THE STORY OF THE LUBES

 Disclaimer!!!

Okay before I start on this story, let me first note that if you aren't above 18 years old leave quickly o! moonwalk off my blog now before I taint your unsullied minds.

Someone recently told me after a heated debate with him that I sound "unbelievably innocent", later in the privacy of my cloak room I would try to decode what those words meant and finally come to a suitable conclusion. What he was actually trying to say in a subtle manner was that I might be one of those hypocritical young ladies who are familiar with the ways of the world in some sense but pretend to be naive and oblivious of these happenings. In his defense though, I can understand why a twenty year old who is ignorant about relationships, dating, and sex related topics can be unbelievable in our present perverse society.

Preamble over! let's start the story;  I have a very good friend at the office, her name is Joanna, fondly called "Jojo" by many, she is beauty and brains bound up in one slender body lol! Joanna's Godmother owns a respectable Pharmacy store just opposite the office, so we sometimes stroll over to buy stuff, or "play  with G-mama" {Jojo's pet name for her God mother}. G-mama's Pharmacy is very foreign looking, unlike any pharmacy I've seen in Lagos {so I don't know what pharmacy stores on the island looks like, sue me!}. During one of our numerous visits to the pharmacy, my eyes caught some colorful and pretty shaped bottles on a shelf and on subsequent visits to the store my eyes would somehow wonder to that particular shelf and I would just stare in awe of the colorful bottles. {I love bright colors!}.  

Unknown to me, Jojo had been watching me for a while as I stared at these bottles, one day she had to ask me why my eyes were always glued to the same shelf whenever we were at the store, I decided to be honest with my friend and so I admitted to her my fascination for those fancy bottles, I was just gushing to her about how pretty and well packaged the boxes were, then I guess she asked me if I knew what those "pretty bottles" were used for. I hadn't really thought about that aspect though, but at that point, after briefly thinking, I came to the most absurd inference that it had got to be an "edible gel" like one of those really yummy foreign candies that Yankee kids snack on {after-all G-mama's pharmacy had a foreign aura}. 

 My beautiful friend looked at me at first like "this girl has got to be joking" but my very clueless and confused expression convinced her that Peace Oshoko was not joking. Jojo laughed at me o! she had a good laugh at the whole situation, and she went on about how i was "so cute" I was still looking like "okay why are you laughing now"? Jojo then explained to me, in very sketchy details, the function of the "Lubricating Gel". Yeah! you heard me! it was a freaking Lubricating Gel used in the act of sexual intercourse, then i asked her who actually makes use of the "Lube" {that sounds more funky} I wanted to know if it was the woman or the man that made use of his product. Jojo then threw the question back to me and asked me who I thought made use of it. Readers, that was how I messed up again and told her with my award-winning Obama-Confidence that it had to be a woman's thing. Jojo burst into another round of laughter, she didn't need to point out the accurate answer because right there and then, I figured it out.

This is another story of naive ol'me, growing and making new discoveries for myself in our fast evolving society. 

Hope you had a nice read!

Your naive friend,

Peace Oshoko.

MY FIRST LAGOS TRIP ALONE

Disclaimer!!!!

I wasn't born with a silver spoon o!!! Before you people will now be saying that this girl is too "butty". As a matter of fact, i was born into a not-so-comfortable financially family, in a Nigerian-ghetto neighborhood (which explains why my slangs are tight!) but the Lord did his thing in our pockets. lol!!!

However as i stated in my last blog post, My Sister and I grew up under very tight protection from our parents, so we hardly ever went out to visit people but on rare occasions when we did, it was in the company of either or both of our parents. Prior to this time I had never attempted a trip via public transport alone. Which brings me to my story!

Earlier this year during one of my NYSC CDS (Community Development Service) we had to visit a public secondary school at "Onipetesi". Now I didn't even know where that place was located at. I was busy thinking to myself "Onipetesi! where is that? is that the name of a place or the surname of a person?". actually several thoughts came to mind other thoughts included "How am i going to get there? "I don't even have enough transport fare on me", "What if the place is close to "Obalende", or "Sango Ota", or some really far place like "Yaba"?. This thoughts were spun from the fact that I don't even like going on long distance trips because of this motion sickness- claustrophobia thingy going on with me. (I'm a special child like that). 

And so it came to pass that on that day my Daddy dropped me off at Ikeja Local Government secretariat where my CDS held, My fellow CDS members waited for my dad to leave before they brought up the Onipetesi trip. I was livid, because I sensed a spiteful aura around my CDS colleagues, I mean, why wait for Mr Oshoko (my dad) to leave before bringing the trip up? they knew well enough that my daddy would have dropped me off at Onipetesi if he was aware. 

So, we set out as a group, and I was particularly grateful for that, (even though I would not voice it out because I also resented them). It turned out to my pleasant surprise that Onipetesi estate was just a 50 Naira bus from Ikeja. 

Then again, my joy was short-lived. It was time for us to disperse to our various abodes, that was when I knew I was in for a very turbulent day. First of all, I had to ask someone, a corp member like myself to show me the bus to take to my house (as if the niggress knew my house), I told her I was going to Baruwa sha, so she directed me to enter an Iyana-Ipaja bus and then she assured me that I would be able to locate my way home from the bus- stop. We actually entered the bus together and everything seemed like it was going to be alright for a moment.

Or so I thought. On getting to the Iyana-ipaja bus-stop, I gave a hearty wave to my friend who had helped me out and with Obama-Confidence, trekked the road. After what seemed like a long trek, I realized that I didn't know where the bloody-hell I was going to. I am not a pragmatic thinker and so I started to panic on the road. I was visibly alarmed and I didn't know what to do, I was fighting the tears because I didn't want typical nosey Nigerians to start telling me how I should "stop being a baby", or how I should "learn to start being independent". After walking aimlessly to and fro, wondering how on earth  would be able to cross the express road, some "good Samaritan" sighted me from across the vast main road and crossed over, and then asked me in his poor English if I needed help in crossing. I was skeptical about accepting this man's help because he looked rough, like all these "agbero" conductors. I had no option and before I could even say "yes please" the man had grabbed my hand and led me to the edge of the road, he looked left and right briefly and then we both ran across the road. I thanked him profusely and I would have offered him money but i didn't have enough on me, then he pointed to some very vague place and told me to take a "Keke-Napep" (tricycle) to my bus-stop, then he proceeded to ask me for my phone number, I just walked off, now with the conviction that human intentions could never be genuine.

I still had one issue now that i had been able to cross the road, I still had to find my way home. I looked round and I saw a group of "Okada" men (motorcycle riders) so with Jesus Joy in my heart, I skipped to the "Okada" park and i demanded to be taken to "Egbeda". The men looked at me for a second like I was nuts, (apparently no one took a straight bike from Iyana-Ipaja bus-stop to Egbeda) for this reason, they were convinced that they had met a "mugu" so I was charged N1000 to Egbeda, but I had only 700 naira, still they agreed to take me to Egbeda for that price. I was grateful for that then, but now I realize that they could have taken me to Egbeda for even 200 Naira. Nothing else mattered to me but the fact that I just wanted to be out of that strange environment.

The Okada man dropped me off at Egbeda and then from there I found my way home.

That was my first Experience with public transportation in Lagos alone. I think I handled myself pretty well. Don't you?

Your Naive Friend,
Peace Oshoko