Friday, September 26, 2008

'Aristo' cracy, 'Agbero' cracy, ... ARCHIVES

ARISTOS!!! Aristocracy, dealing with lame-assness of some Nigerian Men in my Men(tality) series, my being confused for a little kid (Am surely a kid but a littler kid I mean), Agberocracy in Abuja markets, dissatisfaction with the stereotypical notions of northerners as dumb-asses, the economic class divide and exploitation of poorer masses....

Northern and Nigerian treatment of young women in general (forced or arranged marriages) and my personal rants and frustrations concerning them being a young northernwoman myself. (Those posts got the most hits and comments kinda!)

I decided to put links on the posts that really spoke my mind and re-reading them lighten the weight on my shoulders. If you're new on this blog. You can 'peruse' achives below:








Friday, September 19, 2008

Handbags!! by House of Nodza (Gidan Nodza)

Quoted "Gidan Nodza(Hausa for House of Nodza) is a proudly Nigerian company that offers the best handmade luxury items of its kind. Products from Gidan Nodza are different and unique because all items are 100% handmade. Fabrics used are all dyed using the age old methods of; batik, tie & dye & other wax relief techniques. The leather used is locally sourced. So, to be in possession of a Gidan Nodza item is to be in possession of a rare work of Art. Visit to see what's new at Gidan Nodza from fabric(s) pieces to final product. "

She (the owner, Amina Hassan) was featured in UrbanKit's blog:

I'm impressed!!!

Way to go Gidan Nodza (in na samu kudi zan yi sayyaya amma kunyi kokari. Ubangiji ya ba ku sa'a!)

Whatever Prada, Michael Kors, Coach, LV... with 100% Handmade? I'm Nodza babyeee!!!


The Facebook group:


What do y'all think?
Future Awards Nomination for Amina Hassan anyone? Hell yea!


Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The sickness called Nigerian Hospitals

If you didn't read my older post on the wide gab between the rich and poor and the level of poverty that exist in our so-called posh, classy and elegant Nigerian cities, here:

Simon Kolawole of Thisday Newspaper wrote the following touching article on Nigerian (Lagos) Hospitals both public and private. PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING:

I’m ever very desperate to be positive about my country. I’m ever eager to celebrate the smallest of achievements and the tiniest of gestures, all in an attempt to catch a glimpse of a silver lining in the dark cloud hanging over the alleged Giant of Africa. But then one thing happens and the whole enthusiasm just comes crumbling, like biscuits in the mouth. Today, I’ll like to briefly discuss what has been bothering most Nigerians – the state of our hospitals. President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua’s medical pilgrimage seems to have re-ignited Nigerians’ anger on the state of healthcare in the country. We should all be worried. We should all be angry. I am ready to concede that some things have changed, but obviously not enough has changed to make us shout Uhuru. In fact, most of the stories you hear from our hospitals are heart-breaking. I like to illustrate the rot in this society with personal experience. I will do so again today.

Two weeks ago, my driver called me to say his father was ill. He suspected typhoid. Take him to a general hospital, I told him, because I don’t really trust many of the private clinics which often lack the expertise but would eagerly wave huge bills in the face of unfortunate Nigerians. He took the man to Gbagada General Hospital, Lagos. This was in the evening. The person who was supposed to issue registration cards had taken a stroll. The lady in sight, whose duties my driver couldn't’t really define, advised them to sit down and wait because “issuing cards is not my duty”. After waiting for an hour, with his father in pains, my driver finally sighted the card issuer. Card issued, they waited for another one hour to see the doctor. The lady, who said she was not a card issuer, was obviously the one who would grant them access to the doctor, but she was busy talking and gisting on “MTN Xtra Cool” (as my driver put it). “I could not believe my eyes,” my driver said. “She must have been on the phone for 50 minutes. In the process, the doctor had resumed work. I didn’t know. It was another nurse who came to advise me that I had to keep troubling the lady before we could see the doctor.” Reluctantly, the “MTN” nurse allowed them to see the doctor who did a good job of informing my driver that his father would need a surgery. There was a little problem though: there was no bed space, so he would refer them to Lagos State University Teaching Hospital (LASUTH), Ikeja, which I understood the Tinubu administration had turned into one of the best in the country today. Midnight, they set out for LASUTH. On getting there, they were told once again that there was no bed space, so they headed for General Hospital in Surulere. Early in the morning the following day, I called him to find out what the situation was. The same story: no bed space.“Go to LUTH immediately,” I ordered him, and then joked seriously: “You see now, if you were a big man you would just take your father to St. Nicholas Hospital or Reddington and deposit N5 million. The operation would have been done by now. Better still, if you were a governor or a minister, you would have flown your daddy to Germany or London by air ambulance for operation.” He got my point easily because I always use him as a sounding board anytime we are going to office. I normally pour out my frustrations about the contradictions in this country on him.LUTH was the final straw. When I called him to get the situation report, he gave me a very sad picture. “LUTH is the worst so far,” he said. “The lady who attended to us was so merciless. She said we should take our father out of the reception area, that five people had died there while waiting for bed space. We begged her and said that was the fourth place we were being rejected. She shouted on us and told us to go away, asking if we expected her to become a bed. We begged and begged but she got angrier, saying what she hated most in her life was being begged. While we were still begging, one lady brought her father who was obviously in need of urgent attention. The nurse shouted on her. Right before our eyes, the man gasped and died. No first aid. Nothing. The nurse became more agitated and told the confused lady to take the corpse out of the reception immediately.

I decided there and then I had seen enough.”He moved his father to a private clinic across the road where he was asked to deposit N150,000 before treatment would commence. Please don’t ask me how much he earns that he would have saved N150,000 to attend to the health of his father. The doctor wanted the money deposited before he could start any form of work. My driver deposited N50,000 later in the day. For the two nights the man spent there, he only received drips and a few tablets before the doctor advised them to go to one specialist centre at Ikeja. At this stage, I told my driver to move his father to a reputable private hospital on Lagos Island (I wish to withhold the name). The life of the man was in serious danger and everything must be done to save him now.The hospital first turned them back, saying there was no bed space. But eventually, the man was admitted. My driver got a very strong hint, unofficially, that the man was in serious danger and might not survive. Surprisingly, perhaps because of the money the hospital was going to make from this case, they said they wanted to conduct their own tests before operating on the man. “Before we knew what was happening, they said they had done a scan that would cost us N60,000. They said they were going to do another scan. That’s another N60,000, not counting the other charges,” my driver told me. At this stage, he decided to withdraw his father from the hospital, but for inexplicable reasons, the doctor was never available for him to discuss with. He became desperate to withdraw his father, at least to cut his losses, but the hospital would not play ball yet the man’s condition was getting worse. Last Wednesday, early in the morning, he received a call informing him that his father had died. Don’t ask me how much the hospital told him to pay for the five days of “treatment”. Don’t ask me how the poor boy mourned the two losses – one of his father and the other of the monumental resources that went down the drain. Sadly, the story I have just told today can represent the experiences of thousands of Nigerians everyday. Nigeria. What a country.


What can we do to make a change instead of being satisfied with our individual well beings alone?




Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Fine babe, no pimples! Ladi stepping to gorgeousness

So more recently, more people are rushing to every and any spa: moroccan, chinese, brazilian, calabar fattenening-room spa, all of them. Me na Hausa spa I go start with those Hausa pregnant-just gave birth-women's hot water and herb bath. Kai! I have recipes already!

The makeup industry is booming (BM Pro, Toni Payne, House of Tara's line with the yoruba name) as well as couture, designers are lending and giving celebs clothes anyhow (Rukkies and Linka Ikeji: I'm jealous!) and we Nigerians are watching and taking cue. Perfection is the goal whichever one you can afford.

After spending an hour on reading blogs and fashion magazines, viewing air brushed pictures, many of us ask ourselves How can I look, dress and feel like her?

And hair, Bobby Eke's salon amongst others in Lagos (I heard you have to book two weeks ahead to an appointment...Beverly Hills 9ja style) and Cotonou Boys in Wuse 11, Abuja. A fellow intern at work told me those Benin-Republic natives charge N10,000 for million braids (when its like N2,000 or less in kaduna and Jos and N4,000 what my Mum pays in Abuja usually) and once some lady had to pay N15,000 for God knows what they placed on that head of her. She got the fat bill (which could be someones month's salary) and with a cutesy-spoilt-ajebo tone said "O kay!" CHEIII!!!!! Anyway, if I can afford it why not allow someone feed himself but seriously HAIR again?

(Now hair is becoming pricey like UK and US oh!)I have braids which I'll keep for three months and relax DIY in front of the mirror with instrustions and style again myself if not I'll either be broke or EFCC'll arrest my Dad if I can afford those luxuries regularly. Nah!

In this material world, you'll need to first get gym membership either to join the Joneses or truly get fit and firm, take dance classes- Salsa to be precise like if the dancing in Church doesn't burn enough clories and our traditional owambe steps are not enough we've moved to Salsa? Cool sha but it just sounds like some move to fake jandedness when I hear some folks say they take salsa lessons. I learnt tap dance from PE in school but I'm gonna open a fulani dance club or something (hmm, lame!).

My school's gym is mega awsome and free so I hit the jackpot there.

Me, am a victim of working out now! I started this work out plan created by Jessica Alba's trainer, Ramona Braganza, that I got from an old Seventeen Magazine. She alternates (daily) 40minute cardio with 10 minute cardios along with 'strenght moves' she calls them (Squats, leg and biceps curls) . The workout plan is for two weeks but I'm modifying and doing mine for a month and see if it firms me up if not na sue I go sue. I don't need to lose weight lai lai! if not I'll keep looking 12years old. Instead of watching TV, exercise is better than couch potato-ing right?
Start saving up for it bags: Prada, LV or Gucci and that classic-square cuboid shaped Chanel with the chain straps to take attention from everything else if not, get a skincare regimen and ka-ching we're ready.

So next, either invade Sephora version: House of Tara or the nearest passing-by makeup selling mallams (true or false?), Thats why I love-like-hate 9ja, see babes in Abuja patronising those mallams which is great 'cause you're feeding him but to go out and be shouting lies that you shopped on Oxford street( I digress but Hiss!)

If you've been reading my past blog entries you'll know I'm a 'condition bend crayfish' Mascara junky (started with Rimmel London, then Covergirl Lashblast, and now Maybelline Define-a-Lash). Eye pencil is like a Northern woman prerequisite so I've been wearing it since nursery school see my baby, kiddie pictures have me with navy blue eye pencil. Omo fine girl no pimples!!!

Now adolescence (what my buddies call it, I call it stress-induced breakouts) wants to deal with my face but the Devil is a Liar!!! so I'm taking my cleanse-moisturise-conceal regimen seriously. As per foundation, too much TV and magazine adverts have convinced me that mineral powder is better for the skin so I switched to Covergirl Pressed Mineral Foundation for my oily skin. Yea and Neutrogena's wash and tone cleanser and Clean and Clear's SPF15 moisturiser in the beginning and middle of the routine. On weekend I use peel-off mask and apricot srub if my face start manufacturing dry, dead, skin.

Three of those products we're in Cosmogirl's Beauty Hall of Fame so I'm on track!

Don't need any anti-aging stuff Biko, not yet!

What else? Exfoliation. I alternate disinfectant/ anti-bacterial bath wash with exfoliating-scrub bathwash only God knows if they actually take away the dead skin. I guess! Since I cannot afford spas plus I should be studying Economics and doing homework so I could as well get over dead skin while I bathe. Ko? But is like sand all over my body (Damn am sounding like a bushgirl now!)

Teeth, whitening oh! I'm not taking this aspect too seriously. I just switched my mouth wash and tooth paste to whitening ones and yes, the chewing gum I chew too is stain preventing and whitening. I switched from basic anti bad-breath ones. I'm not spending time on whitening strips yet maybe during my next break or holiday or something.

Last, I have to sign an oath to eat fruit and drink V8 and Fuze drinks on my school ID flex so its kinda free so I got my Vitaminerals babyeee!. That Barney's song Apples and Bananas ain't child's play.

Oh, and WATER, I started drinking so much (its healthy duh!) that I started spending '5million' hours in the rest room which is kinda embarassing so I just drink a lot when I'm in the confines of my room and can run to my personal bathroom without warranting reactions from people (What the hell does that chic in the next toilet cubicle drink? Lol!)

Workout, check!

Face, check!

Skin, check!

Teeth, check!

To accommodate all these changes, being a student and not having time for excess ephizzy I just exchanged my former lifestyle with something better, cheaper/economical, and healthier alternatives. I'm in a village in Yankee and don't quite socialize in Abuja so there's no one to put my picture in Purefoto for any reason so for self satisfaction I guess.

"If you look good you feel good. If you feel good, you sell/cook/work good" Deion Sanders (sportsman) says for everything.

If I look close to Jessica Alba or Chalya Shagaya (Another Northern QBee) seriously I'll inform y'all. Ha ha!

But that's not the point though. If I feel better and more confident and less conscious then I conquered. This is for myself and me alone.

Let me not forget what matters most is the inside soul so I'm picking my Bible up now. Been on the one-year Bible plan so I can finish the scripture in 12 months. God, please forgive me I slacked a bit and have to take a year and a half instead. But by His grace, I will.



Thoughts anyone?


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