Boarding School Stories II: A is for Agama Agama

According to Wikipedia, "Agama agama is a species of lizard from the Agamidae family, found in most of sub-Saharan Africa."

As far as I was concerned, in JSS 1 at the time, Wikipedia was absolutely right. When I was asked by a senior student (Whom I shall call Snr. B) in the hostel if I knew what Agama agama was, I confidently replied that I did, and even went ahead, in my typical ITK fashion, to explain that it was a species of lizard, etc, and that the she should find it easy to identify because those kinds of lizards could be found crawling on our dorm walls all the time. I felt proud of myself after answering the question. After all, it was because I'd been reading my older brothers' biology textbooks that I happened to know this information. I finished answering the question with a smile on my face, and even asked the Snr. B if she had any other question before I left.

So, in the midst of all the happiness, imagine my surprise when Snr. B's response to my detailed answer was a hot slap! While reeling from the slap, I tried to backtrack and see where I went wrong, to see if I'd missed some cues from the other students around who all suddenly seemed to be wearing matching smirks. I thought to myself that in hindsight, perhaps I shouldn't have answered the question in such detail, or perhaps I should have feigned ignorance. Maybe Snr. B was just mad because I told her something she obviously didn't know (After all, everyone knew she kinda was a dundee). However, it turned out that none of these factors was the problem. That became clear when B told me that she'd "show me what agama agama was" and that I'd "see fire today."

As it turns out, Agama Agama was actually a corporal punishment. Snr. B gleefully asked another junior student to demonstrate the punishment to me, and after seeing it, I began to think that I REALLY should have shut my mouth. Basically, you have to support your whole body weight on your elbows and the tips of your toes; So you lie down straight on the floor, then you cup your face with your hands, and then you push yourself up until all your weight is supported on your elbows and toes. Most importantly, your stomach, knees, and any other body part (apart from the elbows and toes) must not touch the ground. Each time one of those offending parts touched the ground, you got slapped, and 10 more minutes were added onto your punishment time.

For someone like me this was the worst punishment ever devised. I was a kpengele girl in JSS 1; I almost looked like a kwashiorkor patient. My huge tummy kept touching the floor of course, and when I tried to adjust, I was told that I was that I was making a V, and my back was actually meant to remain straight. I had no means of escape. I prayed and prayed for afternoon prep that day, until I realized it was a Saturday, so I wouldn't be getting any such relief. My arms felt like jelly; I'd never felt them shake so badly. Snr. B wasn't even looking at me or listening to me. I cried, I fell, I begged, I pleaded, I even tried bribery (Snr. B was also known to have anya ukwu; I was so sure that would work), all to no avail. After about 2 hours – the result of many 10 minute increments – Snr. B finally let me up. Those seemed like the longest two hours of my life. I made sure I told her how grateful I was (another lesson I had learnt in my short stint at boarding school), and promised that I'd never repeat whatever offence it was that I'd committed.

That was when Snr. B turned to me and said there was no need for apologies. I was feeling relieved until I heard the next statements out of her mouth. She said I didn't need to apologize, because I hadn't DONE ANTHING WRONG! She said that she'd had a bad day, and just felt like punishing someone, and I was just the 'unfortunate soul' that happened to work for her.

I walked off, fuming – on the inside of course, I wouldn't dare show any anger, for fear of receiving more punishment – and realized 3 important things:

1. Snr. B really was the dundee she was reputed to be. I mean, who punishes someone like that just because?
   
2. Things are actually funny until they happen to you. I bet if my older brother had told me this story, I would have found it hilarious –that was before it actually happened to me of course
   
3. Senior students were to be avoided at ANY cost!
   

Later on I would find out that there were many more interesting letters of the corporal punishment alphabet. That weren't necessarily as physically tasking this punishment was, but they were just as painful. That's a story for another day though.

 

To all the boarders/ attendees of ajekpako secondary schools, what was the equivalent of Agama agama for you?

Heavy Thoughts on My Mind…11/19/09

So I came across this post I had typed up on my computer on November 19, 2009, and I thought I'd share it. I guess I've been dealing with some things that I didn't want to bring to the forefront. I am, however, going through a journey of transparent self-honesty, and I find that sharing seems to help. I love being an anonymous blogger.

And I should add that things have DEFINITELY improved since I typed this; maybe my dad seemed to realize what he stood to lose when mama got so sick earlier on in the year. Anyways, here it goes:

 

 

I don't know what to do with myself right now…I'm just typing away to see if it gives me some sense of relief. I can't sleep, I'm having a little pity fest too, but I can't help it! I feel so down.

I'm saddened by the state of my parent's marriage. There, I said it. I'm upset that my father keeps belittling and disparaging my mother in front of others. No matter what, she should be given respect as his wife and mother to his four children. I cannot believe that he cannot see how much damage he's done to her. I cannot believe that he cannot sense how much damage he's doing to ME talking to me about my mum like that.

"She has no ambition."

"If she was someone who took anything seriously, she'd do this…"

"Look at how she looks. This isn't the woman I married."

While he talks about how fat she is, or how the only reason he's still with her is because of us, he seems to forget his role in her current "state":

• He has conveniently forgotten that he asked her to be a stay at home wife
  
• He has conveniently forgotten that he never showed her any real encouragement with any endeavors she had that would take her away from home. After all, who was going to take care of the kids?
  
• He complained about her getting maids to help around the house, while never considering that she was taking care of his family too (Way more than us and her family too).
  

Worst of all, it's like he never looks at himself in the mirror. His thickening waistline and his heavier self isn't the man my mum married either, but I don't hear her complain. He may not be "obese" like she is, but if she can love him unconditionally, why can't he do the same?

He would flinch to hear this, but what he has been doing to her is called abuse. He would never lift a finger to her, I'll give him that, but there are so many other forms of abuse. This is verbal and emotional abuse.

I'm not exonerating mum of any blame either. She lets him chip away at her self esteem without saying anything. My mum is the strongest woman I know, but sometimes I wonder if she realizes it herself. I would never blame her for foregoing her dreams to take care of us; she always tells us how happy she was and still is to take care of us, and I always feel like my heart is being squeezed when she says that; I know how much she's sacrificed.

Sometimes though, I wish she'd stand up for herself more and not let my dad and his domineering self walk all over her. I wish she would take better care of herself. I wish she'd do it for her, and not for anyone else: not my dad, not us, not her family. Just for her. I want her to get that spring back in her step, that shining confidence and assurance in her eyes. I want to stop seeing that look of panic that she can't disguise no matter how hard she tries.

Momma has been ill a lot lately and I keep freaking out. I'm ashamed to say it, but I keep getting scared that she'll die. My stomach knots and I feel nauseous when I think of it. I know that I'm selfish in thinking of only how it impacts me, but I think I have every right to be selfish about my mum.

I'm confused. I've always been the closest to my dad, but as I've been growing up, his attitude towards my mum is slowly wedging a space between us. I can't approach my dad with this subject and I don't know what to do. I just know that if this goes on, I might get to a point where I'll completely lose that closeness with him.

I'm not saying that I'm perfect or that they both have to be perfect. I just want them to be the best they can. I want the fairy tale family I used to have back.

 

I feel so much better letting this all out.

Just For Me, on Sunday Morning

Have you ever been in a certain place, heard a certain message, or watched a certain piece, and felt that you were personally being addressed? Well, that's how I felt on Sunday. I almost missed going to service that morning; it was raining, so the weather was cool, my bed seemed extra soft, and I just wanted to keep on sleeping. I missed the first two services, and finally, I dragged myself out of bed to go to the third service.

At church, it seemed like everything was just for me, I tell you. I've been worrying about my mum's health for a long time. She's had this boil for years now. Yes, I said a boil. It started innocently enough; just a little sore that resolved itself pretty quickly, or so it seemed. It's been persistent though. For the past 8 years my mum has been dealing with this "boil". She's had it drained, had surgery, prayed about it, nothing seems to be working. It's become especially bad since December of last year. Before that it hadn't given her a problem in over a year, then in December, she woke up one day with her bedsheets soaked with blood from that one little point. It happened again when I went to visit for Christmas, and I was scared out of my mind because I've never seen my mama in so much pain, and over something that didn't seems that big.

So it amazed me when I was in church that morning, and the pastor's wife was talking about praying for healing, and everything she was saying just seemed like it was tailored for my mama. I raised my hand for prayer, and I cried when I was getting that prayer. I don't usually cry at times like this, so I was surprised myself. I hope that God has heard me; I hope he will heal my mum. I think she really needs to put this illness behind her. I've been so scared to hear of her test results for weeks now, but after really praying about it on Sunday, I'm feeling more confident that everything will be fine. My work entails reading cancer charts all day, and I been praying fervently that that is not what is wrong. Well, we'll find out next week.

Anyways, the service continued, and we had a special group minister that morning. One segment of the play they did was on abuse. They were talking about people who'd been abused or molested at any point in time, and how forgiveness was needed, or it affected every part of one's life. I just sat in my chair, watching, listening, and I was shook. I've been trying to deal with my issues. I told you about being molested by my cousin when I was younger, and I really thought I'd made my peace with it. When I realized I truly wasn't was when I logged onto Facebook sometime last week, and I had a friend request from this cousin in question. I logged onto Facebook every day last week, looked at that friend request, and just moved on elsewhere. I couldn't bring myself to respond.

That's why I sat in my chair that morning in church, just trying to sort my feelings out, but just generally feeling shook. I realized that maybe this had been affecting my life in many ways. I went after service for prayer because I needed some help. I prayed, I was prayed for, and I cried. I was happy to let it out because I'd never cried about it before. I'd had many feelings: anger, denial, shame, acceptance, heck I'd even made excuses for why it had happened, told myself maybe it was my fault In some way, justified it by saying I should count myself lucky that I wasn't raped, even when it happened a second time, by another different person. So I stood at that altar, and cried about it. I cried about my shame, I cried about my anger, I cried about all the ways it had been affecting me, I just cried and just cleansed my spirit. I found that forgiveness, that understanding it seemed I couldn't find before.

I got home feeling so much better, and very happy that I had not missed that service that morning. Later in the day, I logged on Facebook, and I added the cousin in question as a friend. One of my friends who knows about the whole situation was angry with me for doing that. I told her that that was what I had to do for me. I'm never going to get the apology I'd thought I needed for so long from him. I'd thought that was what I needed to move on. I know he's not going to give it, and for the first time in my life, I don't care! He's moved on with his life, he got married over the holidays, he's happy, so why should I be the one weighed down with this? I've found that forgiveness, that peace that transcends all the negative emotions I'd been dealing with.

Happy New Year to you all, hope the year is going great so far!

Nodi nu ofuma!

On the 8,331st day of my life....

I thought about how I've REALLY lost my writing mojo...It wasn't that much to begin with, but it's really declined
I sat at my desk at work and tried not to devise evil ways to get my coworker to stop her whining
I really missed my budd-e
I felt really lonely...I hate living alone
I worried about my daddy...he had a biopsy last week and I hope everything is fine
I got an interview with one of the schools I applied to :)
I realized that maybe I'm passive aggressive
I wondered why some guys do not take no for an answer!
I really missed having cable...I miss being able to forward through Adam Shankman's and Mary Murphy's comments on So You Think You Can Dance
I found some old poem/story I was working on 3 years ago and have been thinking about finishing it. It's really depressing though
I realized how fleeting and unfair life is after learning of the death of a schoolmate. She just got home for the holidays, and got into a car crash. So sad.
I read confessions on naijapals.com and laughed at some of the more hilarious ones.
I also realized that Nigerians are hardcore haters...it's like we can't help ourselves
I wondered what's really going on with President Yar'Adua
I really wished I didn't have to go to work tomorrow...This weather is great for sleep!
I also wondered why I use ellipses so much
I worried about money problems
I realized it was useless to worry because it wouldn't change anything
I hoped that you'd realize that I didn't have any other way of breaking back onto the scene and forgive me for being away for so long...Please?

Have a great night everyone!

Happenings in Simplegalville...

I'm back, albeit one day later than I was supposed to be, with my lil update...I have a lot on my mind, but this 8:00 till whenever work schedule is killing me!

Where to start? I guess I'll start by saying I got my MCAT results back, not a great improvement, but the fact that I improved at all has really helped boost my confidence, and I'm in the process of finishing up my applications for this cycle. God willing, I shall be in Med school next year, Amen! Sting has been really nice to me too, making out the time to reply my e-mails, with great words of encouragement too!

My family made it over to the States, and I'm busy planning my [very brief] visit; Unfortunately work constraints won't permit a long visit now. I just want to see my family, it's been 5 years for goodness sake! I've been blowing up the house phone and I can't wait to see everyone :)

Speaking of work, started my new job last month; Love it so far, except for the presence of one incredibly annoying smug miss know-it-all, and the fact that 70% of my colleagues don't seem to grasp the concept of personal space. That's a story for another day.

I'm trying to deal with a crazy pathological liar of a friend; Her story is one that takes a bit to tell, so I'll be back with that. I actually need advice with that one. Speaking of crazy people, you'll never guess who came to add me as a friend on Facebook! Remember Bolo? I was so surprised to find a friend request from her. I refused to add her; I know it's been a while since the incident, but I'm only human, and I'm still annoyed with her, sue me. The fact that she's been running her mouth about me to other people (whom I guess she doesn't realize are my friends as well) wasn't exactly helping either.

(Now that I think about it, I need to continue with my Boarding school stories as well, hmmn....)

Well that's all I got for now...I gotta be at work at 7:30 tomorrow and I need to go get some shuteye. I'm dead tired!

Nodi nu ofuma.

I'm back!

Blogsville, a nam ekene unu o! I'm back after my very long hiatus, and I apologize for being away for so long.

This is a very short note; I'll be back later tonight maybe or tomorrow to truly update.

Have a great evening y'all!

Okay…That Was Awkward and Weird….

Apparently I'm really immature because I wouldn't let a dude bite me on a second (official, at least) date. Very weird experience, I must say. Remember the guy I said I was in serious like with? Not anymore I'm not!

I met IE in the library (one of my friends teased that it was doomed to failure for this) while poring over some organic chemistry. IE and his friend had come over to the area I was sitting in and proceeded to begin a discussion in French. I had turned to see who was making that racket, coz that chemistry was whooping me at the time and I needed to concentrate; I was not appreciating the noise. I was busy contemplating whether I should tell them – very politely of course – to stop making noise, or if I should just move, when IE walked up to me and asked if I was from a francophone African country. When I said I wasn't, he replied that he thought I was because I turned like I understood their conversation. So anyways, we struck up a simple conversation and I found out he'd moved down here a few months ago. I was involved a lot with international students at my school, so I'm always interested in meeting new ones, and we hadn't had and Ivorian students at my school. Before he left we exchanged numbers.

IE called me later that night and we chatted it up quite a bit, and the following day (at the library again; MCAT no be beans) he asked me out on a date. We had fun on the date, he was really nice and sweet and attentive. We hung out a lot, mostly at the library coz he was studying for an exam too. So on Monday last week, IE calls me up and says it's been a while, that he wanted us to spend Wednesday evening together. So on Wednesday we rented some DVDs, got some food and went over to his place.

I've told IE I don't drink at all, and that's just a personal choice, but when we got over to his place he was bugging me about drinking some wine at least. I insisted that I didn't want to (especially since I'd gone to his place for the first time and I needed to be clearheaded. I'm a little paranoid – I have 911 on speed dial, story for another day). We forgot about that, started watching the movie. Halfway through the movie, IE has adjusted positions again and again, and now his head is in my lap. I really didn't think much of it, until I felt him biting my thigh! I had to insist, very firmly, that he stop. I mean dude, nothing before, no warning, and you're just going to bite my thigh? I don't think so.

So IE gets, up, gets a can of beer and seems to be sticking to my request (for lack of a better word). Then he tries to play tonsil hockey, with some beer breath (I'm sorry, ugh), and I didn't want that. He then decided that trying to bite me, again, was a better option. He tried this again, much HIGHER on my thigh this time and at this point I got REALLY fed up. I told him I was ready to go (Unfortunately, and very stupidly I should add, I didn't drive down, he'd come to get me), and that he needed to get me home. At this pt he's like "how old are you again? Oh yeah, 22. You're so immature." I'm looking at him like 'what?' Dude continues on, "You won't let me kiss you, rub you, bite you, what's wrong with you?" I was quite surprised, to say the least. For some strange reason (I wonder as I look back on it what was wrong with me too), I was even explaining to the dude that I had my personal reasons for not wanting him to feel up on me that way. He asked if it was because I'd been hurt before by someone, and I agreed (not going into detail coz that's TMI), and that was my second big mistake.

IE finally gets his keys and we get into the car so he can go drop me off. He then spends the whole ride home tell me to get over myself and get over it – it being whatever or whomever hurt me in the past – and not in a sensitive way I might add. IE is 7 yrs older than me, and I felt every one of those seven years in that short ride home because he talked to me like I was some little girl. Lekwanu mu ihu nsogbu, if I wanted a lecture, I'd call one of my two older brothers for that, I so did not need that. Talking about I should be more open to change by trying to drink, and allow some things to happen, basically, have sex with him (n***a, not going to happen with you that's for sure). Once we got to my place, I told him straight up that we could not have a relationship. At most, we could be friends. I don't see that happening either. I got into the house and was like wth just happened?

He called me today and it was just very awkward. He finally said "Uhm…my mum is calling me from Africa; I'll call you back when I'm through with her." He hasn't called back since then I'm relieved. Another sign it never would've worked out: his mum was calling from Africa (spoke like it's just one big ole country)…I kid, I kid.

So, do you think I sabotaged it, or do you agree that IE shouldn't have been expecting so much from me so soon? Either way, the 'serious like' is gone. I'll be back to my library tomorrow, and I'm hoping he'll stay away like he's been doing for about a bit now; I still have to hit my books, and I die before I leave my spot because of some guy.

Ka odi nu.