₦airaland Forum

Flakkydagirl: If you've got eyes,then take a look.

wey ur pix

Flakkydagirl: its important that you look beautiful,how many ugly ladies have you dated,all that men care about is the physical,big front,big back,flat stomach,curves,hips,lips and others.

re u beautiful

vizkiz: is dis a movie or true life story??
btw...Must u b beautiful 2 qt a qood husband/make it in life?? Ladies sha!

seconded

“Weyrey, olori buruku oshi” I said aloud as I found out that the bastard had deleted me off his BBM. “Hope all is well,” one of the waiters asked in Yoruba. Without uttering a word, I picked up my bag and left. “Before the idiot spoils my day, make I find something do,” I thought to myself, putting my earphone to activate my other brain, the one that does not think at all. The rest of the week seemed really fast and boring as lectures were gradually commencing.
To get the thoughts of Segun who is easier referred to as the bastard off my mind, I decided to cook, yes, cooking is to me as shopping is to most babes, very therapeutic to me, marry me now abi?
“Tope, Tiwa, Tolani” I heard from behind me, on my way to class the following Monday. I turned to see who it was.
“You don’t remember me” he said walking up to me, pausing to let me think.
“Ridwan, the guy you met with Liz at the market on Saturday. Oh, Liz had introduced me to him but I was too busy calculating in my head to give him a thought.
“Oh, don’t mind me jare, memory full” I replied pointing to my head. “The name is Tolani anyways” I continued. We talked as we walked to class parting blocs to my department.
“Look who I bumped into? Tolani”
“Oh” I replied but in my mind, I was like “Oh if I slap you ehn, who do you think you are deceiving?” I had seen him pacing on the corridor of my department floor in the middle of Dr Awho’s class. So he had been waiting for me”. He escorted me to my hostel before he turned back. Over the next few days, he became very stalk-ish bumping into me from every corner, every other time.
“So are you going to your hostel?” He asked. “No, I’m going to the library” I retorted. Sharp babe like me, he would not follow me there.
Astonishingly, he followed me o saying he had planned to go too.
“Omo, dem don Behind up this library o” I said aloud as the guilt of my parents telling me to be a regular library student and not setting foot there in over a session filled my mind. I shrugged it off, picked a random book and sat in a quite crowded place just to discharge him. At least that worked but not for long, about half an hour later, he came to tell me he was leaving then he asked for my phone number. Wait! With all the eyes, it would inhumane to refuse to and I don’t want popularity as the ugly girl forming. The thought of giving him a wrong number came to my mind but since he would still “bump” into me, I gave him the right one and he left immediately.
While I was busy racking my brain on how to finish my assignment, Beyonce’s I was here, my ringtone, I picked and guess who it was, you guessed right, Ridwan asking me if I had gotten to my hostel, like we just got some some. I saved his number and made a mental note not to pick his call again but he kept calling, leaving a message after over ten calls and the bumping didn’t stop. He was stalking me.
Truth is I don’t even like the guy, he is not even close to the type I like, I am taller than he is, skinny he is, he is not fine and not ugly, he is just there sha, .The direct opposite of the tall, fair and handsome with Praiz-like beards, smile like John Legend (with no tattoos ooo). Don’t mind me with all my specifications but if you are anything like that you can drop your twitter handle, I’d mention you after I check the avi nii ooo.
One fateful day like they say in secondary school essays, he called me and told me he wanted to see me (in plain terms) In this school, if a guy tells you in plain terms, I want to see you for something important, he either wanted to ask you out or preach the word to you. If it is for the former, it’s a Capital NO but if it is for the latter, God forgive me; he go try, God forgive me again *kneels down*. I kept forming busy but he just wanted to see me at all cost.
Finally, after “bumping into me” on one hot afternoon, he sat me down on one of those ever-dirty seat under the tree just outside my faculty. “Thank you for coming with me here, I really appreciate it” he started. He digressed, talking about his course, how he has to write a term paper and all other things that did not sink. All I could think of was leaving that place then he muttered, “It is basically about history and culture degradation in south-west Nigeria, using Egba, Oshogbo, Ibadan or ethnic group as a case study so I’d thought you wouldn’t mind taking pictures for me?”
I did not get it at first so there was about a few seconds of silence before it rang in my brain like a catholic mass bell. He wanted me to take pictures of my face so he could put it in some Ibadan woman from 1940 to present chart. I bolted out the seat and stormed away but not without giving him a piece of my mind. “So you have been stalking me since so I can be your guinea pig. Ah what nonsense, Christ, What are you?” I shouted not minding the people who were focused on me already. “God why? Is it my fault?” I thought to myself as I sank into the seat of the cab taking me out of campus. I needed a break from all of this madness.
As if Bola knew, she hugged me as soon as I showed at her doorstep; the tears that had filled my soul came running straight through my eyes immediately. Amazed, “what happened Tolani” Bola asked. Amidst sobs, I relayed the whole situation; she simply brought a bottle of Baileys that we drank from until I fell asleep.
“Did you say Liz introduced you to the idiot?” Bola asked as I was trying to rinse my face the next morning. I mumbled a yes trying to rinse my mouth too. She called Liz, I just stabbed classes since my eyes had gone sore and by evening, Liz came around, I explained the whole dilemma over again. She explained to us that she did not know him like that much and that they just got talking about ‘keeping up with the Kardashians’ show. She recommended going to shout and warn him, the idea was brushed off as soon as the evil genius Bola came up with an idea. The rest of the night was quite fun has PHCN decided to help us watch some set of films over juice. It was all girls lazing around.
The next Monday, after scrolling through my mentions, DMS and pings, I called him
ME: hello
Ridwan: hey, morning, I’m very sorry for…………..
ME: Don’t worry, I took it wrong, if I am not proud of myself then who will be proud of me?
Ridwan: Maybe it was the way I put it
ME: (cut in again) so when is your term paper due?
Ridwan: Next week Tuesday
ME: so when do we meet for the pictures. Should I take pictures from my phone or should we use a photographer.
Ridwan: Friday, if you don’t mind, the photographer would be better so I can get a vantage view.
ME: Ok till then bye.
*****************************************
So i’m here trying to figure out what’s gonna happen next(Na Ibrahim dey talk o) I mean… What’s The PLAN? Are you sure they not gona kill the dude or pour him acid?

With my bag and baggage, I bundled myself into a bus going out of Ibadan to school. Buried in my novel, I heard the driver call out “last bus stop” I packed my things off the bus and boarded the bus-shuttle into campus.
As soon as I got to my hostel room and unpacked, I pinged my girls, none of them was in school except Bola, so I decided to go to her place. I then called her
ME: Hello
BOLA: T-lines how far?
ME: I dey ooo, you dey house?
BOLA: Of course, are you coming?
ME: sure
You must have noticed she called me T-lines there. Well, T-lines is the name Liz coined for me. It so happened that Viv went for a modelling audition and dropped my number as her other number. I was called and told that I was picked for the modelling job. Here I was telling my friends:
ME: they don pick me do model ooo!
LIZ: ehn model, na ONWARD u wan model for?
ME: I don’t get you (looking lost)
LIZ: your advert go sweet ooo, Lines, lines and more lines (pointing at my face)
VIV: na me o, my phone’s battery was flat
BOLA: (laughing) Tola lines
LIZ: no ooo T-lines
ME: una no well o
LIZ: T-lines for Onward model
Funny how that name has stuck with me since then.
“This Bola’s hall mate can like to do Aristo ehn”, I thought to myself as I breezed past an ash-coloured car in Bola’s off-k apartment. “Bola ooo” I called out at her door before knocking. “Girlfriend”, she said as she opened this door. Ehn ehn see Bola o, this girl is looking all fresh.
“You have been chopping all your popsy’s money abi see your skin, Ele to clean” I yapped letting my Ibadan ascent get ahead of me in this latter part.
“You don’t look bad either ooo” she replied. We caught up on gist (we don’t gossip anyways) *rolls eyes*munching the spaghetti and sauce she made. “Ehn Ehn, Bola, your hall mate don come nii?” I almost forgot. “No, she hasn’t, why did you ask?”
“Who now has the car I saw outside?” replying her question with another question. I could not believe my ears, Bola brought the car, (don`t get me wrong, not trying to underrate her but she should have told me something at least a hint).
“I just wanted to watch how you’d react,” she answered, dangling the keys. I opened my mouth to say something but I could only mouth a scream. We went outside and trust my Yoruba-bred-self to over-pray for her “Emi a lo, o ni fi gba eyan, won oni kolu e o, Bola” laying stress on the Bola as I sat in the driver’s seat fiddling with the steering wheel. As much as I am happy for her, I am happy for myself too oh! This means doubling of rep, escalation of shakara, rolling with big girl with big toy. We decided not to tell Vivian and Liz just to see their reactions too.
It could take only a surprise like that to make me forget my mission *007 like myself*. I had gone to her place with one aim only: to steal the black pumps I had seen on her DP three days earlier and anything else that catches my fancy knowing that there is always something to steal from a babe who changes her entire wardrobe every semester. Last semester, it was a brown boyfriend jacket
The next Friday when Viv and Liz finally decided to come to school, you should have seen Liz and her melodrama acting like the car was a baby meanwhile Vivian was like “nice, cool” *this girl like to form ehn* (don’t say I told you o).
“What if we all go and unwind before the semester wahala plus I just wash the car for you guys”. Bola asked
“That’s true, no be only wash you gats bath am sef” Liz replied, violently pushing the buttons on the car stereo in a frantic attempt to play music.
“Let’s meet at my place at say eight” Bola continued.
“We can always trust you to make a late entry, you look good anyways,” Liz said, immediately Vivian stepped in the room filling the air with her scent later that day.
“Leggo, let’s do this” Bola shouted dabbing on lipstick. Looking all decked up, we walked into the VIP section of one of the most exclusive bar/club around campus tailed by the eyes of others at the bar. Bola began to down the drink as soon as she bought the bottle. Soon she and Liz were dancing like witches under anointing while I was uploading pictures on almost every social media I was on.
“Stupid boy”, I said aloud about to type the words in reply to my brother who was teasing me about using my Aristo’s car as DP. Just as I clicked on the track pad, I felt someone tap my shoulder from behind.
“Hello” I heard the owner of the hand say in a rich baritone voice. I turned to look at him but I could not make out the face because of the dim lights in the bar. Before I replied, he continued asking if I would like to dance
“Depending on who is asking?” a little famzing won’t hurt now abi”.
“Who else, me of course” He replied laughing.
“Ok, let’s see” I stretched my neck to reach his ears because of the blaring music from the speakers. I could notice his tiny gold necklace as it glowed in the dark.
Time to finally practice my bathroom dance steps on someone, comfortably Skelewu-ing as Davido’s Skelewu was playing, I saw him smile, He sef try as he was quite a good dancer, we danced through, D’banj’s Raise your glasses and other tunes before Viv came to tell me that it was time to leave. We exchanged BBM
pins and God bless GLO, that night we became chatty. His name was Segun, Microbiology department’s social secretary, loves to watch football and meet people.
“Come down ooo” Vivian called me out of cyberspace. “Wait first, na Vivian drive” I thought to myself but was too engrossed in the chat to talk. We chatted about everything from politics to fashion to entertainment before I fell asleep but not before we chose to meet at the cafeteria the next day.
At around 10pm, the following day, I pinged Segun and told him.
Madam Tola Suave
Approaching the cafeteria in a bit
Hope you are still coming
A Sage named Sege
Sure
I’ll be there in a sec
Madam Tola suave
Okay already waiting ooo
After typing, I gave himself another once over, I try nah, pulling up the Sasha P look, which is my favourite anyways, with red jacket, white top and black jeans. I entered into the cafeteria after notifying him I was there. Just as I was about rummaging through my bag for my mirror and lipsticks, the red notification light on my BB caught my glimpse
A Sage named Sege
I can`t find you ooo
What are you wearing?
Madam Tola Suave
Red Top

DOWNLOAD THE COMPLETE STORY ON http://www.eduregard.com/product/lamentations-of-an-ugly-girl-book-pdf


Before I start, I’d like us all to agree on some conditions. I did not bring my life out here to be advised or to be told that “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder” shit or “You’re beautiful in your heart” crap. *abeg, how is a lady suppose to be beautiful in her heart, so guys will be like “guy, check out that girl”s heart, it’s so beautiful mehn*. In addition, you must know that my life is not a Bond movie so there are days when adrenaline would ooze without caution and there are days when I am more boring than twerking to a bagpipe tune. That being said; fasten your seatbelts people.
I am Gbadamosi Omotolani, 21 year old, chocolate skinned, 5ft 9”, almost hourglass figure. You must be imagining one fine Ini-Edo-like girl to be. Wait till I tell you about my face. I am a custodian of the Ibadan culture in every sense of the word: I have three thick tribal marks on each side of my face. (Keyword thick; thicker than most of this flat screen TVs width) Ok, let me stop for you to throw up, I just did that myself.
Of all four children of my parents, I am the only one with tribal marks; the others do not even have scars not to mention marks on their faces. Every time I ask my dad the reason for the marks, he brings up this topic of how I am a true representation of the Ibadan people and I am meant to be identified anywhere I go.
I have tried bleaching, toning, peeling and all other unprintable things to take it off but like DJ Sose’s tattoo, up in my face till death. I have since learnt to live with it[tempted to call it disability], never let it deter my rep, it just made me put extra work in looking fine or manageable as the case may seem.
Although I cannot wear loud clothes unlike my friends, oh my friends, damn, I miss those girls, Bola, slightly spoilt, second daughter of a business mogul, this girl is crazy but she is always fun to be with.
Vivian, light skinned, Omo Ibo, we met as fresh-men and have known each other since then, the babe, my direct opposite because she is fine. Now to the life of the pack, drama mama, Elizabeth, she is the CNN of the pack, very melodramatic, straightforward and funny; she never misses chance of a good laugh.
They say true friends are like gems, these ones are diamonds, I remember this one time, when the four of us were walking together and some guys came to greet us. They walked past me and proceeded to greet Bola.
Surprisingly, she said “you saw someone before me, if you can’t greet her just walk”. “Walk” Elizabeth echoed, strutting her fingers in demonstration, guys being guys, they just walked but the next time they sure greeted. So many other ways, we all had to stand up for each other. School resumes in a week and I can’t wait.
P.S: I am a writer although I might not be able to tell my story adeptly but I can do that completely and truthfully.

dancrux: Dry story mtchewww.....

were u dragged in??

engroke: This looks like one of AY's. Short clip...........ADONBILIVIT..........picture or it never happened

must u bliv??

sopoundz: @op wen I was readn d 1st q in ma head 2 ask was "r u related 2 lynxx?" Buh its a stry kip it comn, I njoyd it even tho d guy wu kald said 2much b4 d hello, guys hardly loose guard

na so