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TravelA Nigerian Applying for a UK Student Visa in the US by Nnenna1(op): 6:38am On Jul 11, 2007
Questions.

I'm expanding my options for a second degree, so while I'm considering schools in the US, I'm looking into the UK as well (actually studying in the UK cannot be more appealing at the mo). Can a non-immigrant--an international student, to be precise--residing in the US apply for a student visa for the UK via the British embassy in America? Or, Does one have to return to his home country for this? What are my chances of getting a visa to the UK if I HAD to return to Nigeria? Responses appreciated grin.
LiteratureRe: How To Be A Great Writer? by Nnenna1(f): 8:21pm On Apr 11, 2007
I understand where you're going literary devices and reading other books. They are necessary for good fiction, but not sufficient.

A good grasp of grammar (English, French, et al), and a penchant for creativity should suffice. I doubt that Chaucer(albeit learned for his time) looked up terms and older styles. Good job with the listings though.
HealthRe: Choco Skinned Dude Needs Help On Dry Skin by Nnenna1(f): 6:27pm On Feb 09, 2007
Avoid medicated and antiseptic soap in the shower. Avoid drying alcohols and deep cleansing astringents. In fact, I would avoid soap (including those claiming to moisturize), that leave you feeling "crisp" after showering. I recommend using Dove or Aveeno. I assume that you either live in Nigeria or aboard so I'd go with dove, since it's the most available type of deep moisturizing soap. Stick with your chosen product. Consistency is important

The right skin lotion depends on thickness and "gooeyness," the more meat, the better the moisture. I would avoid generic and "thin" moisturizers as they will have no effect. I hear that Nivea is good, although it does nothing for me. I have very dry skin myself and I currently use cetaphil lotion, which has the right thickness, is lanolin and frangrance free, and keeps me moisturized for hours. You could also get St. Ives unscented lotion for extra, extra dry skin if you have no access to Cetaphil. Dove lotions are nice too.

The calves and feet tend to be the dryest areas of the body, and if lotion doesn't cut it for me, I go for oil. Baby oil works wonders for the feet and calves and restores color to ashy skin. I also use Nivea oil. Shea butter is cheap and effective as well.

Lotions are most effective when your skin is damp. Be sure to mosturize immediately after you've taken a bath and wiped off excess water with a towel. This will seal in moisture (from bath water) and prevent dryness longer. If you don't mind the hassle, whenever you have a dry moment at any time in the day, "cleanse" with water, wipe with a handkerchief, and apply some pocket lotion.

If you're worried about your face, I would advice you to stop using Clear Essence as it contains alcohols and other drying agents. There's a specific cleanser by clear essence WITHOUT alcohol, so if you must use something to cleanse your face every day, then I'll stick with that. Look for mild, alcohol-free cleansers.

The trick is to avoid using products that strip oil, and moisturize, moisturize, moisturize.
Christianity EtcRe: I Do Not Believe in God by Nnenna1(f): 5:55am On Feb 04, 2007
@Nferyn, KAG, and other whoever whoever atheists:

Christians (or, let me generalize and say Theists) are just as correct in believing in the afterlife as you are in not believing in it.

I'm a Christian but I'm not jumping into the bandwagon with others (at least, I think I'm not, so if others have said something similar, then oh well). Thus I'll throw in a few caveats:

What evidence do you have for the cessation of existence upon death? And how exactly does the "lack of proof" for God's existence actually deny his existence? These questions have been posted (in many ways) time after time by others and none of you have provided conclusive answers for them.

Using evidence or lack thereof as reasons are invalid (sorry Allonym) when formally arguing about matters that do not, in and of themselves, concern evidence. God, as defined by everyone, is not tangible. Please let's cut out the "evidence" crap when discussing God and ADMIT that we're all being motivated by personal beliefs and convictions.

Like a scene from a horror movie, You're just as "in the dark" as we are.

For all your intellectual bickerings, how do you know that we're all not just floating brains in jars? Or that, in actuality, God isn't Mickey Mouse or a talking telephone?

As implausible as my examples might sound, they show the lack of absolutes when discussing matters of the afterlife and God himself. Athiesm is not the ideal--it is the just as much of a choice as theism or religion. Let everyone find his or her own way of making peace with himself or herself. If the starter of this thread decides not to believe to God, then Godspeed (ha) to him.

I don't know if it's me, but I feel that sometimes the athiest pos(t)ers in the religious section act like elitist jerks.
TV/MoviesRe: Best Indian Film So Far? by Nnenna1(f): 8:26pm On Dec 26, 2006
My best Bollywoods:

Yeh Vaada Raha (Sunita movie)--My all time favorite. I cry everytime I watch it.

Nagin (really old snake girl movie) is also nice. Mard is cool.
LiteratureRe: Where To Purchase Vintage Nigerian Novels? by Nnenna1(op): 12:51am On Dec 16, 2006
ZuluNation:
I normally get my Nigerian novels from Borders Books, most of the time the don't have them on display but the can always order them for you very cheap
Thanks, I'll look it up.
LiteratureRe: Where To Purchase Vintage Nigerian Novels? by Nnenna1(op): 1:49am On Dec 15, 2006
Na wa o, so no one knows anything about this? cry
LiteratureRe: What Shakespeare Book Thrills You Most? by Nnenna1(f): 1:46am On Dec 15, 2006
Funny enough, I just wrote my last final exam for the semester this morning, which was for my Shakespeare class. I had put off reading a good number of the plays until the exam began to encroach, and was forced to "read and digest" them in bulks prior to today. The plays I read were thus:

Merchant of Venice
Taming of the Shrew
Othello
The Tempest
Twelfth Night and
Macbeth

Of the plays, I really enjoyed Twelfth Night and Taming of the Shrew. By far my favorite was Othello, not just because the protagonist was of African heritage, but the passion and emotion that drove the plot (I mean Othello here). Othello was very visual, and the coversations were almost very real. I prefer the prosey parts of the plays to the verses, and Othello had a lot of these. Othello (the character) was so foolish I wanted to strangle him, but I enjoyed the ride. Nice thread. Not many people I meet would love to have Shakespeare as a friend, much less an author of a book they love (horrid trying to translate early modern English into lay man's language).

BTW, it's funny how one finds the many sexual innuendos and profanities in Shakespeare's plays once they graduate from Charles and Mary Lamb's fairytale edition. And I mean many.
LiteratureWhere To Purchase Vintage Nigerian Novels? by Nnenna1(op): 7:57am On Dec 13, 2006
I'm a sucker for Nigerian "trash" novels a la Rainbows are for Lovers and co. I live in the US, and was wondering if anyone knows a thing or two about purchasing them here. I reeeally like them old (as in 1970s and 80s). I have been to the pacesetters site and have purchased some books, but I wonder if there are ways that I could get books by other publishers. I don't care if they're used or new.

Any tips?

Thanks.
LiteratureRe: My Name Is Obum: A Sad Story by Nnenna1(op): 7:47am On Nov 27, 2006
Wow,  cheesy I got a lot more replies than I bargained for, thanks guys. I really really appreciate it.

I know I haven't posted in a loooooong while so I thought I'd do some more. I have so much on my mind right now but I promise to give this my undivided attention once I've sorted things out. Here's some more:

[center]TWO

He kept to himself in the beginning. When the cock crew, at the dark hours of the morning, I would hear his feet shuffling. I would feel the room brightening even with my eyes closed, and smell kerosene and hear the timid crack-sounds of the lamp light as he surely made his way out of our hut. I would rise to the sounds of wood-chopping and grunts. Brother would go out to watch him. Mama and I would remain indoors, searching room corners and little stashes for some leftovers to warm up. Papa, as usual, always made his futile trips down the path to the outside where he would look for any other signs of human life. Signs that we weren’t really alone. We all didn’t want to admit that Stranger was a bit of a miracle. It had been weeks since we’d seen another human face and his presence should have cheered us up. Instead, his pitch-black skin and big teeth sent my heart racing. He was a walking premonition waiting to descend on us.
One other morning, When I and mama couldn’t find any food and resigned ourselves to the hope that papa would bring us something to eat, I made my way out of the hut and watched him work. Brother was wheeling huge logs of wood to and fro. Stranger stood each log and sliced them, gritting his teeth.
I approached him as brother pushed his wheelbarrow off for another load.
“Good morning,” I said.
He grunted and took another swipe at a log. The nerves on his large neck bulged.
I looked around. It was a breezy morning. The vast grasses around us were ascending even higher—fearfully so. We had to leave this place. It was quickly becoming a forest. I could hardly even make out the bridge that used to be visible at distance away.
“Nice day,” I said to Stranger.
He grunted again.
“You don’t say much, do you?”
He paused. And then he put another log of wood in place and hit.
“You said your name was Obi, right?”
“Obum.”
“Oh, sorry. Obum. And where are you from? You never told us where you were from.”
“I lived around here, just like you did.”
”I didn’t live around here. It was in Lagos, but not this part.”
“I lived around here.”
“Oh…and how was it? I mean, before all of what happened. What is the name of this place again?”
He didn’t answer.
Brother approached us, groaning from the weight of the logs he pushed. I went over to help him.
The afternoon came by and Papa hadn’t still returned from his trip, which was unusual. He always made it back before long, usually in a sad stupor. I, Mama and Brother sat outside to wait for him. Obum stayed inside.
“I don’t trust him,” Brother spat.
“Who?” I asked. Mama stared straight ahead. For a while she hadn’t really been paying attention to anything.
“That Obum, or whatever he calls himself”
“Shhh…he can hear you.”
“So what? He knows it’s true. He can hear all of my cock and bull for all I care. Goodness knows what he has done with Papa.”
“Papa was gone all morning, and Obum has been with us all day.”
“What if he’s…you know…a spirit?”
I laughed and hoped Obum wasn’t hearing the conversation. His red eyes and beautiful teeth appeared like a frightful image in my mind.
“Ikenna,” I said, and then caught myself. I hadn’t called my brother’s name in days, I realized. “Nothing will happen to Papa, or any one of us.”
“I don’t know…I really don’t care if anything happened to us, anyway.  I wished something bad happened to us, so that we could all die and our miseries would end”
“Ikenna!”
“It’s true. Ever since that stupid earthquake nothing has ever been the same. Abuki is dead, Chioma is dead, Chuchu is gone…”
At the sound of Chuchu tears sprung up in my eyes. He was five years old and still hadn’t learned to come off Mama’s breasts. He was getting very good at Ncho and could read a little bit of his class’ English Macmillan textbook. It was Mama who found him under the television and rubble. He nose was crushed and caked with blood and he was missing some teeth.
“…all those people on the road…all of them…like corpses…all dead. I wonder why our family survived…I wished we died with them.”
“God has a purpose for everything,” I said feebly.
“Rubbish.”
“Shush! Don’t say “rubbish” when God is mentioned.”
He kept quiet. I was happy that he was a little afraid of being profane with God. But I think it was Obum who got him scared. He was a little like God in a way, with his tall, black frame.
I peeked inside the doorway to see if he was listening. He crouched, his eyes closed. He must have dozed off. He didn’t snore.
The sun had set and Papa still had not come. Mama sobbed quietly.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”
“No…He’s dead…he’s gone.”
“No, he’s fine. Mama, I promise…He’s okay.” I didn’t believe me. Brother had already gone out to look for him. I felt Obum’s eyes on me the whole time. He was setting up the lamps. I hoped Brother and Papa would return soon. My stomach growled from hunger.
Mama shook a little bit. After cajoling her to relax, she went to a corner and set her wrapper on the ground. Once she closed her eyes I left the hut and waited outside because I didn’t want to stay inside with him. Once out, I waited.
“Where do you think your father went?”
Startled, I turned to the hut. He towered over me. His red eyes were clearer. His teeth were hidden from view. He almost looked human.
“He always walks to the main road to look for someone he knows,” I shrugged.
“He shouldn’t be doing that.”
“He wants to.”
“He shouldn’t. There’re a lot of bad things out there.”
I stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Scavengers. Animals. And there’re people too. They’re not just people you want to meet.”
“How do you mean?”
He looked away from me. “This used to be a University. People knew me here. They were afraid of me and I knew it. I used that to advantage because I had nothing else. Needless to say, I did what people my age shouldn’t do.”
My heart beat fast. He stared right at me. “Don’t be afraid. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“And your parents…how were they?” I asked. “Or you didn’t have any?”
He laughed as if it were a stupid question. “Oh I did. I hardly knew them, but they were there.”  He paused. “You have a smooth look.”
My head throbbed. “What?”
“That rich look. Hard life hasn’t taken a toll on you. What did your dad do for a living?”
“He had a small company.”
“Too bad he has nothing now, eh?” He laughed. “We’ll see about you in a few years.” His eyes roamed around my face and chest and legs. He shook his head slowly.
I heard some voices from afar and looked ahead. Obum stopped too. It was a little group. I could make out Papa’s small figure from afar. It should have been a relief to see more people, but there was something malevolent about them approaching. I think Obum saw it too. His red eyes narrowed. 
[/center]

As with the last post, this has a lot of rough spots. Hope you enjoy and expect more from me soon. smiley Keep on with the critiques. I'd like to know of ways to polish my writing.
LiteratureMy Name Is Obum: A Sad Story by Nnenna1(op): 2:19am On Jul 21, 2006
"Untitled": A sad story

Oh goody! A story forum. I’ve always loved to write and so I was excited to see that this part of the forum was created (It was about time, IMO). Wrote this in a dash, so enjoy. Please tell me what you think and critique if you like. There’s nothing I love more than balanced, truthful reviews. This is the first installment of my series, yet to be titled. I wrote this without planning, so if it doesn’t appear linear or if it seems bit too rough, please do not mind it. I also made it as interesting to read as possible.

ONE

He said he was strong enough to work, or something like that. It was evening, and the sky had already vomited big red clouds. Dangerous clouds. Mama had warned us, the children, never to venture outside the compound gate after the clouds, but we had to stand by papa just in case. We could never tell with strangers.

“Where are you from?” Papa asked, his voice slightly cracked with apprehension. I couldn’t blame him. The stranger looked as if he was seven feet tall, and his eyes were two unreadable red slits. A small sack hung over his brick-like shoulders. Caked red dust formed doodles and big botches all over his hairy chest. He wore shrunken trousers, and he stared straight at me. Searing, knife-eyes. My heart thumped painfully. I think he was hungry. I instinctively barricaded my breasts with my arms.

"Somewhere." His teeth were unusually white.

He turned his eyes away from me and looked ahead, tipping his head at the scattered logs of wood by the compound gate which was a few yards back. “You need some help. I want to assist you in exchange for food and shelter, and I’ll be on my way in a few days.” No please or begging niceties, just the facts. He was emotionless. I was scared and thrilled by just listening to him talk. I felt like I was in an adventure movie. I remembered the action video collections brother jealously guarded when we used to live in that pink-colored duplex in Ikeja. Those days are gone now.

I heard a click. I think it was brother clutching his rifle tighter. It will be safe if he can just shoot the stranger out here in the grass, I thought. No one will know, or even care. But Stranger looked like the devil himself, red and pitch-black and bald and strangely alluring. And we stood still, transfixed by fear.

But I think it was something other than fear that prompted papa to reluctantly allow him in—that is, on the condition that he slept in the storage hut and remember his place—and give him a share of our dinner. Perhaps it was Andrew’s death. Andrew had just gotten a Job as a doctor at Saint Nicholas hospital when it happened and he died in the explosions. Andrew was papa’s hope, the first model of the articulate, learned, debonair Anyanwu. Stranger looked Andrews age.

Mama avoided Stranger like the plague during dinner time. She sat on the stool at the corner of the room. She didn’t want to eat with the rest of us. The walls reflected wobbly shadows from the firewood light. It was cold and dry. Stranger chucked the fork out of his plastic container and scooped our dinner—bean pottage—with his fingers, shoving it into his mouth. We all watched him, our dinners barely eaten.

“What’s your name?” Brother asked.

“Shut up and eat.” Papa’s voice snapped harder than a whip.

“Obum.” Stranger replied. “My name is Obum.”



What do y'all think? Weird? Nice? Just Okay? Boring? Confusing?
FoodRe: Your Ideal Nigerian/African Food TV Channel by Nnenna1(op): 7:41pm On Apr 25, 2006
Na wa o, is my thread that boring, cry
FoodYour Ideal Nigerian/African Food TV Channel by Nnenna1(op): 6:15pm On Apr 18, 2006
Your Ideal Naija/African Food Tv Channel

Any fans of BBC food or any other food channel? In short, who loves foodhuh Any haters?

If a food channel was created to suit Naija/African tastes, what would u want it to be like? What sort of shows would you love to see with food overtones?

If you were a hater of food stations, what would you include to a food channel of this nature to make it lovable?

please you can be as creative as you like.
BusinessRe: Just Saved A Bunch Of Money On My Car Insurance! by Nnenna1(f): 5:43am On Mar 29, 2006
Isn't it funny how they end almost at the same time? tongue
Nairaland GeneralWhat's Your Worst Fear? by Nnenna1(op): 5:41am On Mar 29, 2006
Mine's a little odd, to me at least.

I fear waking up and realizing that I'm alone in the whole *whatever*, finding out that nothing ever really existed: My family, friends, this world, ideals, even my physical self. Sometimes I overimagine things, if a person leaves my room, is he non-existent therefore? Is there really a world outside my view or does it exist only when I see, feel, hear or touch it?

I hate those existentialist/nihilism classes.

Now, that's me. What about you guys?
TravelIkeja Barracks: Describe Your Experiences (I'm Writing A Story) by Nnenna1(op): 12:53am On Mar 29, 2006
Who In This Forum Lives/used To Live In Ikeja Barracks?

I'm writing a short story with the Ikeja bomb blast as the background. This is for our college literary magazine.

I would like anyone who has lived there, or who still lives there to provide me with some things about the place. Even more helpful, I would like to know the tensions caused by the bomb blast as well.

It doesn't have to be anything huge. Like how are the houses and how did people interact. Domestic squabbles, activities or parties. Do the daddies wear military uniforms about. How do children manage. What did the place look like?

Personally, how did/do you live in there? Was it boring, etc.

hoping for replies grin
Forum GamesRe: The Rhyming Game by Nnenna1(f): 11:46pm On Mar 28, 2006
denigrate
Forum GamesRe: Did You Know? by Nnenna1(f): 11:42pm On Mar 28, 2006
Did you know that, on average, the human brain contains information large enough to fill 90 million books?
TV/MoviesRe: Genevieve Nnaji for Hollywood? by Nnenna1(f): 9:36pm On Mar 27, 2006
The mistake Genevieve is making is that she is using success in Hollywood as a measure of her talent. She seems to want America's pat on the back (I see the majority of us here are victims of this too).  What's wrong with her being successful here? Basically what should be improved is the quality of Nollywood movies. Nigerian actors are talented, even more so than hollywood actors, I dare say. I mean, they have to pull their act together in as little time as a week shocked! They only need top-notch direction. The best actors in Hollywood (Steve Mcqueen, Clark Gable, Denzel Washington, Charlize Theron etc) had coaches that harnessed and tweaked their talents to perfection. If Nigerian actors had that luxury, wouldn't they be as great? Abeg You don't have to be in Hollywood to be the cream of the top.

Secondly, Hollywood is soooo overrated cheesy. Many of their movies are crappy as hell, I mean. listen to the dialogue in Star Wars III Revenge of the Sith, ugh!

That, of course, is another topic.
TV/MoviesRe: Horror Movies You Have Seen by Nnenna1(f): 9:44pm On Mar 22, 2006
I love horror movies although I'm not really into the gore, zombie and serious bloodshed. I like atmospherical, creepy films that are dark and silent.

My favs:

The Omen
The Exorcist
The Ring
Rosemary's Baby
The Sixth Sense (Not really horror, but love the classic twist)
Frailty
The Others
Any Vincent Price movie
Blair Witch Project
Final Destination (Okay, this definitely has gore, but it's a good campy flick-the-lights-off fun movie).  grin
CelebritiesRe: Ramsey Noah or Desmond Elliot? by Nnenna1(f): 9:33pm On Mar 22, 2006
cheesy

This is the most hilarious thread ever cheesy grin cheesy grin cheesy grin cheesy grin

Maybe I'm on a sugerhigh or something but I'm snickering badly right now and I can't help it.
Music/RadioWho Listens To Enya? by Nnenna1(op): 10:42pm On Mar 21, 2006
I like have two of her CDs. Here's my favorite of her songs:

Only Time
May it Be
Pilgrim
Shepard Moon
A Day without Rain

What's yours, if you like her?
PoliticsRe: Wasn't Colonialism A Good Thing In A Way? by Nnenna1(op): 9:40pm On Mar 19, 2006
Oh, I do know my history  wink I agree with what you're saying.  The impact of trade and globalization has far more influence on world technology and education than colonization ever will--although I still believe that colonialism was an inevitable phase that we had to go through. What I'm saying is that our mentality right about now--intellectual ramblings about racism, tribalism and the struggle for acceptance, democracy, religion, true knowledge about ourselves, other -isms, if you will, might not be an issue. Hell, would Nigeria exist?  We certainly would be living our within our different ethinicities and territories, oblivious the others if we wanted. Nairaland, this site, is filled with issues linking to Colonization in many ways, and it is a conglomaration of the Nigerian Ethnic groups. Would this site exist then?

As far as imbibing western education, Colonization, although it had its sinister ramifications, ensured that much of us were educated faster. At least, that is how I see it. Nigeria's best intellectuals of the colonial period were very much influenced by their surroundings at the time. Africa's great novel Things Fall Apart was all about that theme.

So, I pose my question again. Wasn't colonization good in a way? Without it, would we be this attached to the concept of freedom? (I see you even mentioned the french revolution) Would we come to value our roots the way we do now?
PoliticsWasn't Colonialism A Good Thing In A Way? by Nnenna1(op): 2:04am On Mar 19, 2006
Okay, before y'all decide to hunt me down really think about the above question.

If we weren't taught their ways, how do you think we would have been living our lives right about now? Certainly we would be discovered right now and nonetheless be colonized, but would we have all this techonology, intellectual-ism and political (democratical) sense of self? would Native Africans be winning Nobel Prizes and having seats in world organizations currently? Hell, would we even have Nairaland? I think about it all the time though. Yes,we all think that it was wrong to be manipulated and used for another civilization's development, but still.

Now that we're flaming, sesquipedalian argumentators, can we actually sit and say that it was a bad thing? IMO i think it's confusing, but I will get to that once if this discussion begins. smiley

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