt too much from crying. I had to bring myself out of the pit of sadness I kept digging with the help of my beautiful friends.

Happy birthday osas
wall art by peniel art

Its amazing how I played pretend online, posting videos of me ranting and playing around then switching up as soon as the camera was off my face. There’s a whole lot going down behind the scenes and I really hope some of you are realizing this now. Anyway, I haven’t visited that habit in a while and I don’t have plans to, anytime soon.

Anyway, today (because by the time you’ll be reading this post, it will be May 1st) I turn twenty two knowing that I have successfully gotten my parent to tell me to my face how irresponsible I have become and how disappointed he is in me, if he reads this, best believe that I would be shipped to Edo state to be delivered of this truancy.

I need to stop typing now, I’ve missed this so much and I’ll be back after my birthday to drop another blog post.

Thank you guys for sticking with me, don’t forget to subscribe to my blog.

Happy Birthday Osas
Osastheking

Happy birthday Irianele Virtuous Oselumese, you’re amazing.

Who Made The Rules?

Hello again, the people who read my posts on this blog. I really do hope that you’re doing great because I know I am. The last time I was here, I came to complain about not wanting to graduate because I was having pre-graduate life anxiety. Read here. This time, I’m here to tell you that I’m ready to graduate because this final year life is expensive and I cannot for the life of me, keep up anymore. Who made the rules that we had to splash a lot of money into final year activities anyway.

I need someone to explain what happened in 2019 because one minute, I was wishing you guys a Happy New Year and the now, I’m being told that its time to prepare for first term School fees for kids.

God have mercy.

Now playing: The voices in my head telling me that needles are painful and I’ll have to take them today at the medical center because I’m starting my medicals today.

Osas Irianele smiles while flaunting her colored hair and makeup

Happy Birthday Otunba Adebola Birch, send me money for cake dear.

Coming here to rant about not wanting to graduate yet because I was having pre-graduate anxiety was very satisfying but to be very honest, right now as I type this blog post, I’m ready to graduate. How can I explain  how I wake up everyday to pay for what I never ever bargain for. We can’t even escape buying textbooks at this very crucial stage because these lecturers will pull the “Buy my textbook if you want to graduate card” and relax knowing that we will buy them whether we like it or not.

Also, how do I explain that we’re allegedly in the eighth week, four weeks short to exam period and I have attended more events in school than I have attended classes this semester? Rumors about us having tests this week are even flying around but these people saw and approved of us organizing and attending these events. They even went as far as giving us lecture free week(s). The heart of man is desperately wicked and if you think that I’ll read the notes that I do not have just in case there are any tests then you’re absolutely right. If you also think that I’m going to carry my legs and walk to where I’ll spend money for final year activities that won’t last forever but will put a strain in my bank account then you’re absolutely right because this is one reckless financial decision that I’m ready to make. I accept responsibility.

One thing I’m very sure of is that I’ll feed on the likes and comments I’ll get after posting pictures from my final year activities because that’s the only way I see it.

Osas Irianele bares teeth in white attire in an attempt to look good for the camera

The unsolicited break I took off my blog had me learning more about wordpress, finding other blogs and reading the content on other blogs. I found a blog that does the work of a tech, lifestyle, gaming, general health and new world information blog. Click here to read all you need to know about tech.

Creator of the Techmeyor blog
Creator of the Techmeyor blog.

By the time you get to this part of the blog, I’ll probably be at medical center taking the nurses on a wild goose chase because I hate needles so if you hear that I got arrested for fighting off nurses violently, know that it was self defense.

See you in the comment section.

WHO/WHAT SHOULD I GO AS FOR COSTUME DAY?

WHO IS READY TO ACCOMMODATE AND FEED ME WHILE I SPEND ALL MY MONEY ON FINAL YEAR ACTIVITIES?

WHAT HAPPENED TO 2019, WHERE IS IT RUNNING TO?

HAVE YOU SET GOALS FOR THE NEXT THREE MONTHS OR ARE YOU PLANNING TO WING IT?

WHO ELSE IS GRADUATING THIS YEAR?

The Pre-Graduate life.

All of a sudden, I’m not in a hurry to graduate anymore.

Now playing: THE SEARCH ALBUM – NF as recommended by Asherkine and Themmie.

If you’ve been here with me from the very beginning, you’d know that I’ve always been making a lot of noise about wanting to graduate because I was tired and frustrated of school. Well, not anymore.

All of a sudden, I’m faced with a lot of what ifs because I realize that there’s a whole reality that I’m not ready to face in the outside world.

I’ve heard most people say that they experienced post-graduate depression but I’ve never heard anyone say they faced pre-graduate depression and it makes me wonder if this thing chose to start with me.

It now feels like four whole years ran by really fast and I have no idea how to slow down even though I know I’ll be the same person that will make a whole lot of noise about being a graduate, which I would do loudly because I would never pass on the opportunity to shut down Lagos.

It doesn’t even help that I’m still in my first paragraph of my chapter two because I don’t know what to write. The people that said writing project would be very easy because I’m a writer need to come and meet me in this boxing ring because I want to fight.

This NF can actually sing but I’m sure some of you already know that.

Anyway I’m just here to tell you that pre- graduate depression is an actual thing and to also let you know that before I leave the University of Lagos, I’ll be part of the team making history with the first CampusTechFest event at the University of Lagos. Never have I heard of an event where a fusion of tech and entertainment will be achieved but my dear friends – Kunbi Black and Steevane have decided to challenge the norm.

You know me now, I’ll be performing so register here.

You know I’d never leave this blog without asking for your opinions so please, engage me.

AM I THE FIRST ONE EXPERIENCING PRE-GRADUATION DEPRESSION?

IF NO, PLEASE I’D LOVE TO READ OTHER EXPERIENCES.

WHY DID YOU SKIP THE REGISTRATION LINK FOR CAMPUSTECHFEST?

IF YOU ENJOYED THE LAST POST ABOUT MY IBADAN TRIP, WOULD YOU BE INTERESTED IN GOING BACK TO IBADAN WITH ME ON THE 24th- 26th?

I’ve been living a lie

Twenty one years in Lagos and I grew up believing that there was no life beyond Lagos until I decided to take the bold step and move beyond Lagos.

Now playing: swaggu by yusufkanbai

I overlooked my travel phobia and motion sickness and embarked on a two-hour evening trip to Ibadan, six days here and I have realized that Lagos is designed to shorten our lifespan. I searched for at least thirty minutes traffic in Ibadan so I’ll be assured that Lagos wasn’t totally running me mad but alas!!! No traffic.

Even the rain wasn’t half as aggressive here as it has been in Lagos.

I’m now in the very best position to tell my dear readers, most of who reside in Lagos to travel out of that city once in a while just to wind off and experience the peace that comes with not being stuck in traffic and eating amala undilutedly made with peace and love.

The kind of amala you’d enjoy without getting angry if you try to drag shaki with your teeth and it splashes soup into your eyes. That’s the kind of amala I’m talking about.

WEDNESDAY

Don’t ask where Monday and Tuesday went because I slept all day on Tuesday.

If you feel the need to also be adventurous, please visit Bowers tower if you’re claustrophobic and experience what it’s like to be in a horror movie.

You can tell from the pain in my eyes that the journey that led to taking this picture was not funny. After eating that beautiful amala from Amala skye, my host decided that he was going to take me to bowers tower because he wanted me to be in touch with history. I honestly would have opted for sleep but I couldn’t resist not spending my host’s money so I agreed and so began the journey that took four of us to that tower. After climbing the hill and walking the long road that led to the tower, we finally made it into the compound where the tower stands only to find out that the stairs are really tiny and the flight up was quite long and slow. For every step I took, I said prayers that went like “God abeg, don’t let these walls close in on me, don’t let that door lock and don’t let these stairs give way under me. God, please I’m begging you, you know I don’t watch horror movies, don’t let me star in one.” I was the most scared than I had ever been in my life because the stairs were never ending.

We eventually made it up but my paranoid state refused to let my body calm down. The view was great, it was a 360 view of the whole city and I could have sworn I saw Unilag but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down because I didn’t trust the tower to not collapse.

The rest of the guys were making the most out of it and creating memories but not me because I just wanted to get to the ground again and when we did, I walked as fast as my legs could take me. I was laughed at but I preferred that, really.

I’m pretty sure that if my host says it from his point of view, you’d think we went to heaven because perspectives play very important roles in storytelling. It was that same day that WhatsApp, Instagram and Facebook were down so I visited the coldstone at bodija and compensated myself for the horror I had experienced earlier.

THURSDAY

Thursday evening had me at the the arcade at Ventura mall.

We tried something that we ordinarily wouldn’t try in Lagos. We said “let’s go to the mall” ordered Taxify and got to the mall in less than ten minutes. I kept on saying “wow” because as a sane person in Lagos, even if you lived behind the mall, you had to make proper plans and leave your house hours before the stipulated time because traffic could build up unexpectedly in front of your gate.

Safe to say that I had fun without being worried that I was going to have to face traffic on my way back home. Life is good when you don’t end up spending half of your day in traffic and all your money on transport.

FRIDAY

If you ever want to eat breakfast and get full, be sure to visit Oliver’s cafe. I was so sure before I saw the pancakes that I was going to ask for another round but halfway through the pancakes, my stomach was already acting full but I loosened my shorts and lived up to my nickname – baby elephant.

This breakfast knocked me out till 3pm.

SATURDAY

I visited Agodi gardens. I’m never going there again.

My blogger friend – Onyinye picked me up later that afternoon and took me to ParisBakery and I kid you not, they had amala alongside their icecream and cake. If you looked closely, you’d also see rice and stew.

If you love pure sugar, please order anything from this bakery. I had never had problems finishing icecream until I tasted this one. Never again dear God.

If you ever need an affordable restaurant where you can go on dates, please start with cafe Chrystalis.

SUNDAY

I’m in Lagos and I’m in tears because I entered Lagos and became unfresh. The best you people can do for me now is answer the following questions in the comment section.

DON’T I DESERVE TO LEAVE THIS LAGOS?

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO IBADAN?

HAVE YOU TASTED AMALA IN IBADAN? YOU NEED TO TASTE IT TO KNOW THAT I’M NOT BEING OVERLY DRAMATIC.

WHAT ARE THE BEST OUT OF LAGOS CITIES TO VISIT?

This Culture of Victim Shaming

How long has it been since y’all read from me?

Now that I’m back on my personal space, I can talk the way I want without anybody coming to fight me.

I’ve been away since March because this blog refused to let me post and reply comments. It was as if the blog grew a mind of its own because it just threw me out and became my master.

Anyway, now that I’m back on the weekend that the one thing I hate most in this world is trending, let’s just get right into it.

If you’ve been following me before now, you’d know that I dedicated the whole of last year to getting abused victims to speak up after someone verbally molested me and my breasts at Jibowu last year. The stories that came after mine progressed from verbal sexual molestation to actual physical and sexual molestation.

They went from “he touched my breasts,” “he fingered me” to “he raped me countless times” “she took my virginity when I was a child” and what not.

I became a totally different person in the course of reading these stories because I realized that a lot of women if not all, have experienced abuse one way or the other. I even went as far as confronting some of the molesters within my reach and getting threatened by most of them.

You would imagine my outrage when after the whole Busola Dakolo interview on YNaija, some bloody nitwits and rape apologists came out to ask questions like:

• Why was she dressed in her nightie when the pastor came to visit?

• Why is she coming out to speak now?

• Would she have spoken out if Biodun Fatoyinbo wasn’t a pastor?

All of these while completely ignoring the fact that she said that she had spoken out once before and was made to shut up and never speak of it again. Some people watched the cut clips on twitter and ig and concluded that she was lying when there was a 25 minutes long video put out on YouTube containing the full details of the assault.

Unbelievably, the attacks came mostly from women and others who were of the mind that he wasn’t a pastor when he did it, hence calling him out wasn’t necessary.

Back in 2013, Ese Walters who is a survivor to me, called out the same man for the same thing he is being accused of today and because rape is an issue that is always overlooked and social media was not as strong then, she was called names and insulted left, right and center. Thank God she couldn’t be bullied by Nigerians who would rather be blinded by the men put in place to lead them to God.

We make religion seem like a warfare in this country by not letting these religious leaders be accountable and if we won’t get anything right, let’s get our path to righteousness right. Let’s not lose our common sense in a bid to kiss the asses of the “spiritual daddies” who are rapists.

This and a lot more of these confessions are going round and I would say my story that involved a “teens president” of a church in ogudu but that would require a whole blog post.

While we wait for your Gucci pastor to go through with his lawsuit, another Gboko beast emerged from the pits after hell and decided he wanted to be Mike Tyson on his girlfriend.

You can read the full story here.

Let it be known that silence is not an option anymore and if you’re going to be a physical and sexual assault apologist, there is no place for you on my blog or in my life.

If you’ve molested someone in the past, it’s best you out yourself before someone else does it.

I’ll stop here because I have to go to yaba market to buy jeans with my friend.

My next blog post would have us catching up but until then, remember that you can be anything you want to be but not a rape apologist or rapist.

#istandwithbusoladakolo.

Do subscribe if you haven’t and don’t forget to tell everybody that I’m back.

Take a minute to stroll round the blog and admire the works of the hands of my web designer.

WHO MISSED ME?

Waist trainers? No, please dear

You people did not even tell me that this waist trainer life is hard.

Few weeks ago, StyleSenami forced me to buy a waist trainer from Jumia since I had refused to see through my plan of going to the gym, I felt so too.

I got my waist trainer weeks ago and I never got around opening the package. I just knew that I had a waist trainer lying around in my box.

Today I decided to try this dress I got as a gift from Jane Michaels last year and I decided to try it with the waist trainer.

First of all, the process of wearing a waist trainer is work in itself, I perspired like I had just come out of the bathroom because Lagos is on a whole different level of ‘hot’ at the moment. This waist trainer has to be wrapped twice for you to get the achieved results but I realized that if I wrapped it twice, Instablog’s headline would read ‘Girl on blue faints in public due to the tightness of the waist trainer nobody sent her to wear’ with a picture of me sprawled on the floor struggling to breath so I wrapped it once and got my mammary glands spilling out of the clothes and my waist snatched anyway.

Ladies and gentlemen, that picture might look like whatever you think it is but I couldn’t breath, I promise. Those things make you walk as if you’re proud and as if you have money and I honestly need to know how you lots that wear these things regularly, live with yourselves.

It didn’t help that I was hungry and I had to eat but I couldn’t because my intestines were caving in. It looked like modesty and home training to the ones that offered me food but I was really hungry and dying to remove this thing.

Hafeezah on the other hand, was as free as a bird seeing that she had nothing holding her down.

She helped zip up that dress so she is partly to blame for my discomfort.

Eitherways, I realize now that ‘snatched waist’ is not my portion as I cannot survive this hardship.

If you people want me to be fit, hire a personal trainer for me. If not, let’s be looking at ourselves.

LADIES, EVER HAD ANY EXPERIENCE WITH WAIST TRAINERS?

WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST TIME LIKE?

GUYS, EVER ENCOUNTERED ANY LADY WITH WAIST TRAINERS? HOW DID YOU FEEL?

WHO ELSE IS WITH ME ON THIS ‘I CAN’T COME AND KILL MYSELF JOURNEY?

See who decided to come back.

A month ago today, I dropped a blog post on my blog and I have since then struggled with dropping more posts, not because I’m a lazy blogger who deems it fit to drop blog posts whenever she likes but because my blog threw me off balance and requested that I got a Secured Socket Layer certificate.

I died and resurrected because these certificates don’t come cheap.

Being a blogger is a whole lot of work, I tell you.

I have the best web developer on earth. Campusstyle did everything possible to keep me calm and sane while they scurried round the web for a cheaper certificate.

Ladies and gentlemen, my blog is now premium because I paid money to be able to post and because I said so.

Now playing: the voice of reasoning in my head asking me to drop my phone and listen to my lecturer because this blog post can wait.

I’m typing this blog post under the table guys.

I missed everything about this blog but y’all missed four whole weeks of my dramatic life, you can catch up on most of them on my instagram page.

I’m back to this blog as a final year student who has finally gotten over every form of laziness to resume school. I have also come to realize painstakingly that my life would have to be on hold in order to survive this final year and the stress or I could decide to go through the stress of living my life as a student and as a hustler because man must whack.

It’s so hard to hear in this class without my glasses.

Don’t ask me how.

Eitherways, this is just a blog post to announce my return to the blog and to be sure that I’ve not lost any of you guys and to tell y’all that I came back single.

My lecturer just seized the phone of my course mate because it rang out, I’m typing with one eye on my screen and the other eye looking out.

Happy birthday to my health practitioner friend and an ardent reader of this blog. God bless you, Onye.

I’m done abeg.

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?

 

WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO THESE PAST FEW WEEKS?

 

WHO GOT VALENTINE GIFTS DEARS?

 

WHAT NEW TRICK DO YOU HAVE UP YOUR SLEEVES? FILL ME IN GUYS.

 

 

Happy Valentine’s day in advance, okay?

The whole world is taunting me right now but I’m a strong girl, this Valentine too shall pass.

Now playing: Yes, you can – Donnie Mcclurkin 1989.

This song actually made the whole of my childhood. No morning ever went by in our house without this song blasting from the DVD player, mainly because I was envious of the children that sang with him on stage and I always pictured myself amongst those kids.

The CD had to start skipping terribly before we stopped playing it but one thing I know is – Yes, I can do anything at all; well apart from watching people’s stories on Valentine’s day because that one, I cannot do!!!

Going to save myself the heartache.

This is actually one holiday I have never looked forward to because you people will disturb my timeline with red and white and extremely mushy things.

I went for the one party where I felt in control because of the theme – NO LOVE by Lynkupwithjameson, the one party where I felt like single people could triumph because of the theme but alas, I was to be disappointed because almost everyone found love at that party, all I managed to leave the party with was the fine pictures my friends took of me.

Don’t question me, please. I have headache.

Oh, Burna boy has a babe now, her name is Stefflondon. I feel bad for you bloody singles that were crushing on either him or his babe.

Jokes apart guys, after this whole valentine craze is over, I’d come back to the reality that ASUU has called off strike and I still didn’t get hostel in Unilag.

Your WCW would likely sleep on the streets of Akoka if she doesn’t get hostel, that’s not even the best part, my dear friends.

The best part is, I have been given my project topic and I cant even remember what it is even though I have to submit my proposal in April.

Me looking at my life in front of me like…

 

On the bright side, we’re all writing my project together. Thanks

 

I know that I can never be in this situation alone but let’s make my friend and I happy, click here to like this picture for us and tag two people to like on your way out.

I’m going to bed now but not without asking.

WHO ELSE DOESN’T HAVE A VALENTINE?

 

WHO IS AS SINGLE AS I AM AND WILL BE AT HOME EATING THE CHOCOLATES PEOPLE BUY FOR OUR FRIENDS?

 

WHO IS IN A RELATIONSHIP BUT UNSURE ABOUT HOW THIS VALENTINE WILL BE FOR YOU?

 

WHO KNOWS THE DSA OF UNILAG PERSONALLY?

 

Lagos Landlords are absolute extremists

If you live in Lagos and you’re trying to get an apartment, I commend you for participating in this extreme sport.

Now playing: Wonderland by Efeoraka

When I said it few weeks ago that Lagos landlords are extremists, it looked and sounded like I was blowing things out of proportion but after my friend had to claim that she was married in order to secure an apartment, I thought nothing they did could ever surprise me again until my male friend went through a totally different ordeal.

He had been on about this apartment search since December and it always met him at a dead end because these landlords are not smiling with anybody’s father.

About a week ago, he was casually talking to his client when he mentioned that he needed an apartment big enough to contain all his photography equipments but he had not found the perfect one yet, she offered to renew the rent of the apartment where her sister used to stay for my friend and her brother while he continued his search and of course, who no like better thing?

In this case, the house was owned by a woman and in the briefings given to them by their agent, they had to appear before her looking like responsible young men as she was keen on who she let into her house and so they did.

They got there looking like the most responsible bachelors in Lagos. Well, my friend did but his client’s brother came as he was – unbothered.

After going round the house and getting the final rent balance, the landlady said ‘oya let’s talk’ and sat down like a Queen.

Her ground rules were:

⁃ No coming into the compound later than 8pm (in this Lagos o)

⁃ If they ever stayed out beyond 8pm, they shouldn’t even bother coming home because she would not answer them if they knocked (even our extreme parents didn’t go this far)

⁃ All visitors must be assessed by her before coming into her compound (yes ma, Access me and tell me to leave the compound)

⁃ There would be only one key to the gate and it was going to be with her, if they ever needed to go out or come in, they would need to call her first. The gate was going to be locked at all times (because she’s the one that gave birth to them)

⁃ No female visitors (my friends and I planned to disguise as evangelists on every Sunday so we could gain access into the house, especially when we needed to shoot and maybe his own girlfriend would come in disguised as a man)

⁃ They would both come to her for spiritual counseling as often as possible (because mentorship)

⁃ And most importantly, they would always follow her to camp whenever she was going (one of these two human male soon to be tenant is a Muslim)

At this point, my friend lost it and asked that she adopted them as her children and refunded their money so they could live as puppets in her house because they could not live like that at the expense of their own money.

Well, she agreed to one thing and that was refunding their money if they couldn’t live with her rules and she did in twenty four hours. It took this encounter for us to realize that it had to be landed properties before mobile ones because ‘Lagos don tear our eye.’

Anyway, the story has a great ending. My friend has gotten a better apartment where he had to lie that he’s married with an adult kid (me) on the form.

I’d rather this than having to disguise as a man to visit my friend.

While we’re here, watch my introduce yourself video here and get to know more about me.

YOU KNOW I’LL ALWAYS ASK, HAVE YOU EVER ENCOUNTERED A LAGOS LANDLORD?

ARE YOUR PARENTS SUCH LANDLORDS?

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE IF YOU WERE IN THE SAME ROOM WITH THE LANDLADY WHEN SHE WAS SPEAKING?

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE IF YOU WERE IN THEIR SHOES?