Wednesday, 11 February 2009
I didnt think my next post would be today... Infact i was starting to think my next post would never happen. I dunno what happened to my inspiration to blog or read blogs; some of the blogs i absolutely loved to read jus went dead on me (U know urselves! lol) and then i just decided to stay away and see what would happen. I see some of you are back, some really different, some gone! Oh well, such is life eh?
Egbon mi, i dnt even knw what to say... but i guess i could start with hw r u?
Afrobabe, i was starting to think something happened to you, glad you are ok.
Unwritten, hw r u? Hw's school?
As for you, Chari & Buttercup! LMAO! so u hooked up eh? lol! I can't say i'm surprised. I'm happy for you guys though...hehe! I guess Efjay are no longer the only lovers in blogville. I see you are also downing the pain pills; the my lover is across the atlantic ocean ones. Hw r u holding up?
When jaybaba said he blogged, i though he meant a real post! lol! not a one liner!
Well... a lot has happened since we last blogged. We were both in lagos over xmas, it was really nice, i did not want to come back for loads of reasons; the most obvious being the fact that Jaybaba moved to lagos (as in relocated)...
So Afrobabe to answer your question, his baby is in England and my own baby is in Lagos!
Well... i'm still here... but not for long i graduate this year so i guess i'd be ok.
School is aite. I actually like the modules i'm taking this term, so that's working out ok.
Oh, well i have an essay to finish typing so i guess that would be it for now...
Oh, btw, what you guys up to vals day? Spill...
Hope everyone is having a great valentine's day...
This is a dedication to everyone...especially Chari and Buttercup
Lucky - Jason Mraz ft Colbie Caillat
Still waiting to hear what people got up to this val's day.
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Heeeyyyyyy People!!! LOng time o! We hvnt blogged in a month! we r sorry.... but then it looks like a lot of bloggers are suffering writers block...lol!
How's everyone doing? What did we miss? What's going on?
Ok so this isnt a real post, its like a mini update. We promise to blog soon. I have exams that start on monday so i've had my head buried in the books...
Its our blogville anniversary this month; 'efjay'- the blog is a year old!
Even better its our actual anniversary today; this day, couple years ago, we decided to be together...
Jaybaba is moving to nig in december...
We'd be back with all the details soon... promise!
Efbabe and Jaybaba
Monday, 27 October 2008
Heaven as written by a 17 Year Old Boy....
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told
his father, Bruce. It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teays Valley High School in Pickaway County .
Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them, notes from classmates and teachers, and his
homework. Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of
the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven.
It makes such an impact that people want to share it. "You feel like you are there," Mr. Moore said. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after
Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole.
He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted. .
The Moore 's framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.
Here is Brian's essay entitled "The Room."
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which
stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the
cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I
was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense
of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at."
Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents Often there were many more cards than expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the
life I had lived.
Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me.
One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards.
But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to
find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.
Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive.
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
Monday, 13 October 2008
It’s beautiful the way you look at me
Amazing is how you treat me like your very own
Never have I had a love so captivating
Never have I met one with a heart so enduring
Never have seen eyes so beautifully penetrating . . .
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
My last post was really long so i'd keep this one short and sweet.
Hey everyone! Hope no one's been ill like me... 'ef babe' hasnt been feeling very well, been back n forth hospital, had to tests and all, was in an ambulance and then the A&E last night...
I'm feeling a bit better than i did last night though... pray for me people.
Jaybaba is good, dissertation almost done.
Egbon mi has been doing posts about love and it got me thinking... So here goes...
Love makes you bare your soul to that person without holding back, it makes you trust them with your whole life because you know they'd guard it with theirs...
Love is what made my ma unable to sleep last night because she knew her baby was ill a thousand miles away...
Love is what made my brother run back home from miles away when he heard how awful i sounded on the fone and what made him spend the whole day with me at home and helped run all the errands i would have if i wasnt ill...
Love is what gave Jaybaba goose bumps as he listened to his baby wailing in pain...
Love is what makes a mother make the difficult choice to put her own dreams and aspiration on hold just so she can focus on giving her baby the best care possible...
"Love is a journey that knows no end" - unknown
Have a great week people!
Friday, 12 September 2008
Hey People! Hw's everyone doing? How've u guys been? Thanx everyone that has dropped by to check on us; (hey buttercup, thnx sis, i'm not doin too bad)
Jaybaba is doing good with his dissertation; Thank God for that! I have had so much crazy ass school work. In the last 2-3 weeks, i have had to turn in around 4 essays and i had to do a mock court trial as well. Plus i haven't been feeling very well the last week on top of that aunty flo decided to visit two days ago... Basically it's been crazy for me. All that is about to be history, i get a 2 week break from uni that starts today, (yay!!!) so i'm going home to london. I just need to rest and chill out and not worry about anything for a while.
The other day i was thinking i miss home, by 'home' i mean Lagos. I miss the stuff i saw growing up... like seeing the man hawking puff-puff(1) with his fork in hand... or the cobbler with his tool box walking down my street and hoping someone's shoes needed fixing, naija people call them 'shoemaker' and my ma called them 'so bata' sometimes, lol! (so bata; literally means fix shoes, its also used to describe one that fixes shoes)
I miss hearing stuff like "E ra epo e se be..."(2) from the girl hawking palm oil or "Fine butter bread" from the bread seller in the mornings just as the sun was rising... or "ICe water tutu reee"(3) from the kid hawking water tied in little plastic bags and chilled in the scorching sun. I miss going to the 'mallam'(4) to buy 'go-go' or 'm&k'(our own m&m's/smarties lol!). I also miss the days when, if you had #15(naira) you could buy a 25cl bottle of Coke and 'Okin biscuit'. LOL! I jus randomly remembered the three orange men from the miranda commercial! lol! I miss hearing the horn of the fan ice cream/yogurt man on his bike; i miss fan yogo and super yogo! lol!
I miss gala, la casera, Mr biggs(they still do the best meat pie in my opinion), I miss TFC; especially their 'yamarita'(if you havent tried it please do, its fried yam, fish and one sexy sauce made from tomatoes, onion and pepper), i miss their fried rice too and their salad too, i miss sweet sensation too, i miss 'chopsticks', i miss big treat, i miss buying grocery from 'osata' supermarket(opebi)...
When i was growing up, i loved sundays(now i don't because i know it means the weekend is over!lol). Sundays were nice, we got to spend time together as a family, we got to go church and sometimes we ate out after church. But i think my favourite thing about sundays was going to the market to buy food stuff after church. My mum did this on sundays because the market she bought most of her food from only opened sundays; 'It was called Sunday market', and it was in Ogba(I think its still there, the last time i checked it was sha).
People would probably think that i do not seem like the market type but i love markets; well food markets especially and trust me i have been to and I know quite a number of markets. Oya let us count; (1)(Ogba)Sunday market, (2)Ogba retail market, (3)Alade market, (4)Oke Arin market, (5)Tejuoso market, (6)Ipodo market, (7)Mushin market
Those are the ones i can remember. I know (1)(2) and (3) like the back of my hand, well at least i did then.
Today i will be gisting you about my love affair with Sunday market. So like i said, after church, we'd drive down. Most times we'd go home to change into something more comfortable first but sometimes when church dragged for long, we'd got straight from church. I actually liked going with my ma, it was fun for me. I started going with her just so she'd remeember to buy me pork; i loved pork so much, since she bought it once and made stew with it, i just got hooked. I was still quite young when i started going to the market with her, i was under 10 and i got used to it even before she thought i was old enough to go with her whether i wanted to or not. I'm sure you are wondering if i am normal, but the thing is, it was actually like an adventure especially as i did not have to carry anything apart from my ma's bag, 'the alabaru'(5) carried all the stuff we bought round the market and then to the car.
So usually when we got to the market, we'd get an alabaru and then start buying.
*The yam area was usually first. I would see yams bigger than my head, lol! My mum would pick the ones she thought would be good to eat and also good to pound(for Pounded Yam). She'd price the yams, pay and then we would proceed.
* The Garri(6) sellers were usually next. I loved tasting the garri. The garri people will ask you if you wanted 'garri ijebu' or yellow garri AKA 'bendel garri. Garri ijebu is the sour, fine one, usually cream/off white in colour; this one's is good for 'soaking' with groundnuts. Infact my dad and i judge the 'goodness' of garri by how sour it is, lol! Bendel garri is usually yellowish and more like sweet rather than sour. This one is good for making eba. Though some people will rather 'soak' this and others would rather make eba with garri ijebu. I generally don't really like 'bendel garri'. My mum does though. We usually bought both.
*The next stop would then be the tomatoes, 'tatase'(7) and 'rodo'(8) sellers. We all know how important these ingredients are in making stew and 'efo'(9). My ma would pick fresh juicy tomatoes, rodo and tatase, price the lot and then pay. She usually bought enough to make efo and stew for the week at least and instead of taking the lot home to blend (which would probably take forever) we usually took them to the 'elero'(10) to grind/blend.
*The next stop was the provision area. Where you bought Milk, Indomie, Milo, Maggi, Seasoning, Curry, Thyme at much better prices than the supermarkets would give you.
-Now by this time my mum's alajota(11) onions customer would have found us. This woman literally danced round the market to find her customers, "Ah, Mummy, customer mi, e ti ra alubosa leni..."(12) and then she'd drag you to her stall while singing and dancing for you. If you said you weren't ready to buy onions yet, she would follow you round the market till you were ready. She was quite something, very notorious, very funny, she made me laugh every sunday.
*And next to my fave market woman were the Oil people's corner. Palm oil, Groundnut Oil and Vegetable Oil(p.s. is sunflower oil different from veg oil, what is veg oil made out of?)
*After buying oil, meat was usually next. This used to be the highlight of the whole market trip for me! lol. Which is probably why i don't understand vegetarians, i respect their opinion/decision, i just do not necessarily understand it. Anyways so there was always so much meat... chicken, turkey, beef, goatmeat, pork!(my reason for being in the market, lol!) and whatever else they had. Most times my mum bought chicken(especially cos of us the kids), and some beef, and of course if i was there we couldnt leave the market without pork( i eventually grew out of it... TEMPORARILY though, cos i still love me some pork chops now. lol! Strangely my mum loved ponmo(13)(still does i think) so she bought herself some occasionally, no one ate it with her sha, lol! Infact my dad always told her not to put ponmo in the food when they were eating from the same plate, lol!
*The 'Elero' people were near the meat guys, so we'd give them our tomatoes, tatase, rodo and some of the onions to blend and the alabaru will wait to collect it while we bought the few thing we still had to buy.
*Also near the elero people was my ma's 'Egusi'(14) customer. I love egusi so we never left the market without it. We usually bought egusi and ede gbigbe(15) and then the person selling it would grind it into powder form for us. We bought our efo at the same place too. There are different types of efo that i know, there's Ugwu(16), there's ewuro(17), there's 'ukazi'(18), 'tete'(19), and my favourite 'sokoyokoto'(20).
*Our final stop most times was by the fresh fish sellers. They always had big, veryyyy big, live fish in bowls of water, what was funny was hot the fish would be doing electric slide in the bowls, lol. I enjoyed kicking the bowls just to watch them dance, hehehe! Sometimes we bought fish from them, sometimes we didnt. When we did it was catfish. I love catfish, especially in peppersoup. lol!
*By this time, i'd be tired but i'd feel fulfilled, hehe. My ma would buy fruit just at the exit and i'd opt for fan yogurt most times; we'd walk the alabaru to the car. Pay him, (they were actually always boys) and drive home...
Take care people
Have a great weekend!
(1) - nigerian pastry, similar to donuts (without the jam)
(2) - 'yoruba' literally translated as Buy Palm to make stew with
(3) - Ice cold water here
(4) - actually a title, but nigerian children use term to describe every petty trader that happens to be a hausa man
(5) - yoruba; literally means a person that helps to carry stuff; it's actually a job title in nigerian markets for the boys that help carry your shopping round the market
(6) - nigerian staple food made from cassava
(7) - yoruba; big red pepper mild
(8)- yoruba; small red pepper, very hot
(9)- yoruba; vegetable delicacy
(10) - yoruba; people that operate the very loud grinding machines in nigerian markets and are paid to grind your tomatoes, pepper, beans and the likes
(11) - yoruba; a trader that dances whilst selling
(12) - yoruba; 'Ah mummy, my customer, you havent bought onions today o'
(13) - soft hide eaten as meat by nigerians; i just read somewhere that it can actually be used to make shoes
(14) - melon seeds used to make soup
(15) - dry crayfish
(16) - pumpkin leaves; used to make vegatable soup
(17) - bitter leaf; used to make vegetable soup
(18) - a type of vegetable used to make soup
(19)- yoruba; spinach(i think)
(20) - yoruba; literally means 'makes your husband happy/robust'; its a type of vegetable used to make 'efo' and it is believed it keeps your man happy