Showing posts with label simi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label simi. Show all posts

Sunday, March 9, 2014

I love you, Daddy...


Dear Readalot,

I have been putting off writing for quite a bit now. For the life of me, I had no idea that it would be the passing of my father that would bring me here. I should probably apologize in advance, because I doubt I have anything funny to say tonight.

Last night, I heard my mum scream. I love my mother to bits and I worry about her more than she worries about herself. So, I ran into her room to find out what could have happened.

She was on the phone. From her tone and gestures, I knew something bad had happened. However, I thought this bad thing had happened to someone else. I waited for her to be done with her call. Before I could ask what happened, she said; "Your daddy is dead."

I can't exactly recall the first few emotions that I felt. I only know that the earth seemed to spin a little.

My parents separated when I was nine years old. I stayed with my mum. For more than half my life, I wasn't really close to my dad. Life, in it's uncanny manner, made us drift apart.

When I was a kid, my dad spoilt us kids rotten. There was almost nothing he wouldn't do for his kids. He was a workaholic. Sadly, this was one of the things that did damage to my parents' marriage. But, undeniably, irrevocably, my father loved his children.

My father was not perfect. No one is, really.

But I didn't care. I don't care. Life throws so much bullshit at us. Sometimes, we catch it and throw it right back. Other times, it hits us and throws us down and bruises us. It bruised my daddy. It hurts me so much that it did.

I'm probably babbling a lot. What I'm trying to say is that I loved my daddy. Very much. I'm sorry for all the times I could have been a better daughter and I wasn't. I'm just trying to make sure it's recorded somewhere. Here. That I love my daddy. And I know that he loved and loves me too.

            1948 -2014

Charles Oladele Ogunleye, you're in my heart….now…always. 


Yours truly, Simi.

PS: I found my brother's article this morning. 
http://rainbowspotholes.wordpress.com/2014/03/09/the-night-my-father-died/


Friday, December 6, 2013

Mandela...and others


Dear Readalot,


I'm not even sure when last I wrote you. I apologize. Small. Because you didn't ask of me.

Lagos, being Lagos, plenty has happened. Many, I have forgotten. Many, I don't care about. As you might have guessed, this will be one of those rant-about-pretty-much-anything days.

Monday, September 30, 2013

The Adventures Of A Fresh Babe

Dear Readalot,

So, I went to the dental clinic today. It was a visit that should have happened long ago because I needed to go fix something in one of my teeth.

I was apprehensive as heck. I don't like hospitals or the smell of them. Never have. Never will. Fortunately for me, a very nice student doctor was assigned to me. This is a big deal because, anytime a mean person attends to me in a hospital, I feel emotionally violated. 'Sick' people ought to be pampered. Spoiled. Doted on.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Which Daddy?

My mum has always been very very energetic. As far back as I can remember, she would wake up like 5am every other morning and exercise. I guess I used to enjoy watching her because I figured that if I watched her, I was automatically exercising too. Or something stupid like that.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Roi Boi

Dear Readalot,

I'm here silently praying you don't find another internet lover to replace me. Because I'm not committed or dedicated. :)

A lo has happened. Too much, actually. So today is rant-about-whatever day.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Motor Car

Dear Readalot,


Once upon a time, my mum sent me and my sister to the bank. Luckily, the bank is a short walk from the house. So we walked to the bank. We stood in line and waited our turn.

About 5 minutes after we got there, one of the bank security guards came in and asked for the owner of some car to go repark. I think it was a Benz. Can't remember. Anyway, I looked at my sis and said;

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Kenya West

Dear Readalot,

Just this morning, my sis and I were eating breakfast and watching E! A couple of funny 'Aboki' men were cutting the grass in our backyard. They had been joking around with us since they got to the house. They even asked to cook rice and stew for them..

Suddenly we heard a loud noise from out back. We rushed to the back to find out what happened. My sister asked them;

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Hug Transformer!

Dear Readalot,

I have failed you in a way. I haven't posted anything for over a month. I have an excuse. A good one. What happened was...

I had this conference in Dubai and we were stuck on the plane for like 2 weeks because the door wouldn't open. The pilot started to rap. Then one of the air-hostesses joined with the chorus. 

Saturday, March 2, 2013

LMOL!!!



Dear Readalot,


I went to Ikeja yesterday. On my way back, some guy stepped up to me and my friend.

GUY: You want to braid your hair?
ME: Nope
GUY: I'll do it well na.
ME: I'm ok. Don't worry.
GUY: What about pink lips? Come and do pink lips.
ME: *eyebrow raised* you say what?
GUY: Pink lips. Very fine. Let me show you picture.
MY FRIEND: I already have pink lips.
GUY: This one you'll have pink lips forever.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Wad Up Dearie?



Dear Readalot,

It's been a little longer than a while. I've missed you and the vain side of me hopes you have missed me too and that you've lost sleep waiting for me. Forgive my vanity, I'm working on it.

So many interesting things have happened these past few weeks. I can remember some of them, I have forgotten most. The one most vivid in my mind at the moment is my experience at Darey's concert, Love Like A Movie.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Talent Hunters

Dear Readalot,

There's probably something you think you're really good at. A talent. A talent is something you know how to do very well. It's also something you enjoy doing and probably will do for free. (Please don't check Webster's dictionary to confirm my definition. You will be disappointed.)

Friday, January 4, 2013

I'm Not Doing...

Dear Readalot,

I'm not sure if I have issues or if it's everyone else.

I told you in my last post that my mum tried for years to matchmake her children to no avail. I also mentioned she gave up after a while. Well, I was wrong. She didn't give up. She passed the responsibility of matchmaking to her sister, my aunt. I'm not self-centered or anything, so this story is not about me.

Monday, December 31, 2012

Aunty Shola

Dear Readalot,


As far back as I can remember, my mum has been a strong woman. So strong, she can literally carry the world on her shoulders. She can shift mountains. Take on king kong etc... She just never does any of these because she doesn't want paparazzi to invade her family's privacy and everything.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Pishaun

Dear Readalot,

I've been in the States for close to four months now. Four months without NEPA. Without MTN. Without POTHOLES. Without GEJ. What else could anyone possibly ask for? Not much. My mum told me not to come back home as there has been peace at home since I left. I asked her who I should give the shoes I was planning to bring back to her. She changed her mind and said I can return for about 2 days with her shoes- and then leave again. Motherly love? Anyways, since I got here, most of the things I used to worry about, I haven't worried about in a while. I have even escaped insult. My brother still tells me regularly that I'm adopted, but now, he only does it on twitter.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Poor and Famous

Dear Readalot


Fame is one those things that a lot of people wanna attain. People want to walk on the streets and be  acknowledged. "I know that guy na." When you're famous, people want to associate with you more. They want other people to know that they know you.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

I #Poko You


Dear Readalot,

I love you. Kinna. Maybe. Ugh!! I don't know. Let me think about it.
_________________________________

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Eve



Dear Readalot,


Girls are not very likable. They seem to have the incredible ability to be disliked. If you like a girl, it's either she's pretending or she has jazzed you. Most likely.

Boys don't like girls. Girls don't like girls.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Mortal Kombat

Dear Readalot,

I'd like to tell a tale of warriors...

______________________________


Vexalot tears his shirt and beats his chest like a chimpanzee. He runs around with his eyes wide. He's unbelievably angry. He points at the piece of scum in front of him;

Thursday, September 13, 2012

World Wonders


Dear Readalot,

There are things that I think about sometimes. Things that amaze me. Or just plain confuse me. We all have our "Moments Of wonder". However, these are mine.


Friday, September 7, 2012

24 Boyfriends!

Dear Readalot,

My mum really liked me as a kid. She might have even loved me -_-. She was proud of me and bragged about me to whoever would care to listen. She had great reason to. Her only daughter, her last born, her little princess happened to know book. Yes! I try small.

I was a sharp kid. A small girl with a pretty okay brain. Considering all of this, my mum made what I refer to as one of the biggest mistakes of both our lives. She pulled me out of primary school after primary five.

I had written the common entrance exams with those that were my seniors by a year and I had passed. I was nine years old, as small as nature would allow and spoiled. I was a very spoiled kid. So with all these talents of mine, I was shipped off to boarding school. Federal Government College, Benin.

I remember asking my dad, "Daddy, when will I leave the school?"
My dad answered, "After J.S.S 3."
"Daddy nooooo." I screamed. "I want to stay until S.S.3."
"Eyaaaa." You said.

Anyway, my dad's driver drove me off to school that day. I had never been away from my parents before in that manner. I was mighty excited. If for nothing else, to be away from my brother. At that point in my life, I was already a permanent punching bag.

After a few days of hard bunk-beds and horrible food, the excitement was starting to dwindle. I felt like it wasn't all that after all. I had to wash, feed, bath, dress myself. Why always me?!?! Also, school was really far from home so, my parents couldn't come to see me as often as I would have liked.

So, I struggled to survive. I was tired of struggling. I didn't really like anybody. I doubt if anyone really liked me. Except for this one girl.

She was really small like me and light skinned. She would always come around to my room to look for me. Ask about me from everyone. she wanted to be friends. Great, right??? No. not great. Houston, we had a very big problem.

She was a witch. Okay, I should rephrase that. They said she was a witch. According to my sources, every holiday, when every other student goes home for the holiday, she goes to her spirit world. *insert zulu zulu  music*. They said she didn't have any parents and that she was just a spirit looking for a err...person to spirit-ify along with her.

This same babe wanted to be friends. I avoided her to no avail. I couldn't afford to be mean to her because you no know as witch dey take operate when they vex. She kept coming back.

I left for the first term holiday. I didn't go back. When I got home, I told my father, "Daddy I'm not going to anywhere oh. Witch is following me." So much for waiting till S.S.3.

For my second term, I resumed in another federal school. Federal Govt. girls college, Sagamu. Being here was a lot more bearable. I actually had friends. My parents came to see me as often as possible.

Here, I was a non-conformist. I talked to all my seniors anyhow. I didn't do anything they asked me to do. I disliked almost all my teachers. It was fun :). However, there was a problem. A big one.

After I was done with J.S.S 2, I got my result and a myth was exposed. I didn't know book after all. The red that decorated my report card was enough to decorate all the houses on one street for Christmas. I had repeated the class. Funny thing is this actually stuned a lot of my classmates. One of the class not-so-smarts walked up to me and asked, "What happened na? You used to ask plenty questions in class oh. What happened?" I probably would have slapped her, but she was bigger than me.

I sat by myself for hours and saw different pictures and scenarios of my mum sending me home to be with the Lord. I asked myself over and over if I was ready for heaven. Can't remember if i was then.

I knew I had to strategise. My dad's driver came to get me from school for the holidays. I showed him the result and told him to help me beg my mum to let me live long. I was horrified. We went home.

Until I graduated from secondary school, my mum rubbed it in my face. She said she wonders why she ever thought I knew book in the first place. I had always wondered that too.

I changed schools again.

This time, I went to this private school from home everyday. Life was so much easier. When your mum is on your case with a belt or pair of slippers everyday, of course life will be easier. This time around, I was something of a local champion. My English teacher thought I was adorable because I used to form English-Speaker. Thing is, people only think you have an accent because they don't understand you. Even if you're saying nonsense.

My classmates didn't like me much. Especially the girls. I happened to be stealing the affection of all their boyfriends. *insert Wash music*.

I remember when I was in J.S.2, I had this senior in S.S.2 who used to come and look for me. I had fans. I also had haters. However, through all this, I was a novice. I could talk my way into and out of anything so they all thought I was an ogbologbo *meaning Pro - well I hope that's what it means*. Anyways, I wasn't an ogbologbo.

I remember one guy came from a sister school to meet me. "Simi" He said. "Is it true you have 24 boyfriends?"

#Pause

"Huh?" I asked.
"I said I heard you have 24 boyfriends. Is it true?"
"Oh that? I haven't heard about it yet. But thanks for telling me." I said,smiling and walked away.

At that point, I had never even had a boyfriend. Nonetheless, I had a theory. The more you try to quench a rumour, the more you spread it. So, I embraced it.

Some of my teachers adored me. I was pretty adorable. *insert eyelashes*. The others didn't like me much. My Biology teacher, for instance - She probably hated me. Hate is a strong word, so I shouldn't say that. She might have despised me. She was booooooring. I hated Biology. I hated the class. the teacher was boooooooring. Okay, I said that before. Very boring, by the way.

My Math teacher sort of liked me. Sort of didn't. I was the kid whose name was on every noise-maker list. No matter what I did, or didn't do, my name made all the lists. So, I didn't even bother trying. I would just go "Please, write my name now. I want to gist." One day, my Math teacher came to class. He had this thick glasses he used to wear. Unbelievably thick. Truth is, he was an incredibly brilliant man. However, I was an incredibly troublesome child.

He had warned everyone to stop making noise. "Shatap! Shatap!" He said. I kept talking. I had this gist I had to get out of me or I might have blown with the info. It was a life threatening matter, you see. Unavoidable. After he had warned people for the umpteenth time, he called me. "Simi, I said stop talking. You don't listen." I said "Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were talking to me. I didn't see your eyes." Remember the thick glasses. Okay, I didn't say it loud enough for him to hear, but my classmates heard and laughed. I guess what irritated him the most was that he asked me a question about what he had been teaching and I got the answer right.

Fortunately, I started knowing book again, small small. My mum had learned her lesson though. She didn't brag about me again. Good thing too, because once they asked, "What's the noun for Supreme." Oversabi, Oluwarantalot shouted, "Supremity"

Perhaps, if my parents had taken me to one of those schools where you get a free ipad and laptop, I would never have failed anything. If they had taken me where we went to sea-school every summer, I would have been a genius. I blame my parents for every red biro mark on my report cards. I wasn't in the best environment. Nobody could possibly function properly seating on wooden chairs.

Anyways, I did the best with what I had. Also, I always said I intentionally failde that class that I did. I felt I was moving too fast. I needed to slow down and enjoy life :)

I dedicate this post to all the boyfriends I didn't steal. God Go Make You Bigger.


Yours truly, Rantalot