Sometime in the late 80’s/ early 90’s.. The place: a University in Ekpoma, Nigeria.. The people: kids and teachers from the Chapel’s Children’s Sunday School, a few of whom I still remember by name - all grown up now. A few dead people (RIP Gracie, GB, ‘Lena and Harold), one fairly famous (Nigerian) fashion designer (M) and seven kids who made it into engineering with a further six involved in other STEM subjects. ...
Food, fluids and friendships.. The highlights of days of Christmas past..
Somehow last Friday, I found myself at Nandos. Somehow doesn’t quite tell the full story given it had more than a hint of conscious effort to it, and my history with the darned place. I suspect it had more to do with a sense of longing than anything else seeing as the last time I was here was in early July. Then, the closest thing to the distinctly autumnal chill I now felt was the distant memory of spring’s tail as she ambled past, urged on by our nearly - but not quite summery - summer. I managed to score my regular table, number 11, proceeding to order the self-same meal I have ordered on each of the 100 + times since May 2012 that I’ve been here – half a chicken in lemon and herb, and a mixed leaf salad. ...
Day 7 of the Better Man in 30 days Challenge - Reconnect with an Old Friend --- The challenge was to reconnect with an old friend, by letter, email or phone (not Twitter). Cheated (slightly) as I did my reconnection over iMessage. A tad more in keeping with the spirit of reconnecting than a letter given the back and forth of instant messaging I think.. Or not.. Claiming this as done though, regardless. :)
Still slightly depressed from all that’s happened to rock my world over the last few weeks, I drag myself down to Union Square having left work thirty minutes early. I am hoping that a little window shopping – and fresh air – will do my foul mood some good. Thirty minutes later, having made a pit stop at TK Maxx, mooched around Sole Trader and JD Sports I find myself at the Jones shop, pondering the wisdom or otherwise of splurging on a gorgeous pair of Timberland boat shoes I have found. ...
I was the first person in, just before 4.00pm. I had no choice but to RSVP in the affirmative when my friend O.’s invite to his house warming party finally arrived, largely because I had harassed encouraged him strongly into putting it together. He had just bought a house on the other side of town, and starved of hanging out time, I’d seized upon that as an excuse to badger him into setting something up. ...
London calls… Having manfully beaten its lure over the holidays to enable a much needed season of introspection, I had to cave in to summons over the phone from my Uncle C, especially because he and el madre seemed to be in cahoots on this one. Ostensibly, the reason for the summons are my lack of endeavour in the girl stakes. My strategy has been to keep them in the dark on the details of my love life/ non-love life. Somehow Uncle C convinced Mum that our corner of the world up in Scotland is a hell hole of sorts with next to zero prospects of meeting eligible women, hence the need to get me out there in London. ...
Thankful for: Progress: After moaning on and on about being seemingly at a stand still my grad school applications appear to be moving again - received admission documents to the Welding Engineering program at Kirkland Lake, my Nigerian transcripts and references I’d requested from one of my old mates back in Nigeria. Timely pick-me-ups: My small circle of friends comes through time and time again. This time I am thankful for the one buddy who responded to my (admittedly attention seeking :p tweet) about hurtling on, my cryptic expression for the phase of life where I feel like I am at a stand still. There was a whole back story to that, but I’m thankful for the listening ear. Knowledgeable others: That I remain single is not for want of trying on my friends’ parts. Even though it sometimes feels like meddling, I have to admit it gives me a wee boost to know that they feel like I have unique selling points that will improve the lives of their sisters, nieces and best friends. :) That’s my reason and I’m sticking to it.
It was supposed to be the weekend that banished my 2011 troubles from memory and got me to let my hair down - something I admittedly do not do often enough. There was the small matter of needing to send in my passport to Mama Charlie’s lackeys for an extension to my residence permit, as well as navigating a week of water survival training (given my well documented aversion for large water bodies). ...
It is the end of August, and the new crowd is in town. I imagine the cold, wet and windy autumnal weather can hardly be the sort of welcome anyone from warmer climes could have been expecting, but for those of us north of the border, it is our lot, and moan as we may, it is what we are stuck with. Union Street is pretty much akin to Port Harcourt’s Aba Road, and every time a fresh batch of people hits town it swells like a river straining at its banks. As I pick my way through the human traffic I spot elements of the new crowd. It is always easy to spot them - either by the fact that they walk in groups of two or three, peering at maps, and chattering loudly in whatever their native tongue is, clearly excited at the new adventure they have set themselves, or by the fact that they are dressed up to the nines, over coat, head warmer, gloves and all, even though it is barely September. ...