that time we rummaged bins

“So what did Virgin [trains] say?”

“That I have to send them my tickets for them to process the refund.”

“Okay, check the [paper recycle] bin at home, it should still be there.”

Nope! I have not started looking for scraps in bins nor have I (thank You Jesus!) Continue reading


The Dress Story

“Jake, where’s my dress?”

“It should be at the back of the car. Have you checked?”

“Yes I have. I’ve emptied both the back of the car and the boot and I still can’t find it.”

“Ha! That’s not even funny oh! Let me have another look. I’m sure I saw you take it from your room downstairs just before we left. I think I even saw you put it in the car.”

“What!! You didn’t take it? Even though you were the first to step out of the house. I thought you were carrying it.”

“No oh! I was carrying the red carrier bag we were going to use for food shopping later.” Continue reading

the art of being Home – Village

This post is the 4th in ‘the art of being Home’ series, but with more pictures.

A major one of my reasons for going Home was to visit my home town a.k.a place of origin = the village to see where my dad was laid to rest. After a bit of stalling, tbh, I bought our air tickets to travel about 2/3 days before the planned departure. I was avoiding paying the online transaction fees but after I’d reserved the flights online and visited two banks to make payment in person but wasn’t successful, na to just ‘chest’ the ~N3000 extra and pay on the online.

So off we went with Air Peace and arrived peacefully!


I haven’t been to the village since Christmas 1994! Too long to be honest but life happened to my family and we kids just didn’t go after that apart from my parents. We met with one of my uncles and his family. I saw the burial place, arranged to have the place cleaned and just chilled. Surprisingly, I didn’t cry, maybe because I was with my brother and mum. I laughed and was cheerful all the time.

I plucked guavas from the trees in the yards – two varieties;

village2  broke palm kernels with hammer and stone;

village1and harvested a bunch of unripe plantain as my  villagep souvenir back to Lagos, then to the UK – mum insisted!! I complained to my uncle that UK unripe plantain never ripens in my hand but just shrivels. But this one was different – it was organic, pesticide-free and very natural, and ripens!

My dear brother decided to do a iron-man with shoes only. It was really funny!


After visiting home, we went to visit one of my dad’s lands; took pictures and headed for the capital – Owerri, drove around the city and went to a restaurant – ate Ofe Owerri (Soup of Owerri). Why it was more expensive than the other types of soups – a local cuisine more expensive than foreign ones, without importation or customs or shipping or storage fees. Only in Owerri!

But it was really nice being HOMe and seeing family and places I hadn’t seen in years! Hopefully I’ll do that more often especially as there are at least 5 flights everyday from Lagos to Owerri!

I hope you’ve enjoyed this post and the ones before this. You can read the others here, here and here.

the art of being Home – Travel

As is rather common in Nigeria, more people live outside their states of origin than within. in like manner, I live in one part of Nigeria but originate, as in my family bloodline flows from a different part. In my time so far, I have used the major forms of transportation in Lagos. I have airplane’d, Uber’d, taxi’d, private car’d, hire car’d, Keke Marwa’d, bus’d, and as recent as last Sunday, okada’d! Huwaddav thought!! My sister must not hear this. I’m sure I had sworn never to take them crazy quarter-life weapons of singular destruction. The only one I’ve not entered is Molue – maybe I’ve been permanently delivered from that! Amen? Continue reading