₦airaland Forum

Read my daily gist on my blog www.runsbabe.com

Today I go home after my last lecture to drop some money for my mother. I stop at Yaba to get some provisions. When I get home, my mum is alone. She is happy to see me.

"Ah, so you came."

I am not happy to see the bandage on her forehead. That old man is lucky he is not at home.

"Yes I did," I tell her, asking how my younger ones are. She tells me that they are in school. I don't need to ask about my aunt I hear soon enough how she is constantly "dreaming up"' spiritual problems.

"Two days ago," my mum informs me with a sad face. "She said she saw me trying to force food into her mouth in her dreams."

I shake my head in wonder. I am beginning to wonder about my aunt's state of mind. My aunt is the poster child of a perfectly religious person and she never runs out of problems. From her ogogoro loving male children to my two unmarried female cousins with children in tow, and a husband who depends on my father''s meagre income to sustain his wife, children and himself, she constantly has something to bind and cast the devil for. As if that is not enough, those silly dreams of hers are never in short supply. Now she manages to accuse my mother of witchcraft.

"I challenged her and we started arguing."

And of course my father takes side with his elder sister naturally. I think again how scary marriage looks. I drop off the provisions and the money. My mother asks me how I am surviving, I tell her about a friend of mine called Esther that loans me money. She looks a little worried but she doesn't pursue the subject. I leave the house an hour later. I don't want my dad or his sister to meet me at home. I tell my mum to ask my sister to call me. I am supposed to give her some money.

It is almost dark before I get back to school. I meet Evelyn in the room but she is not alone. Her boyfriend Ola is sprawled on the bed. I can see from the way he is looking that something was happening before I came in. It had taken five minutes of pounding on the door for her to open it. I greet him and sit on the bed. Evelyn continues to giggle on his lap and I am very uncomfortable. After the afternoon heat, all I want to do is strip off my clothes and have a long shower. I take off my shoes and look everywhere but at them. Soon enough, he gets the message and leaves. Evelyn goes to see him off. I pull down my towel from where it hangs on the bunk and rush with my bucket to the bathroom. I don't spend up to fifteen minutes in the bathroom but when I come back, Evelyn and her friend Bose from the next room are involved in an argument. I hear the raised voices before I enter the room.

"Durex is better jor." Punctuated with loud laughing and clapping. Evelyn is truly in a class of her own. There is nothing too sacred or too difficult to discuss with her. And she is not even a runs girl. Her friend thinks differently about her opinion of course.

"It is a lie." She announces with a vigorous shaking of her head. "Durex is not so ribbed."

"Maybe the one you use is not ribbed, my boyfriend uses the extra sensitive type."

"How do you know this?" Bose is sneering now.

Evelyn giggles as I towel my body dry. "I have the pack with me and I can read what is on it."

I am interested in the conversation now. "An empty pack?" Esther always walks around with a pack of rubbers. I should get one too.

"No," Evelyn says, shaking her head. "He gave me just in case he runs out of supply."

"Have you heard of Lifestyles rubbers?" Bose is reluctant to give up her crown as a condom expert.

"Lifestyles ke?" Evelyn asks laughing. "Na club?"

"It is not so common in Nigeria." Bose lectured us. Now I am sitting on my bed and listening. "It is good for well endowed men."

Hmmmm really? I remember the one I saw with a client. "Have you heard of skinless rubbers?"

The two friends turn to look at me as if I just spoke Chinese.

"Skinless?" Bose asks, blinking at me.

I feel like the expert now. "It is pink in colour and almost doesn't feel like it is there when a man wears it."

"Really?" Evelyn asks, drawing close. "Where can I get it?"

Ok, I don't know the answer to that one. "It is imported too." I say with a shrug.

"I wish I can get it o!" Bose says with a loud laugh. "Skinless is it."

"You want gold circle?" Evelyn asks, tongue in cheek.

"God forbid." Bose says shuddering. "That thing is useless." She shakes her head. "Even my maiguard uses better rubber."

"What?" Evelyn asks in mock horror. "How exactly do you know that?" She starts to wriggle her forefinger at her friend. "I am suspecting you o!"

This draws laughter from Bose and the two friends begin a lengthy discussion of varying sizes of men things. I am not telling. Those girls. Anyway, time to go now. See you tomorrow.

Love,
Runsbabe.

Recently, I put up this topic on my blog:

So today around five in the evening, I am on my bed, trying to read a novel I found on Patricia's reading table. It is one of those suspense novels and I am finding it quite interesting.There is a knock on the door. I am practically the only one in the room. Evelyn had left to visit her boyfriend in one of the male student halls some two hours ago.

"Who is it?" I ask, dropping the novel I am reading and walking towards the door.

"It is me." An unknown voice says at the other end of the door. I think this answer is stupid, but I open the door anyway. A very pretty young woman was standing at the door with a big plastic bag that said "Debenhams"

"Hi." I greet, looking at the bag she is holding in interest. I know she is one of those women who bring things to sell in the hostel but she is dressed so stylishly and can pass for a student. Her silky wavy hair falls across her face even as she tries to flick it back every now and then. Of course, the hair is not her hair. Not even a half caste woman would spot something so silky. She is dressed smartly in blue jeans trouser and red wrap around shirt.

"Hello," She greets, looking past me into the room. "I am selling nice weavon." She bats her lashes at me as if I am a man. This feels weird, but I open the door to let her in anyway. I could do for some company.

"You are alone." She notes with disappointment on her face. I smile at her.

"Yes, I am alone."

She introduces herself as Ann, I tell her that it is nice to meet her. She opens the bag and pulls out several plastic bags. She says she is selling Peruvian and Brazilian weavon. I am interested. The ultimatum Esther gave me will soon expire. Two weeks ago, she expressed her concern about my hair full of darling Yaki hair extension. Cheap, she had said, turning her nose scornfully. If you don't buy Brazilian hair in two weeks, I will not take you to the big party I told you about.


So, here I am thinking this woman couldn't have chosen a more opportune moment to visit my room. There is no way I want to miss the party Esther is talking about. According to her, girls collect as much as one hundred thousand for just attending such parties. She said, it is a governor's party. So I must prepare. I collect the wraps of plastic from the seller and open them. She collects them back with a smile and tells me not to mix them.

"Some are Peruvian," She says, separating the plastic wraps and lining them on my bed where we sat. "Some are Brazilian."

Soon I am opening the plastic bags and pulling out unbelievably soft hair. I bunch the hair in my hand. I think is too small. I tell her this. She smiles at me and tells me that this is normal as the hair is light. I ask what type of weavon I am holding and she says it is Peruvian and so I take note. I move to the other bags and repeat the exercise. Now these ones are Brazilian. I can't tell any difference between the two types of weaves. Just as I am wondering about this, Evelyn walks into the room. She greets Ann the weavon seller and immediately pounces on the weaves lying on my bed.

"I think Peruvian is better than Brazilian." She says almost immediately, throwing down the weave in her hand and picking up another. Now that is my room mate for you. Tact is not something she understands. I smile at the seller in embarrassment. She looks at Evelyn's head and seems to appreciate her hair style. Well, Evelyn does know a thing or two about these weaves. In fact she has one on her head. "I wear Peruvian." She confirms, running her hand down her hair.

The seller seems interested in what Evelyn has to say. "Why do you say so?"

"Brazilian is too silky," Evelyn tells her with flourish. "Looks too fake and then dries out more than Peruvian or Indian weaves."

I look on, getting interested.

"Peruvian weave on is more natural and fits black people better."

The seller doesn't agree. So a Brazilian - Peruvian war starts millions of miles away from the countries concerned. Evelyn and the seller argue for twenty minutes. Evelyn is Peruvian and Ann the weave on seller is Brazilian. When I get tired of the arguing, I tap Ann the weave on seller and ask her..

"How much is your Peruvian weave on?"

"Twenty five thousand." She declares with a solemn look, almost as if the words are too heavy to pronounce. Twenty five thousand Naira? I think to myself in horror. I manage to slip out of the room with an excuse of visiting the toilet. Evelyn and Ann are too busy to pay me any attention. I don't go back to the room till an hour later. Emmm....I know what you are thinking. Yes,, Peruvian weave on is expensive for me. I will stick with Darling Yaki for now. Maybe after the governors' party. Who knows. Time to leave the cafe now. See you tomorrow.

Source: Peruvian Vs Brazilian Weaves(www.runsbabe.com)

So dear NLanders, what do you think? Is Brazilian hair better than Peruvian hair? I know I ran away from the seller when I heard the price but I am seriously considering getting any of the two. Please help. I look forward to your responses.