So sorry!

hey. wats up y'all?? im so sorry ive not been here for a while. i really have no excuse.whatever jo. ive had two other posts that i was meant to put up but i couldn't finish them and it wouldn't make any sense putting them up right now cos they were meant that particular moment.

i was in lagos last week for the american visa. left on monday evening.Got to lag, some guy dat had been staring at me throughout the flight, was chatting me up and asking if the girl(lady) wiv me was my mum. sure it was.my mum can pass for my sister. seriously, especially when she wears certain outfits like jeans unlike the wrapper and gele and all.During our stay in lag, my mum had to see someone in the british council concerning her colleague who he tried to help. the person had nt met her b4. we then get off in front of the building and my mum calls the guy.me, being a hand bag, i got off wiv her. the guy then tells her dat he's only allowed one visitor, so we cant come inside but he'll come outside to see us. we were then waiting outside, i saw this guy come outta the building, searching for someone and im like "mummy he's the one". the man then gets his fone and starts making a call. at this point, i was really pissed cos, i knew he was the one and my mum refused to listen to me.my mums fone starts ringing, she picks it up, its d man, they look at each other for a while and keep turning around to search for themselves, i just stood there, really pissed.they start explaining their positions for each other until they finally saw themselves. we then get there and the man starts shining his 36 abi na how many self??.he then says dat he was expecting to see a very fat woman dat with two wrappers wrapped around her waist. he then goes further to tell me dat im really lucky to have a beautiful mother. im like yeah right, tell me something i dont know(okay y'all know i didnt say that out but my expressions said it all).watever jo.

The next day, we left the hotel by 8am, we searched all around lagos for a UBA bank to pay the visa fee, the driver didn't even know where any was. he could hardly even speak english language and we had him for the whole day (that was tough).My mum finally found a UBA bank, went in to pay, news flash, they do not accept dollars(it was written dat all payments should be in dollars), she didn't have up to the specified amount in cash, there was no Bureau de change anywhere around and it was cows and elephants (dry joke). the driver, had to give my mum the money, so she'll him back when she finds any bureau de change. watever. this gist is getting to boring self.

we got to the embassy at about 10am. at this point, the rain was worse. immediately I and my mum got outta d car with one dead umbrella, some boys just came to rush us and they were like "madam madam, passport, passport, original passport". i was kinda confused cos it was raining.these ibo boys (i could tell from the way they pronounced "naira"), then held one really large umbrella (that recharge card umbrella now. ehen dat 1) over my head and took abi na snapped the passport. long story short, the passport was very very UGLY. i looked like a "spider monkey".anyways, we then waited till 12pm for the drop-box to commence.

We didnt even know dat the drop box had started and people dat came after us were already on the line. so someone asked d security guard d first security guard and he said dat it wasnt his job(those idiots r so rude), the second guard came like 40 to 45minutes l8r. the same guy went up to him and asked, he then pointed to a line of about 50-something pple, my mum started screaming at me immediately. "run run, *insert name" ruuun". see girls start to do marathon oh, racing over hurdles and all. u know Olympics now how all those men/women dey almost tear their lap. ehen like dat. at this point, the rain was still falling heavily and she was the umbrella.so i ran under the rain while she stood where there was shelter. jokes apart, i was the first person to join the other pple who were already on the line. im 6ft tall, im not really physically fit sha but still u know, i can run, well maybe. i turned and i saw someone taking her time, swinging her hips, left to right with an umbrella. my mum. God of mercy!, at least she for follow me run small now, so she then starts telling pple, “excuse me, my daughter’s in front”.
No phones, bottles, etc were allowed in there so I had to hold my mums bag and w8 while she went to drop off the passports and form and we were asked to return the next day by 6.30am. From there we went to freeman house, cos my mum wanted to do something there.

The next day, we left for the embassy and by 6.30, there was serious traffic in one area like dat. We got there a little past 7 and got in immediately cos there was no one on the “white-slip line”. we got in, the place was crowded ,. We saw two available seats and waited for our numbers to be called. 1 and my mum were 29 and 30 respectively but they were on no 95, so we actually thot they’ll get to 100 and start all over again.some guy then walked up to someone he knew behind and we heard him say he was the second person to arrive at the embassy and he had not been called and he was no 28, then started gossiping bout some certain senator dat was there and how they still go through the same process with us bla bla bla.

We were then called for finger printing abi na scanning? Abeg I dunno. The lady then shows me the spider monkey passport and asked if it was the correct pic. We were then asked to go to the inner room where we were to be interviewed. The senator and his wife, sat close to the no 28 aproko guy and the guy sat next to us and was yarning opata with my mum.they were about 5 different personnels conducting the interview, so were were called to the available one.

My mum then starts with her annoyin britico accent( I try pass her na). God abeg forgive me oh but the accent na old skool, some of y’all would feel me on this one.the lady then asks certain questions like “wats d longest u’ve ever stayed in america”, she then asks “who do u stay wiv and do u have any relations there?”. na so my mama come start oh. Yes, I have my sister there, my daughter is there too shes in *insert skool*(them nor ask her which skool oh ),*insert age*(okay she really didn’t say this one), but she just went on and on. At the end of the day, she stamped the old visa with “cancelled without prejudice” at this point I just smiled. She then says we should come back on Monday for the passport. I was so glad cos I already pictured in my head how I was going to be refused a visa (I think im crazy or rather pessimistic sometimes).

At this point, we get into the car, my mum, the prayer warrior that she is starts cabashing. For my mind I say which one she come dey cabash again, just thank God and lets go. The driver just kept chewing on his rotten stick. We then set out for balogun market. That market is another story on its own. All these ibo boys kept grabbing me, shouting, sister, sweet heart, sweet girl, aunty,iyawo(who be iyawo??? Eh??), come now, buy from me.anyways, it turned out dat, I nw even know directions in the market more dan my mum.I feel its an achievement cos dat woman started going to dat market long b4 I was born (ok maybe not dat long).
We (actually my mum) finish from the market and go back to the hotel. The next day, I was supposed to meet up wiv someone but found out that he wasn’t gonna come. So I went wiv my mum to Woolworth in adeola-odekun (wrong spelling?? I nor be Yoruba oh!) to some pharmacy there. We then went to a spa in same building. My mum wanted to wax her eye-brows (only oh. Get ur mind outta d gutters) and I was to do mine too if hers turned out to be okay. We got there and this lady covered in tattoo said we should seat and w8. Gosh her tattoos were nasty! She even tattooed her eyebrows eeeew!!!. I know it looks nice sometimes but hers were just nasty. She looked like a witch. After so much w8ing, she then came back to tell us dat d person dat does d waxing had not resumed work for dat day. Okapari oh! Me and my mama just pack ourselves waka commot oh.


We then went back to balogun market. I tried my best to make my mum change her mind but she didn’t budge. We get there, she see apples, she buys like 100.ok. Im over exaggerating once again but she buys a lot.the conversation goes thus,

Me- u don’t have to buy a lot now and u know we cant check them in
Mum- don’t u know ill give some to *insert 100 names*, my boss, ur granfather and grandmum,the driver, ur aunties, uncles, *bla bla bla*
Me-(mother Christmas!!). Okay oh. Im just saying cos im not going to carry this by hand
Mum-*fling the bag in my hands*. Ill carry it.

I then start following her behind her yansh . All of a sudden, she stops and then asks, “which road leads to the market”??? arghhh. Abeg to cut d long story short, we then get into the market. We ended up buying nothing cos she didn’t see wat she was looking for. We then rush back to the hotel and leave for the airport immediately. We get to the airport, we were already seated after having serious issues wiv our ticket. The air hostess then asks I and my mum to seat in 1C/1D when wat was written on our ticket was 1D 4 me & 1F for my mum. There was no such thing as 1F on the wareva. Then one white girl comes and says that her seat no is 1C. She was just bring rude to my mum. In my mind I kept saying “I be jaguda(were, crase) oh I be jaguda oh!, nor try my mama oh”. anyways the airhostess then asks I and my mum to go to 2 vacant seats at the back. We got to *insert hometown*(oya guess, a place dat used to have so many militants) down and I was just so vexed dat I wanted to burst her head wiv oone bottle I saw there. I just picked up the bottle and was about to break it on her head. Guards were holding me back. Okay dry joke. Big lie, but the girl was so annoying. Anyways its so nice to be back home,my own bed and my computer(ill never leave this house wivout u ever again).

Blogville Idols!!! Blogville Idols!!!. Hmm I cant w8 for some pple to sing oh.

P.S: this post was supposed to be put up sometime last week. Cant even remember the day again.