₦airaland Forum

WAACUT:
nice story ....seated and waiting.... just like me I don't go to church....

'raises-eyebrow'

Thanks...

You won't be waiting for too long...

The story continues this week.

Do you have Ted Dekker Francine Rivers and Karen Kingsbury books?

Dammykrone:
Good Morning Diary. Good Morning Shewrites. How Was Your Night?

Morning Dammykrone...

Missmossy:
Such an interesting read,keep it up.

Thanks

Ann2012:
Good morning diary, just came back from church

Thanks for the update ma'am

The story continues

PrudySara:
Good night dairy, tomorrow is Sunday. Sure, I'll be going to church ... Hoping I'll get an update from SheWrites tomorrow...


Thanks for the update

hahahaha... see wisdom

Continuation

But, with a few distractions here and there, one can get by.
Bottom line, I will go when I feel like it. And it doesn’t have to be Sam’s church. There are about five, six different churches on my street alone. I can choose to attend anyone of them, whenever I feel like.
Since I moved out of my late father’s house, I have not been consistent in church. I don’t plan to be a regular church attendee in the near future. I am okay with the way I am living my life. This is the way I want things to be and God understands. No stress. Let’s drop this church talk and move forward.
Sorry diary, I didn’t spend time with you yesterday. Yesterday was Saturday. My Saturday was something else.
I started off with doing my laundry in the morning, I separated and ironed the clothes I am going to wear to work next week, I took my shoes to the Mallam to have them polished, then I went to the market and cooked. My fridge is stuffed and ready for the new week.
I saw Itoro and Timi when I returned from the market. They are still acting like Adam and Eve or like Romeo and Juliet. They should continue. More grease to their elbow. I am counting down to their next violent conflict. Is it not them? Quarrel, settle, quarrel, settle, quarrel, and settle, all the time. Dey no dey tire. Me I tire o. Biko. It has do now.
Back to my gist. All work and no play makes Jack a very dull boy. Out of the blues, in the evening on Saturday, Benson called. I was shocked. He rarely calls me during the weekends. Except he wants to say hi or discuss office matters or gossip. Yes, men gossip too. Hahahaha…
But yesterday evening, he told me that he was in my area and he was off to an eatery to get something to eat. Sharp, sharp, I made myself available. Who dey reject free food? He came to pick me up and we went to one of the eateries around.
I ate to my fill and packaged some takeaways. Mine oh mine, I had some fun. This Benson couldn’t keep his eyes off me. I don’t blame him sha, I was looking breathtakingly indomicious. Trust me. I was casually dressed, but attractive from hair to shoes. I am pretty sure that the guy is already calculating his next strategy. This guy is going to pop the question pretty soon. He is going to ask me out sooner than I think. Let’s wait till then. I will know how to handle the situation when it comes to play. Let me not put the cart before the horse.
Benson dropped me at the gate and when I walked into the compound, I met the landlord, Chief Gboyega Daniels, screaming at the top of his lungs and ordering every tenant that hasn’t paid their rent to come out and face him. Thank God I have completed the payment of my rent. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid. The embarrassment, the harassment, the shame.
I passed by and went straight to my abode, then watched the action from my window. Soon, a fight ensued between the landlord and some of the male tenants. There was exchange of harsh words and the landlord began to make weighty threats. Threats that did not go beyond eviction from the house.
During the commotion, my siblings called. They were heading to my mum’s place and they wanted me to come along. I could have declined. But I decided to follow them. If I didn’t, mumsie will kill me with phone calls and text messages during the coming week. I am in no mood for her shenanigans, tomfooleries or archaic antics.
The visit began well and after we’ve all eaten her delicious food, it metamorphosed into a lecture class before you can say Jack Robinson. My mum wanted to know why we were not married. She was not happy that I was 28 and I didn’t have a boyfriend. My brother who was thirty-one had not brought anyone girl home since his youth service days and my sister who was a year older was in no relationship.
My elder brother feigned that he was receiving a phone call. He stepped out of the flat and he absconded. My sister excused herself moments later, on the pretense that she had an important errand to run for her boss. My siblings deserted me. They both left me to deal with our mum, alone. They left me to face the tigress. Who does that? The next time those two want me to tag along on a visit to mumsie’s place, I will just say no.
Mumsie sef. That woman is something else entirely. Somebody cannot visit her in peace. If you don’t visit, trouble. And when you visit, double trouble. I will just alienate myself from her for now. Her own is too much.
When I came home from my mum’s place, I met Sam and a young lady at the gate. I am not sure that I have seen her before. By the time I got to my door, I overheard Cassandra and Itoro discussing how they found out that the lady Sam was seeing off was one of the choristers in his church. She visits him like once in a week. They both assumed that they were dating.
Ah! han! Information Ministers! I shook my head and unlocked my door. What’s my own? What do I care? If they date, fine. If they don’t, fine. It is his life. He can live it whichever way it pleases him.
Back here, in my comfy room, seated on my comfy settee, writing in my comfy diary, it’s time for me to go to bed. Tomorrow is Monday. I am not looking forward to going to work, but I do not have a choice. I gats to go. Bills need to be paid and I cannot come and die of boredom.
I think I had a good weekend, minus the visit to mum’s place. I am looking forward to next weekend. I know it is going to be a blast.
All right diary. I am yawning now.
Night, night. Maybe I will write tomorrow…
Later…
Hugs and Kisses!

SASSY AND SLAYING: DIARY OF A SINGLE NAIJA BABE

EPISODE THREE

Dear Diary,
January 11, 2016.
Today is Sunday. I didn’t go to church this morning. I can’t remember the last time I went to church. I think it’s over a month or two ago or maybe three months ago.
Sam, the S.U brother living in my compound has invited me to his church for one program or the other, countless times. And I have posted him times without number. The last time he invited me for a Singles program, I told him I would come. But, I didn’t bother to show up. I think he was angry with me because he didn’t greet me for like a week. What do I care? Church programs aren’t my thing. I can’t sit in one place for over an hour watching people pray as if their lives was going to end or watch them dance to songs that has no head or tail, songs that lack rhythm. I am not a stranger to these things. Been there, done that. No more for now.
It is not by force to go to church on Sundays. When I was younger, it was a most. It was over-compulsory. My parents would wake us up very early on Sunday mornings, give us hurried baths, stuff bread and butter in our mouths and drag us off to church. I hated those mornings with a passion. Sometimes, I doze off in the children’s church. Sometimes, I participate in the singing and dancing. Other times, I just sit there looking at everyone else. In my teens, we started sitting in the main church with our parents. It was always so boring. I would count the seconds, minutes, and the torturous hours till we gladly leave for home.
When I got into the university, I was finally free. Free to do as I wished. I rarely attended fellowships at school. I lived my life. But on holidays, I had to follow my parents to church once again. No wonder I was so happy when I finally moved out. Nothing compares to living on your own and doing your own thing. The freedom is exhilarating. Although sometimes, the loneliness can be overbearing. But, with a few distractions here and there, one can get by.

The story continues...

PrudySara:
Wow.... SheWrites is back. My condolences on the death of your dad.
Lovely story... Ann2012, you're really MTN��

*hugs* thanks

SASSY AND SLAYING: DIARY OF A SINGLE NAIJA BABE

EPISODE TWO

January 9th, 2016.

Dear Diary,

Here I am, seated here on my comfy bed. My back against two large soft pillows, diary on the bed, while I scribble away.

It’s past nine, the weather is a bit chilly, probably because it rained most part of the day. How often does it rain in January? Almost never in some parts of the country. But, this is Lagos and s*ht happens. Still trying hard not to use vulgar words. Victory will be mine one day soon.

My blanket is keeping me warm by the way. I’ve got a big mug of tea right here too. Milo plus peak milk plus three spoons of sugar plus very hot water equals tea. Creamy chocolate tea or is it beverage they call it now? Anyhow, this is a very milky and sugary something and I am so enjoying myself.

I had a very busy day at work today. Mrs. Nkiruka kept us all on our toes. She was just dishing out orders as if the sun will not set today. At one time, she threatened to suspend all of us without pay. I was mad. Who does she even think she is sef? Why all this craziness? Is she the only General Manager in the whole of Lagos? If I was in her shoes, I won’t treat my staff this way. I will more cautious and… and what’s the word now? Sensitive? Yes, sensitive. Sensitive to their emotions. After all, we are all human beings. Blood flows through each of our veins.

Nevertheless, thank God today is Friday. I am not going to work tomorrow! Eureka! Hallelujah! I am so, so happy right now. Thank God we do not work during the weekends, except during the quarterly general meetings.

This weekend, I will probably sleep in. I will do my laundry in the morning, arrange and iron the clothes I want to wear to work next week, go to the market and cook in the afternoon, then return to bed. Maybe later in the evening, I will watch some of the action series and soap operas I have in my flash drive. One of the I.T guys at the office helped me to download some movies and series into the drive. My weekend is so complete.

When I got home today, I think around past eight or so, I was knocked out physically. I dreaded making dinner initially, but Benson took care of dinner. He stopped by at an eatery on our way home today. He was hungry and he decided to get himself some food and he offered to get some for me too. I thanked my stars in that joyous moment.

Once in a while, he dropped me off at the junction opposite my street. The junction interlocks with the road leading to his own area. If it was left to him, he would pick me up and drop me off every day, but he leaves for work earlier than I do and he closes one or two hours after I must have left. But, on a few occasion like today, we closed at the same time.

My dinner of fried rice, salad and chicken was lit! I enjoyed myself. God bless you real good Benson! You should have seen the way he was stealing glances at him during our drive home. Na wa o. This guy is so, so into me. I am keeping my fingers crossed as I await how things will eventually unfold.

Diary, guess who I saw when I returned home from work this evening? It was Itoro and Timi o. The live-in-lovers were seated outside their apartment, acting lovey-dovey! What did I tell you, diary yesterday? One moment they will fight and the next they will reconcile. One would have thought that they would have broken up and gone their separate ways by now, but no! They are still here together like super glue and ... and what can I compare them with now? Super glue and paper or whatever.

The bottom line is that they were kissing and smooching and the likes, right outside their apartment and in broad day light. Okay, not quite. The sun had already set when I arrived, so, I caught them under the moon light.

Nonetheless, I was infuriated by their pretentious display. I am not jealous. God forbid! Their kind of relationship is something I can never wish on my worst enemy. Who are they trying to deceive anyway? Definitely not me. Everyone living in the compound have seen them for what they truly are. We all know that in the next three, four days, they would be at it again. Fighting, throwing punches and cursing their generations unborn.

Let’s leave this people and face our own matter, jare. Back to Benson. God will continually bless that bobo for me. But, you know what, awoof dey run belle sha. What happens when he finally asks me out? He is not my type. He is physically okay-ish. He is tall enough. I am 5’8 and he is 5’9. I like my men taller than I am. Any man that is shorter than I am cannot get my attention. No apologies here. Maybe I might change my mind if he is the President of the United States. Story-story. I also like my men muscular and fit. Skinny men are a no-no for me.

Benson is in-between skinny and muscular. He is just there physically sha. Facially, he is cute. He is kind and not too firm. I like my men to be men. Men who are girlish, men who find it hard to say no, they are a no-no for me. Benson is in-between being girlish and being too soft.

I don’t mind having a guy at my beck and call, but I also want him to be able to take charge. I don’t want someone that will do all my bidding without blinking twice. Benson will go out of his way to do things for me. He will never say no to me, even if it will inconvenience him. These are good qualities, but, I might end up manipulating him. If I have to date him, I want him to be fully in charge. I want him to be immune to my charms.

But, judging from our working relationship, I doubt if he would be able to correct me without looking at my face. I am not sure he can tell me the truth, knowing fully well that it might hurt me. This guy will bend the truth just for my sake. Just because he is enamoured with me and he doesn’t want to hurt me.

Oh lord… I have been in different relationships over the years. I have tasted the good, the bad and the ugly. For now, I want to start on a clean slate. I am twenty-eight for Pete’s sake. I cannot afford to play away my life. I want what I want. And that’s that. Shikena. Finito. C’est fini. QED.

So, dairy, in a nutshell, I cannot manage Benson. That will be unfair to him. I don’t want to start something I am not willing to finish.

Oh my... What am I even writing for heaven sake? The guy has not asked me out and I am here blabbing. Yes, I know. It is written all over his face. But, there are some guys that, no matter how much they send you non-verbal messages, they will never act on it. You know they like you. You know they want you. But, you will be shocked when they go after another girl right before your eyes. Scallywags!

I think I have talked about my entire day. One more thing, I think Clara is jealous. Remember the number two slay queen in my office? Clara often wishes that she was the one in my shoes. She once boasted that if she was the one Benson was drooling over, she would have cleaned him out by now. She would use his fondness for her as a weapon and lick his pockets dry.
Shameless girl. I am not that kind of girl. I am not a leech. Or a parasite. I am done with that kind of life. I do not take advantage of men anymore, for whatever reason. Especially when I know that they are crushing over me.

These days, I play it safe and I play smart.

I pretty hope my prince charming will find me before I turn 30. I will love to be married on or before 30. At least, between 30 and 35, I should have dropped two kids, at most three. Male and female. As God would have it.

I believe in God. I know he exists and all that. I was born into a Christian home. But, I don’t carry Jesus on my head like a load or burden. I live my life and God takes care of everything else from yonder. I don’t need to go to church every Sunday to prove that I believe in God. I know he sees my heart. I think we have an understanding. I do my thing and he does his. We simply co-exist.

I am feeling drowsy. I have yawned like ten times already.

Diary, we will chat tomorrow. Need some sleep now.

Looking forward to a beautiful weekend.

Night-night, diary.

Hugs and kisses.

Morning my favourite peeps The story continues today.

Divepen1:
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Very interesting...

Dammykrone:
Well, E Dey Do Me Like Oliver Twist. This Is Why I Love Your Stories, So Interesting. Well Done Ma'am

Hahahaha...
Thanks jare

queenitee:
Awwn, I love this already.
I once tried owning a diary, but ko work

hahaha... I used to have diaries too, but I keep destroying them... then the troubling part of hiding it from my siblings... too much wahala...

Ann2012:
Interesting....doing me like Oliver Twist

Well done ma'am

Lol...

SASSY AND SLAYING: DIARY OF A SINGLE NAIJA BABE

EPISODE ONE

Dear Diary,

January, 8th, 2016.

Hi… don’t really know how to start. Can’t remember the last time I owned or wrote in a diary. It feels kind of strange, yet… exhilarating. I think I am really going to enjoy doing this. I am laughing right now. How do I even write that? Hahahaha… or *laughing*.

I am in here, in my self-contained apartment. An 8 by 12 feet room, small space abi? The size of the kitchen and bathroom cum toilet make up for the small space, I think. At least, I don’t feel like I am living in a sardine can. I live in a building with eight apartments, mine included. The landlord, Chief Gboyega Daniels, a man with the biggest pot belly I have seen in a long time, can be a pest when he wants to be. He also has a foul-mouth and can spew a lot of rubbish per second. Thank God my rent for this year is almost complete. I won’t be facing his wrath this year and I am so, so happy.

My neighbours are… let’s start with the people opposite my apartment. It’s owned by Itoro and Timi. I don’t know whose apartment it is, whether the girl or the guy. But, they live together. Live-in-lovers. That kind of arrangement seem to be working for them. I am not sure I can live with a man for that number of months, talk about years, without the payment of my bride price. Who dash monkey banana? When a man don see you finish, what’s the possibility that he will still marry you?

The others are, an SU brother, Sam. He is always singing and praying violently in his room, then Nasir, a bloke, one of the handsomest men in the compound. They are both single. Then Princess, the number two slay queen in the compound, remember, I am number one. Anywhere, anytime. Followed by Cassandra, they are both single. Then a married couple, Thomas and Ivie. I don’t know how long they have been married, but, they do not have a child. The last apartment, I don’t remember who lives there. Not sure I have met the person. I think I heard Cassandra telling Itoro that the guy or lady who lived in that apartment leaves the house very early in the morning and returns very late at night. Who cares? Minding my own business here.

I just finished downing several lumps of yellow garri, dipped in a delicious, tasty, finger-licking melon soup, garnished with assorted beef. Still chilling with a pack of Hollandia Yoghurt drink to wash down the meal. You know what I mean. *winks*

I’ve got a few strands of meat stuck in my teeth and this toothpick I am holding is lazy. Common meat, it cannot remove. Tried using my tongue and fingers, but nothing is working. I once saw a friend use a thread. You know the thread used to sow clothes? That’s the one. She said it works like that thing… what’s the name now? Can’t remember.

She said it works like that thread-like thing those Oyinbo people use to remove things in their teeth. Maybe I will try it. Need to get these meaty terrorists out of my teeth. It’s beginning to hurt. Where did I put my thread and needle? Can’t even remember the last time I used it. Give me a moment, I will be right back…

Okay. Am back. Found the thread. Where was I?

I clocked 28 a few days ago and amongst the gifts my colleagues at work gave to me, I found a black leathered diary with pinkish pages. I wanted to use it as a jotter, but, later decided to put down my thoughts in the smooth pages of the diary.

Here I am, doing just that.

As a young lady, at 28… I can call myself a young lady, right? Even at 28? Who cares anyway? I am a young lady, single, searching… not really searching, but waiting to be found by my Prince Charming. Awaiting the day, I would be swept off my feet by some hulk of a man. Preferably, a TDH or a TFH (TDH- Tall Dark and Handsome, TFH- Tall Fair and Handsome). I like my men dark, but I don’t mind the lighter shade either. I like them muscular and all that. Will never go near a skinny man. A bag of bones is definitely not my thing.

I came back from work an hour and half ago, or maybe an hour and forty-five or forty-six, seven or eight minutes ago. Sitting in front of my 32’ television, watching one of my favourite channels, preparing to hit the sack in an hour or less, or more, depending on when my eyes becomes drowsy.

Work was fine. Kind of fine. I don’t like my boss. My boss is a ‘She’. Mrs. Nkiruka Eze is my boss and I don’t like her one bit. She has her good sides, but, 90% of the time, she is a terrorist. An unrepentant slave master who doesn’t give the… the… trying to mind my language here. I made a promise to myself to stop using swear words, like the F***, the M**F**, the B**, the S** and the likes. You grab what I mean, right? So, she doesn’t give the *^%&$#* about what happens to you, as long as her work is done. That’s all that matters to her, the work and nothing else.

Enough about her. My colleagues made my day some days ago, when I celebrated my birthday. Didn’t really celebrate it. I just told them a week before that my birthday was coming up and they surprised me. Including Mrs. Nkiruka. Can you believe it? She was the one that gave me the black leathered diary. Cool, right? My people, the trio I share an office with, Benson, Clara and Steve, we are the team in the Administrative section of the company with Mrs. Nkiruka as our direct boss. She is the company’s General Manager.

So, my people surprised me with a very delicious butter creamed cake, the leftover is still in my refrigerator. They also showered me with gifts. Benson gave me perfumes, roll-ons, and body sprays. The expensive kind, with branded names. The guy knows his onions. I also know that he spent that amount of money on me because it was common knowledge that he had a crush on me. Since the very day I started to work at Skylight Properties, he’s had his eyes on me. One day, I know he will sum up the courage to ask me out and I don’t know what my answer would be. He is not my type. He is a softy, too soft for my liking. Let’s wait till he asks me out.

Clara, the number two slay queen in our office, I am the unchallenged slay queen number one. She gave me fancy bras and undies. That girl get taste sha. Can’t believe she actually spent that kind of cash on me. And even Steve, the only married one amongst us, aside Mrs. Nkiruka, he transferred airtime to my phone lines and gave me an envelope with ten-thousand-naira cash in it! I’ve got good people around me, right?

Wait… hold on… I just heard something.

The noise is coming from next door.

I am not so sure.

Wait, let me check, I will be right back…

Hey! I’m back… the noise was coming from Itoro and Timi’s apartment. They are fighting. Shouting at each other and exchanging blows. This is not their first time. In the past, someone or some people would have interfered, but after getting inflicted with cuts and bruises in the name of separating those two, people started to ignore them. Now, everyone locks their doors when they start their wrestling match. Myself included.
The live-in-lovers are at it again. Nwankego Okechukwu here, reporting from house 4, Palm Avenue, Mushin, Lagos. Can’t stop laughing. Wait, I am going back to the window. Taking my diary along.

Ha! This girl can fight o! He slaps her, she slaps him back. He punches her, she throws her own punches. She is giving it back hot as it is coming. I don’t envy her at all. I am no fighter, physically anyway. But I can run my mouth. That doesn’t mean if you slap me, I won’t punch you in return. Slap me once and you will be given back in the same quantity, with extras. That’s me. I cannot come and be a dullard for Lagos.

Hey! She pushed him out of their apartment. The two lovers are struggling. Who is going to win? The silly thing about them is that, at the end of the day, they will still go back into that their room and sleep. Then wake up tomorrow morning and start acting lovey-dovey. Who does that? They fit themselves. They are simply made for each other.

Oooh! He has torn her blouse. Hey! Look at her watermelons o! Everything is outside. That’s the thing about fighting a man. A woman is always at a disadvantage. If you tear his shirt, nothing happens. But if he tears your blouse, you get exposed. Not fair.

Aah! He has pushed her back into the apartment. Now the door is shut. We have come to the end of this entertaining news. Reporting once again from House 4 headquarters, it’s your girl, Nwankego Okechukwu. See you all next week.

Mad people! I’m back on my bed, the noise continues. I don’t care. If they like, they should kill themselves. Let’s round up our yarns for today. Feeling sleepy already. I don’t feel like going to work tomorrow, but if I don’t show up, Mrs. Nkiruka will suspend me. She is that mean. She punishes before she asks for your lame or genuine excuses.

Yea… my full name is Nwankego Queen Okechukwu. You can call me Ego. I am 28, approaching 29 and I don’t find it funny. Already dreading the next family occasion. Tired of being harassed by my mum’s inquisitive and angry stares.

“Go and marry Ego, biko.”

She can go on for hours. As if I am the only single lady in the family. My elder sister, Adanne, and my brother, Ugochukwu, are single too. I am the last child and she keeps disturbing me as if we were born on the same day. Thank God we don’t live together anymore.

I left home immediately after my service year. I almost went back when my dad passed on that same year. But, thank God I didn’t. My mum, a retired principal, a pensioner, living in a two-bedroom flat, ran a cold-store in one of the shops, outside the building. That keeps her busy, until she starts to miss us, then the daily phone calls commence, until we all visit her.

Her birthday is coming up soon and my sister wants us to plan a surprise party. I’m game for it. Let’s make the woman happy. But, hopefully, she won’t turn it into a family meeting and start to harass us because of our single status. Till then anyway.

*Yawns* I am sleepy now. Got to go diary.

It’s being a pleasure writing in this pinkish volume of goodness.

I feel better. I think this is therapeutic. I should do this often. *Yawns again*

Night, night diary… see you tomorrow, If I can… or next tomorrow.

*hugs and kisses*

Ann2012:
Expecting it
Welcome back ma'am

*hugs*

Happy Holidays everyone.
Update begins this week.
I miss you all too *hugs&kisses*
Enjoy your day.

Ted Dekker books
Frank Perretti
Francine Rivers
Karen Kingsbury

Hi, I need 'Battlefield of The Mind' by Joyce Meyer
and all the novels of Ted Dekker

Treasure17:
Fascinating story you have here sheWrites. Please mention me in your next write-up. Thanks

Okay.

You can check out my profile for all my stories.

Everyone who wants to read this complete story can read it on the front page of the literature section.

Enjoy.

You can also get your own copy on
www.okadabooks.com/user/serahiyare
@N250

My story is being reposted by a naughty somebody.
Mods pls take action.

You are posting one of my stories nairaland.com/3425755/heartstrings
mods pls take actions