Tickled Beyond Pink

Dear Agama Lizard, how can I become a bubbler?

2012-01-17T00:29:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: This one is a little dark.

Bubbler: Popular kids by virtue of extreme wealth and family connections, extreme charisma and/or good looks, extreme access to parties and in some cases, extreme promiscuity or as they say in the hood, "ho-ing". Those who possess extreme intelligence, extreme kindness and strength of character, extreme loyalty and fairness and the ability to treat everyone equally regardless of their socio-economic status do not qualify unless they possess one or more of the previously listed characteristics.

Dear Agama Lizard,

I attend BattleOfTheSocialClasses Secondary School in Ikoyi, Lagos. I hate school. I am a non-entity. My teachers call me Anopheles Mosquito for reasons unknown. Everything about me seems to incite jokes and scorn. For example, over the Christmas break, I traveled to Owerri with my family. When I came back, I told my classmates and everyone laughed and called me "new masquerade" and "igboskiski" for weeks. To make matters worse, I begged my mother to buy my school bag and school shoes from a popular store called TrendyOverPricedGoodsThatAlsoComeFromChinaAndAbaButAreCoolBecauseTheyAreInABoutique. I am so sorry for taking up valuable space with the lengthy name of the store, but the name of the boutique is highly relevant to my story. Anyways, my mother refused because she had to pay my school fees and put away money for my university fund. When I told her that I was willing to chop cane for not paying my school fees and that I would go to Calabar Polytechnic instead of my dream university, she just gave me a strange look. You see, she does not understand what I am going through. She keeps on packing cooked food for me to take to school and I have told her several times that I would rather have McVites Shortbread and canned Coca-Cola. I am tired of the pungent odor of crayfish, Maggi and tatashe that fills the classroom every time I open my food. One day, I opened my cooler and a girl peered into it, wrinkled her nose and said in disdain, "Is that Egusi?" It was rice and palm-oil stew by the way, but I guess the orange tinge of the stew confused her. I was overcome by a violent wish to dip my hand into the peppery stew and rub it in her eyes, but I resisted. I didn't want people to think I was a tout. My solution has been to starve myself at break time and eat my food on the way home.

I also got into trouble with my parents for staying at my friend's house too long. You see, this is my only opportunity to watch cable and I have to see as many shows and memorize as many lines as possible so that I can pretend that I watch foreign programs. All we have is NTA which is unacceptable to watch because it features programs produced in Nigeria, by Nigerians and for Nigerians. I have been observing the bubblers closely and it seems that the key to popularity is to reject and denounce every aspect of my culture (including my language) and embrace all things colonial. I have even tried to stop speaking too much Igbo at home. God forbid I say "tek" instead of take in front of my classmates. Tosin is still suffering the consequences of saying "shillin" instead of chillin'.

I wore make-up to school one day hoping to increase my appeal. BIG MISTAKE! The boy I have worshiped from afar screamed in laughter and yelled out, "EVERYBODY, SEE IGBOSKISKI OH! She has found money for eye pencil!" I still adore him. He is Zeus and I am his Hera. It doesn't matter to me that he is an arrogant, disrespectful, misogynistic numbskull who doesn't know his times tables and whose only use for girls is quickies in the home economics lab. After all, we shouldn't judge people and we all make mistakes. Take me for example. I made the fatal error of being honest about my favorite food in class. How was I to know that amala is razz and only consumed by the lowest of the low? I always thought that it was a delicacy and a pure expression of Nigerian cuisine and culture. I never seem to get anything right. For culture day, I wore a beautiful lace buba and iro. I was convinced that this would be my day. Zeus would notice me and he would give up his man-whoring ways and allow himself to be transformed by the purity of my heart. Everyone would look at my dress and say, "Wow! What an elegant ensemblage of Yoruba cultural dress!" Unfortunately, when I got to school, everyone was dressed in the latest European fashions and I was given the new title, "Madam Cash".

The ridicule from my teachers makes it worse. One day, Mr. Chuka was flogging us on our bom-bom because our happiness upset him. Everyone had to walk to the front of the class, stand with their backside to the class and receive the "chastisement that would save our wretched mucus-filled souls." When it was my turn, I turned around obediently, only for Mr Chuka to burst into laughter and say, "Look at her nyash like drawing board!" Needless to say, I was given a new title.

Agama, I have concluded that my only hope is to become a bubbler. I will do anything. I will bleach my skin if necessary. My dream man likes yellow girls and my cousin sells a soap that I have heard is very effective. If it works, and he notices me, I am worried about how to respond if he invites me to the home economics lab after school. However, sufficient to the day are the problems thereof. Right now, I need to focus on becoming a bubbler. Please help me!

Love,
Lackofselfesteemandselfawareness

Ogbanje: Official Trailer Voiceover

2011-10-17T23:13:00.000-07:00

The following voice over has been written in pidgin....

GBOWAIII!!!! (Sound effect)

Ogbanje! Abiku! SPIRIT CHILD!!!!! Which kine wahala be dis? If you no get pikin, make una no go to river goddess. Yawah go gas oh!

Doctor: Congratulations madam. You have a bouncing baby girl!
Father: (To mother) You harlot! This is not my child! Why is she yellow like this?
Mother: Bankole, please....

GBOWAIIIIII!!!!!!

Ogbanje! Abiku! SPIRIT CHILD!!!!!! She no dey play, she no dey laugh, she no dey dance! Abi, which kine pikin no dey chop rice?

Mother: Obiageli! Come here now and eat this rice! You have not eaten for three days.
Obiageli the Ogbanje: (With a distant look....) It is okay mummy. I ate in my dream last night.
Grandmother: ABOMINATION!

GBOWAIIIIII!!!!

Obiageli no like im papa. Next tin, craw-craw dey catch Papa Obiageli for body and im bele come big like say im dey carry pikin. Dis one don pass Andrews liver salt oh!

Father: (In pain...) Doctor, help me please. What is wrong with me?
Doctor: Sir....I don't know how to tell you this......our scan revealed uhm....a...a....creature with horns and wings in your stomach.
Father: (Faints...)

GBOWAIIIIII!!!!

Make una no vex Obiageli oh! She no dey take rubbish! Mosquito no fit bite am sef!

Teacher: Obiageli! You are a naughty girl! You did not do your homework. Go and kneel down there!
Obiageli: (With an intense and piercing gaze....) No.
Teacher: You will do as I...... (suddenly...) YE! My head oh! My head! HELP ME OH! Something is chooking my head!

GBOWAIIIIIII!!!!!!!

Wahala dey oh! Obiageli no fit siddon for church! Jesus power! Super power!

Obiageli the Ogbanje: Mummy, mummy! I want to go home. My body is hot. The fire is burning me!
Mother: (Alarmed) PASTOR! HELP!
Obiageli the Ogbanje: NO! NO! Tell him to go away!

GBOWAIIIIIIIII!!!!!

Obiageli the spirit child! Obiageli the abiku! Obiageli the Ogbanje!!!!! YOU CANNOT MISS IT! We dey make am plenty-plenty at 51 Iweka Road Onitsha. GET YOUR COPY.....NOW!

WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH?

2011-08-08T00:12:00.000-07:00

The title of this blog is one of the most commonly uttered phrases in a Nigerian's linguistic repertoire. It is used with gusto in a variety of situations. Here are some of my favorites, inspired by true stories from friends and family (he-he-he):

You are watching a movie with your father. All of a sudden, the movie switches to a sex scene. Clearly embarrassed and with a disdainful expression your father says, "AH-AH! WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH?!"
You are seven years old and you attend an upperclass school where your fellow classmates dine on expensive imported snacks for lunch. You open your lunch box one day in the midst of your bourgeouise crowd and find that you mother has packed you some beans, dodo and dangerous piece of goat meat with a side of garri (just the way you like it!). After an akward moment (children can be so cruel), you say, "WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH?! I TOLD MY HOUSE GIRL TO STOP GIVING ME BEANS!"
You have been selected to be a bridesmaid at your friends wedding in Nigerian. Unknown to you, your friend has enlisted the services of Aunty Funmi, a "cut-and-sew" quack seamstress in her neighbourhood to cut costs. An hour before the wedding is set to begin, you lift the dress out of the bag and scream, "WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH?! DID SHE MAKE THIS NONSENSE WITH HER EYES CLOSED?!"
You have started talking to the boy down the street. He is young, fly and frustratingly gorgeous. However, you only talk to him outside your gate when your parents are at work. One day, you are talking to the young man and your father comes home from work unexpectedly. He shouts, "WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH?! WHO TOLD YOU THAT YOU CAN TALK TO BOYS?!"
Your mother's snobby friend is in for a visit. Your mother hurriedly gives the housegirl Sikira money to buy soft drinks and McVites Digestives. Fifteen minutes later, she returns with a tray of soft drinks and Okin Buscuits. Your mother screams, "WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH?! HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ME EATING ALL THIS LOCAL BUSCUITS?!"

I hope you had fun, because I did!

How To Be "Creme" In A Nigerian Secondary School

2011-07-19T01:17:00.003-07:00

Creme: Sophisticated and westernized in word and deed; genteel and refined and not given to that quintessential Nigerian form of loudness. The epitome of class and elegance. Seeming to belong to the higher echelons of Nigerian society.

Antonym:"Razz"

Disclaimer: This is written in a sarcastic tone to poke fun at the superficiality of secondary school and the class distinctions that unfortunately existed in the schools I attended. It is not intended to degrade anyone so just enjoy.

An "okada" or "molue" will simply not do as your primary means of transportation. If you must demean yourself in this fashion, you must wear a hat with a wide brim so that nobody of note in your bourgeois secondary school will recognize you. An air-conditioned car with a driver is more preferable. IT MUST BE AIR-CONDITIONED! If the AC stops working, roll the windows up anyway. I don't care how hot it is! Remember, your creme-ness is at stake. Utilize a good quality talcum powder to soak up the sweat.
When craving local, roadside snacks such as "boli" or "puff puff", do not ever buy it yourself. If you cannot supress your base cravings for this type of fare, you simply must send somebody else to do the dirty work. Your fine palatte is more suited to imported buscuits, overpriced chocolate bars, and canned soft drinks (as the gnarled and overused glass bottles are for the common folk). In fact, make it a point to spend all your pocket money on these items and take them to school for lunch. Make sure everybody sees you eating them and say things like, "Does anyone want this Bounty? I am so tired of eating these things everyday!"
Your school uniform must be fly! Iron it within half an inch of its life until the cotton shines. Never go to school with your uniform wrinkled. Yes....I know the National Electric Power Authority (NEPA) is so inefficient, but the last thing you want is for anyone to think that your parents cannot afford a generator! At least one of your accessories must be from America or England. Even if it is only a watch, it seals your overseas connections in the eyes of everybody at school.
You simply must have your own room and make sure you make mention of "your room" to your friends at school. Telling them that you share a room with your siblings will evoke horrific images of a crowded, mosquito-ridden space, and this is not what you want. If you do share a room, make sure it does not come up in conversation.
You must never be caught partaking of "Tasty Time" and other locally produced iced lollies after school! I understand that it is only twenty naira, which is where the problem lies. I will admit, the tart grape flavor of Tasty Time is rather appealing. But it is not worth your reputation! Opt for a more expensive import. It will cost you all your lunch money but you must be strong and starve for the rest of the week. As they say, short term pain for long term gain.
We all have to cope with the terrible inconvenience of braiding our hair for school. However, understand that some hairstyles are unacceptable such as "police cap" and "koroba". ABSOLUTELY AND DOWNRIGHT MEDIEVAL! Opt for a simple and elegant "all back" style with "brush" in the front.
Become aquainted with the popular British and American shops. That way, when your friends are talking about how crowded Argos is you can interject with a firm, "Yes oh." You must keep it hidden that you have never left Nigeria! Ghana, Cameroon and the Ivory Coast do not count as international travels. If you have close relatives that travel regularly or siblings abroad, you might be able to ride on their "janded-ness", but this can be tricky. Think about it carefully.
Do not speak in your native language too much. It is repulsive. If you must, speak it carefully and smoothly, as if you have a silk scarf in your mouth. Please, do not throw your tongue all over the place or bark! Igbo can be so aggresive and Yoruba so "agbero-ish". Exercise restraint or your hopes of being creme will be forever lost.
YOU MUST HAVE A SATELLITE DISH!
Eating too much garri is an indicator of "bushness". This must stop.

House Hunters: Lincoln Nebraska

2011-07-06T00:17:00.000-07:00

Around noon-day on the Fourth of July, in the year of our Lord, 2011, I journeyed to Lincoln, Nebraska after a hearty lunch of riblets, baked beans and potato salad (thanks Nicole). My brave companion was my friend Crystal "Spectra" Newsome and my quest was to find an apartment that wouldn't render me penniless for the duration of my doctoral career.

Our search began on the 5th at 10 p.m. I was excited and nervous, smelling in the air the poignant promise of a new life in the cornfields of Nebraska. I remember now the exact moment when my hopes and dreams were rudely snatched away from me by a fly the size of my head. Right in front of the apartment that we were shown was a white bucket with POOP in it. Oh yes people.....HUMAN POOP! HAHAHAHAHA (nervous, incredulous laugh).

"Why is there poop in the BUCKET?!"

"Fertilizer" he says. FERTILIZER! Wh.....wh.....WHAT! What kind of plants in an apartment complex require HUMAN POOP? BEGONIAS?!

Let's just say I am wrong and it was indeed fertilizer. WHAT IN THE CORNHUSKING WORLD IS IT DOING IN FRONT OF THE APARTMENT?! As my Igbo forefathers would say, "ABOMINATION! YOU MUSTU NOTU PUTU DEADU TINS IN THE LAND OF THE LIVING!"

By the grace of God, things turned around and we found a delightful, little apartment, perfect for a graduate student of humble means such as myself! Things are looking up people. Things are looking up.

Seriously Misplaced Conclusions

2011-07-01T18:19:00.000-07:00

Scenario 1: Adewale, considered to be the finest, most upstanding young man in Redeemed Christian Church Ikoyi, is seen at 11:30 pm by Omolola (the biggest busybody in the whole wide world) leading a scantily clad young lady out of a seedy liquor store called Ogogoro International.

She thinks: I knew it! Woman-wrapper oshi! (useless womanizer). No wonder he is always looking at me at church as if he has not seen a woman before. ASHEWO MAN! (male prostitute). Can you imagine! Thirty-something and not married....WHAT A WHOREMONGER! No wonder he has not approached any of the girls in church. Apparently, we are not trashy enough for him. I will expose him!

Reality: The young lady is Adewale's rebellious fourteen year old cousin who has a penchant for sneaking out of the house. He has been looking for her all night.

Scenario 2: Uche is a good-looking, clean-cut, dashing sort of Igbo guy. His edge-up is so sharp, you could use it to skin a bush rat. He heads to work, slides into his cubicle, ready to conquer the world with the brilliance of his thousand watt smile. Lisa a girl who sits across from him seems to be looking his way a lot today.

He thinks: "Oh Uche, you fine beast. Poor thing. It's a pity, but she is wasting her time. She is not my type.....not thick enough. If she had long hair, I could maybe work with it. Nah!!!! She won't look good next to me. She is too black!

Reality: Lisa is cross-eyed.

Scenario 3: Jide a young, single, well-built guy is driving the S-Class Mercedes of a rich middle-aged widow, Madame Kofo Opadeji. He has been spotted at different times during the week by her neighbor, Yinka Bashorun (THE BIGGEST BUSY BODY IN THE WORLD TO THE 50TH POWER).

She thinks: So that dried-up old woman has found herself a boy-toy? AGBAYA! (an adult that does not want to grow up) I understand that she is lonely, but must she go and carry a baby from the cradlle? It is disgraceful! Look at him sweating all over the car with his muscle-top!

Reality: Madame Kofo Opadeji fell down the marble stairs in her Lagos mansion and her nephew from Ibadan has come to take care of her till she recovers.

Scenario 4: Kolade is a regular Lagos guy. He has his sights set on Kate, the prettiest girl in the neighborhood. Finally, he approaches her and she is distant and uncommunicative.

He thinks: All these yellow girls think that they are too good. NONSENSE! She is not even that fine! When you look at her very well, she looks like an animal. Look at her k-leg! (knock knees). So she thinks she can refuse me? Her womb will dry up before she meets someone like me again!

Reality: Kate has just received news that her grandfather who raised her and adopted her when she was abandoned by her parents is terminally ill.

BOMBOI: Nigerian Casanova

2011-06-28T23:32:00.000-07:00

DISCLAIMER: This piece contains distinctly Nigerian humor that might seem confusing to the unknowing audience. It is not to be taken seriously.

Bomboi: Hey there babes....

Girl: (pretends not to hear)

Bomboi: Hey there sugar.....

Girl: (walks a litte faster....still pretends not to hear)

Bomboi: I see you are a shy girl. That is alright! Tenderness turns me on! Love me jeh-jeh, love me tenda!

Girl: (increases pace... begins to look scared)

Bomboi: You look famished. Let me get you a cold Fanta Lemon and a guinea egg.

Girl: (unable to take it anymore...) LEAVE ME ALONE!

Bomboi: It is not that easy.

Girl: (apoplectic...) What is that supposed to mean?

Bomboi: You see, you are like fire and I am like a mosquito. I am fatally attracted to you......

Girl: (looks at him in disbelief for a second or two and begins to run....)

Bomboi: You can run, you can hide, but you cannot escape my love!

The next morning, the girl opens the gate of her father's house to find Bomboi sitting on a concrete slab just outside the gate...

Bomboi: Is that you my hibiscus flower?

Girl: WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

Bomboi: That is a stupid question. After all a tortoise is always with its shell.

Girl: YOU ARE A MAD MAN!

Bomboi: Mad for you my sweet Agbalumo...

Girl: I am going to count to ten. When I finish, I want you gone......OR ELSE!

Bomboi: Okay, I understand. I hear Igbo girls do extra shakara......

Girl: ONE....TWO....THREE......

Bomboi: Ah! You want to play catcha? You are so cheeky.....

Girl: FOUR....FIVE....SIX......

Bomboi: SEVEN......EIGHT.....NINE.......TEN! Oya come and chase me!

Nigerian Customer Service

2011-06-25T00:09:00.000-07:00

CUSTOMER: (with money in hand, shoved forward) Five meatpies and five sausage rolls.... ( the angry and disenfranchised shop keeper decides to ignore customer for no apparent reason, so customer speaks louder....) FIVE MEATPIES AND FIVE SAU....

SHOPKEEPER: (suddenly)...PLEASE STOP SHOUTING!!!! (gets up sluggishly...)

CUSTOMER: AH! What kind of nonsense is this?! Who are you talking to like that?!

SHOPKEEPER: I am talking to you!....and get your dirty money out of my face!

CUSTOMER: God punish you. If you like, eat all the meatpie by yourself (beginning to walk out...)

SHOPKEEPER: I will eat it and I will not give you (said in an annoying sing-song tone) OROBO OSHI! (loosely translated...useless fat person)

CUSTOMER: Eh! (turns around sharply, ready for battle) What did you just say to me you mannerless girl?
SHOPKEEPER: Please if you don't want to buy meatpie, GET OUT OF MY SHOP! You are blocking my business.

CUSTOMER: I SAID.....WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?! (said with a lot of wild gesturing and chest slapping) You don't know me....I will scatter this whole shop!

SHOPKEEPER: I think you want me to physically throw you out....don't let me embarass you...

CUSTOMER: Come and touch me! I will finish you!

SHOPKEEPER: I am warning you...don't let me disgrace you here. Respect yourself....

CUSTOMER: I SAID COME AND TOUCH ME...all you Yoruba people are COWARDS!

SHOPKEEPER: See this yellow piece of Igbo rubbish..... (said with an expression of utter disgust) I am just deciding to pity you because your fat is obstructing your breathing. If I touch you now, everyone will say that I killed you!

Based on my expansive knowledge of Lagos brawls, this scenario could end in one of the following ways:

The customer will charge at the shopkeeper suddenly and violently proving that she is indeed a worthy member of her fiery tribal group, the Igbo's. The shopkeeper who is more bark than bite will endeavor to hold her own in battle but will fail miserably and cry out for help. Then people will appear out of the woodwork to oversee the boxing match.
The customer will charge at the shopkeeper, and then right before planting a blow will withdraw and say, "It is God that will punish you".
The shopkeeper will take off her head tie, fling it on the floor dramatically and ask the busy bodies who have appeared out of nowhere to keep her from killing the customer. The customer will further berate the shopkeeper for being a Yoruba coward. More tribal references will flow from either side and when the opponents are tired of talking, they will go home.
The shopkeeper will bring out a random knife and shank the mess out of the customer. For her murderous actions, she will be burnt in the middle of Ikorodu road.
With one punch, the customer will knock the snot out of the shopkeeper and throw and spit meatpies at her unconcious body, screaming, "GOD PUNISH YOU AND YOUR MEATPIE....RUBBISH!"