Ladies and gentlemen, let's say it. Tell the truth as it is.say we'll never close our eyes or pretend that Nigeria's a rosy world. Say we'll never try to paint what is rotten with a sugarcoat. Say you'll talk about the horrors we've seen and the torment we bear. Say we'll never look at the evil among us and try to forget.Say we'll tell it like it is. This is the reason of my blogs. I welcome you all on board the zion train. ===deola
DEOLA: Mom, how did you and
dad get started that eventually crystalized into ya marriage?
MOM: My mom [Mozeba], that
is ya grandma, had sent me to go deliver a message to her friend. Lo, ya dad
was hanging out with his friends on a field I had to pass by to get to my mom’s
friend’s house. He and his friends kept staring at me so much to extent I
became nervous...my pulse began pounding. I looked away from them, yet they
follow in my direction. Lord, help me...I mustered a prayer. As I tried to skimp
away, a creeper grass stuck my foot. I fell. He and his friend rushed down, and
calling: “Ofere, that is Oyinbo, are you ok?” I was named “Oyinbo”, because I
had a somewhat blond hair and a light skin, exceedingly lighter, even when
compared with the fairest skin in the community. Though, it isn’t the albino
type. He pulled me up on my feet. Blood oozed from scratches on my hands and
legs. I felt shame, and was sobbing. He brought his handkerchief, a white color
handkerchief, cleansed me, hug, and kissed me lightly on my nose-tip. I felt a
current jolt in my body, but managed to keep my composure. I thank him and his
friends, and went away. Mom’s friend saw the bruises on my hand and leg, and
asked me what went wrong. I narrated the story. Hmmm! She breathed deep. I’d
known things like this would happen to you. I’d told ya mom to always opt to sending
ya brother instead of ya. These men would always be after ya beauty. She nursed
my wounds. She did not allowed me return home alone. She led me home.
In the evening of the second day of the incident,
my dad and mom were reclining in the hammock under the tree outside the house,
when ya dad, in company of his friends, came to check on me. From the living
room, I could see them prostrate and greet:
THEM: “Ekaale o, baba!”
[Good evening, dad!]
DAD: “Ooo, ekaabo o!” [You’re
welcome!]
THEM: “Ekaale o, mama!”
[Good evening, mama!]
MAMA: “Ooo, ekaabo o!” [You’re
welcome!]
THEM: “E jowo a bere
Oyinbo-omo yin!” [Please, we come to see “Oyinbo”-ya daughter!]
MAMA: “Oyinbo o!”
ME: “Yes, mom!”
MAMA: “Awon omokurin kan
bere re o!” [Here are a buch of boys asking to see ya]
ME: “Yes, mom, ki won
wole wa joko o.” [Yes, mom, let them come inside, and sit]
First day of their visit, he was timid to
voice out his desire. Second day, third day, fourth day...it went on like that
till about some weeks before he could stammer out his desire to marry me. I
told mom about his proposal. Mom told dad. Dad did investigation about his
background from neighbors and family friends, and it was discovered he was the
son of Agun the great of Ajowa kingdom. His mom was the Princess Folasade of
Ikeram kingdom.
One day, I was just sitting in the living
room, when all of a sudden, I was hearing song and dancing outside of our house.
Your dad’s folk had come for a formal request from my folks, just like what you
termed “introduction” nowadays:
“Baba ile
yi, eweso o;
Iyale ile
yi, eweso o;
Ododo kan
nbe lagbala;
Ti afe ja
o;
Eyin
onile yi, ewesoo!“
TRANSLATION:
[Landlord of this household, ya honor;
Landlady of this household, ya honor;
There’s a flower in ya compound;
We hereby have come to pluck away!]
My folks replied them back in a song:
“Igba emu
terere; [Cup
for wine]
Agbe emu
tarara; [Keg
of wine]
Ewo le mu
wa o; [which
do you bring]
Eyah,
sofun wa o! [Kindly,
tell us]
Thence, the family friends and neighbors, who
had already known, but pretended not to be aware of what is going on, asked in another
song:
“Kini e
nse, tie po bayi o?
[What are u doing, that you’re so many like this?]
CHORUS:
Iyawo la ngbe o;
[It’s a marriage party]
Hah,
ileke so, o so wowo;
[Hah, the bead’s ripen, fully ripen]
CHORUS:
Iyawo la ngbe o!”
[It’s a marriage party]
That was how me and ya dad get started that
eventually crystalized into marriage, prior ya brothers, sisters, and you were
born.
It happened long time ago, in Ado-Ekiti Nigeria. One
pretty high school girl from Ado Grammar School was coming on one way, and lo,
a handsome but unschooled guy was approaching from the same one way. Odi Poi-attraction
jammed, like magnet. The girl, in a sensuous psychedelic, swung her ass into
action. She bounced it, shake it down. Ayes, handsome, watch me. I am hot. I am
a “zungguzungguguzungguzeng... boy, come Jump fe happiness and jump fe joy. Yuh nuh fe take me fe girlfriend [boy, come jump for happiness and jump for joy. You ain’t fit take me for girlfriend].”
BOY
TO GIRL: "Hah, I could see ya, girl! You’re hot, so
beautiful. I’m feeling ya beat: zungguzungguguzungguzeng...omo jemi rie! Ado
Grammar School ni mei re. Mo nse Fisi-Kim-bao [PhysChemBio]. Omo jemi sare
FisiKimBio. Ewa re wunmi lopolopo!" [TRANSLATION: Baby, let me see ya. I
attend Ado Grammar School. I'm offering FisiKimBao (PhysChemBio). Baby, let me
quickly put in, and find you virgin. Your beauty stuns me so much!"
PhysChemBio, in Yoruba language, sounds: Fisi-Kim-bao, that is, "put it
in, and find you real].
GIRL
TO BOY: "Omo-ale alaileko! [Bastard unschooled]. Yuh nuh
fe take Yellowgirl fe toy!” [You can’t take yellowgirl for toy)
I wanna tell
ya a story o. Deola, what kinda story o? This story isn't a lie at all. It is
not very, very at all, even though, it will make you laugh like hyena. I wanna
tell ya a story o. Deola, what kinda story o? Okay, prepare ya mouth to laugh
like hyena o! Deola, tell us a story o! Prepare to open ya mouth like basket o!
Deola, tell us a story o! It will make ya turn ya mouth one side o! Deola, go
ahead, tell us a story o!
In the
boarding, in high school, students were prohibited from smoking. Lo, one day, a
classmate was arrested by the school principal for smoking marijuana, and after
which he was sent home to go call his dad to appear in the school tribunal.
“For daddy to hear of my smoking pot would be a double jeopardy. I gotta
dribble the principal. I won’t let him score this ball.” The boy had confided
in us-(his like hockey-heads fellows); prior he left the campus for town.
In couple of
some hours, he returned to campus, accompanied by the marijuana merchant who
presented himself as the father of this boy. Soon, after the tribunal,
comprising the principal, vice principal-administration, vice
principal-academic, senior house master, senior prefect, assistant senior prefect,
and student mock lawyers for the plaintiff and accused, had seated, the boy and
his dad were call to stand. However, before the boy’s case could be read for
the hearing of the tribunal, the boy’s dad {the arranged marijuana merchant),
said to the judge (the principal):
“Baba alaye
ke! Awa ti gbo pe omo-nla se. Awa si ti b’omo-nla wi. Lai fa oro gun siwaju si,
omo-nla, bawa gbe bag re, ko wo class re lo.” (TRANSLATION: The godfather sir!
We’d heard that the godson messed up. We’d scolded him. In order not to prolong
this matter, godson, pick-up ya bag, and resume classes.”)
Uhuh! The
tribunal chorused with laughter. “What a smart way, boy!” (The judge cued). I
hereby expelled ya from this school, and he gaveled. Ayes, lobatan (it's
finished).
I wanna tell
ya a story o. Deola, what kinda story o? This story isn't a lie at all. It is
not very, very at all! ===============================================DEOLA. #HIGHSCHOOLDIARY.
I am a liberal, friendly, emotional and lovely Nigerian-American-a resident of Texas. I started school at about five years of age. I remember that I intensely hated the project because it severely curtailed my period of play and freedom. You must be tidy in appearance coming to school, which meant either a complete ablution or the washing of face and limbs to present at least a good facade.
It is time to chop and die o;
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