5 Things to do to before the Year Ends

Ding dong, ding dong, the town bell started ringing just as the clock struck 12. As if the sound of the bell was indication of an impending attack, the whole town was thrown into a frenzy. Men, women, young, old, everyone started running helter skelter, some trying to return stolen goods, some trying to pay their debts, the lazy ones attempted to hurriedly complete projects they should have.

It was time. Time for each and every townsman to account for time spent, money earned, money spent, words said, actions, thoughts, everything!

"QUIET!" screamed the thunderous voice of a guard.

"Enough of this hullabaloo. You will all form a queue and wait your turn to go into the fort. You'll meet the almighty King Vasto and to him will you give account."

Like a tranquilized bear, everyone was immediately calm. Everyone obeyed, order and organization, immediately restored. 

Somewhere on the queue, Mr Stereovida was queasy. He tapped Mr Agiliso who stood behind him on his left arm. Mr Agiliso looked up with a smile on his face,

"Yes?"

"You look happy," was Stereovida's rather lame reply.

"I certainly am, I used all my assets well. Invested and multiplied all a great fold." 

He noticed the uneasiness in Stereovida's eyes and asked,

"You didn't use yours well?"

"No I didn't. I work as a messenger for one of the noble families. I don't have that much talent. All I ever did was, well, run errands. Nothing more."

"Oh my! King Vasto would be disappointed. I heard he feeds the brain, heart, hands and legs of those who do not impress him to his pet piranhas."

About an hour later, a guard led Stereovida into the fort. He stood before the King and gave his account. The King was very disappointed. 

"Guards! Take him away. He is to be fed to the piranhas. Let them have a human dinner," screamed the King.

                   ●● Press PAUSE ●●

The year ends in about 48 hours. What special thing have you accomplished this year? You got married? If it wasn't on the moon, it's not special. You gained admission? Except you got it without writing exams, No, it's not special. Job promotion, higher pay? Except it's made you as rich as Bill gates, No, it's nothing.

Now you're frustrated. Thinking,  have I really spent 363 days without doing anything special? Calm your nerves. I've gatcha.

Below are five things to do before the year runs out. Five cool things that'll certify your year awesome.

1. Become a Polyglot                                        In two days you'll learn to speak several languages. Impossible? I think not! It's really simple. List at least 7 different languages on a paper . For each language, find out how to say hello (use google!). Note them down and commit them to memory. In less than ten minutes, you'll be able to speak at least 7 different languagues. Who cares if it's only 'hello' you can utter?  Nobody.                                      
2. Set a Record                                             Woah. Woah. Slow down. No one mentioned Guiness world record. Your greatest competition is you. So you'll be setting a YOUrecord. Try something you have never done before like sticking your tongue out without retracting it for 6hours or talking backwards. It is as easy as farting.                                                                    
3. Become an Artist                                 Everyone knows Leonardo da Vinci for his works of art especially the Mona Lisa. You'll also create a work of art. It could be a few pencil strokes, a drawing of a stickman, a painting of a leaf or calligraphy.  Art is a means of communication, it doesn't say meaningful communication, neither does it say meaningless communication. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Feel free to express yourself.                                                                   
4. Design It!                                                  Yuup, design something.  A dress, a shoe, your future house, a car, anything! You cannot go wrong with creating a design. Cause a mistake made is still part of the design. Awesome, isn't it?                                
5. Shake It!                                                             It is obviously the season of creating dance steps. So why shouldn't you join the trend? Create your dance step. Personalize it. It could be as simple as lifting your legs and swinging your arms. It's your creation, own it! Teach your family and friends and have them teach their friends who'll teach friends that'll teach their friends. It'll go on and on like that. Who knows, your dance might be the next Gangnam style.

So there you have it. Five totally awesome things to do before the year runs out. Do them all and you would have achieved a lot. Thank me later. I told y'all I had your backs. *winks* Hurry. Time waits for no man.

●● Rewind ●●

●●Press Play ●●

About an hour later, a guard led Stereovida into the fort. He stood before the King and gave his account. The King was very impressed.

"You mean you learnt over ten languagues,  walked a kilometre on your hands, drew  darkness, designed a flying shoe and  invented DEDANS, whatever that is, despite the meagre talent I bestowed on you?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

" I am impressed. "

"Guards! Bring the piranha tank. Give it to this young man. Tonight, this young  man will be having a fish dinner."

Merry Christmas

It was a starry fullmoon night. 'Hoooowwwl' went a pack of wolves somewhere in the woods. Seated around the feet of old man Whitebeard were his grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great great grandchildren. He cleared his throat and in his signature croaky voice, he narrated an ancient tale.

"A long long time back, in an ancient town, lived a fair maiden. She was so fair that she was handpicked by forces, forces far greater than any mortal could fathom to be the bearer of the best thing to ever happen to mankind. Blessed she was indeed, for in Bethlehem of Judea, in a manger, she bore a son, not one of a man and a woman but one of the spirit. His name, EMMANUEL."

Drumroll
Fireworks
Cymbals clash
Bells chime
More fireworks
Final drumroll
Upbeat version of 'Joy to the World' starts playing in background.

Merry Christmas people. Glad you made it to this day. We cerebrate the birth of Christ today, the birth of peace, joy, forgiveness,  a second chance, salvation! The birth of God's greatest gift to man, a gift of love.

So let's make our Heavenly father happy today, shall we? Let's reciprocate God's love to us. Show some love today. Smile and wave at that little boy walking down the street, help that old woman across the road, say thank you to the taxi driver, pray for the crippled beggar on the sidewalk, try cracking a joke at work, make funny faces at your neighbour's baby, be polite to the woman selling fish in the market. Remember,  it's the little things that matter most.

Love is not all about material things. Love is showing compassion, being selfless, empathy for others, being altruistic, giving with expecting  nothing in return, rendering help to the helpless. It costs nothing to give love,  but in giving love, you are sure to receive more. Do not forget this as you celebrate christmas this year.

From femmefuntale, we love you and wish you the best of this season. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Upbeat version of  We Wish You A Merry Christmas blasts through speakers.

WordPower

"Go sef and don't return again!"
She never did return ever again.

"Mike, Mike, Mike!" He could hear his sister screaming his name like the house was on fire and they needed to evacuate all their valuables but alas!, there was no fire. It was just her annoying habit to scream like she was five houses away when a normal, civil person could have easily knocked on his door and expressed him or herself.

As it was, he ignored her petulant screams and focused on the soccer game right in front of him as his opponents were already a goal to the good. He cursed softly and rued his lack of concentration. He despised losing even when he knew he could easily restart the game.  Suddenly the door to his room flew open with the force of a Big Show K.O punch and the reading of a earth tremor that the Richter's scale could easily pick up.

"Is it that you deaf, mad or both?" His sister screamed again.
"Didn't you hear me calling you?" He continued ignoring her like he was still alone in the room.
"Mike I'm talking to you and not a statue, answer me or I'll shut down that laptop in your face," she threatened.

He still refused to acknowledge her presence, she went through with her threat and shut down the system. This got her the desired attention as he sprang up in rage, eyes blazing and shooting deadly daggers at her.

"I told you I'd shut it down, didn't I?" She asked defiantly.
"Are you mad? What is your problem Anna? Can't you stay a day without frustrating me?". This was despite the fact that she had three years on him.

"Go and do the dishes, that's the reason I've been screaming your name since".

This was one of the reasons he wished he had a junior sibling, someone to shoulder the responsibility of the tedious and downright degrading house chores. Damn ASUU for going on this cursed strike, damn his parents for making him the second and last born, damn his sister for being such a malignant tumour that refused to go away, damn it all to hell and back. Storming out of his room, he banged the door so hard it sent shivers of fear around the whole house and the building seemed to shrink to show how terrified it was. Mumbling jargon under his breath, he barged into the kitchen with the grace of a queen Pig and looked at the dirty plates in disgust, they stared back at him defiantly as if daring him to turn his back on them.

"Why can't we eat in leaves and just discard them instead of facing this arduous task?" He soliloquized.

He attacked the plates with the zeal of a prisoner facing the hangman and washed gingerly. After what seemed like an eternity to him, he rinsed the last of the plates, gave a long sigh of relief and stepped out of the kitchen. Heading back to his room to pick up from where he left off from his beloveth game, his sister's dreaded voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Mike, you are through? Ehen, mumsy said you should wash the toilet and bathroom in the master's bedroom."
"What?" He thundered
"Mumsy didn't tell me anything o and I remember seeing her this morning before she left."
"She called me later," Anna countered.
"Said something about you cleaning it properly."
"Okay, Okay,  I'll clean it later," he replied grudgingly.
"No, clean it now now before you think of any game."
"I said I'll clean it na, is it running away ni?" He was reaching boiling point.
"Is your laptop running away too?" She asked triumphantly, rearing her head forward with her hands on her hip in that annoyingly feminine way.

He called on the gods of self-control and resisted the urge to slap her and instead walked to his room.

"Well I'm going to the market now," She said after a while.
"Make sure they are washed before I get back."
"Go sef and never return!" he retorted in anger.
A look of hurt flashed over her beautiful features but it was swiftly replaced with a calm demeanour.

She never did return.

Her head was bashed when one of the tyres of the bike she was transporting on flew out on the highway hurlting the bike, the rider and her to the ground. The oncoming vehicle was moving too fast to slow down.

By  @djay_prinze

12 Days of Christmas: 4

Finally! We're here. The tail of the tale. Thank you for following the story. If you're not, you should click here to read the head, here to read the upper trunk and here,  the lower trunk. Now, let the tail wag!

12 Days of Christmas

"'Sup ma nizzle, what's cooking?" I decided to go all gangster on Kenke as I entered the kitchen. 

"Dragon ears, leprechaun nails and toothfairy wings."
"How about pixie dust?"
"Yeah. That too."
We both laughed. We were going to have chicken and chips. I remembered we had no ketchup. There and then, I wished I had a genie that could magically produce ketchup. I figured my knight could get me one and I made a mental note 'Day 8 - Genie in an oil lamp.'   Kenke was busy frying so I had to go buy the ketchup. I took money from Kenke's purse (durrh! I work, you pay).

I was walking down the street when a sleek 2014 Toyota Avalon cruised by. The driver looked handsome and young. If only I had a car...'Day 9 -  2014 Toyota Avalon.'
The car stopped a few feet ahead of me, I started catwalking on impulse, swaying left and right like a tree being blown by the wind. The driver got out, smiled and waved. I smiled back, exposing my black gum. As I raised my hand to wave back, a Barbie-like lady, complete with the hair and makeup, shot out of the shop adjacent to me. She raced into his arms and planted a kiss on his cheek. Boy, I was jealous! I just walked past them with the little dignity I had left.

About 15minutes later I was going through the pedestrian gate. My mind drifted to the earlier disconcerting incidence, centering on the lady's appearance. 'Day 10 and 11 -   human hair and Victoria's secret makeup kit respectively'. With that, I'll be the one kissing men in posh cars real soon. The thought was solace enough for me.

I opened the door to the apartment and stepped in. An eerie feeling swept over me. It was oddly quiet. I called Kenke's name; no reply.  I checked the three bedrooms in the apartment and they appeared normal. I entered the kitchen, everything was in place, the potatoes and chicken, all fried. Grisly thoughts started running through my mind. What if some evil person had abducted Kenke, or someone close to her had had an accident, or died? Or could she have been raptured. I was scared for myself. Everywhere was graveyard still. I tiptoed to my room for fear of alerting who-knows-who?  I picked up my phone and dialled Kenke's number. I heard her ringtone reverberate through the apartment. Kenke hardly ever left her phone at home. My fears heightened. I was so befuddled that I just pulled out the paper from beneath my pillow  and updated the list. I scanned the list again and shook my head at my folly. What sort of 21year old wasted time fantasizing about some knight in shining armour and some stupid list of gifts? I knew the answer. An unhappy, lonely and bored one. I had no true friends, only acquitances. Family? I was an only child and I had had lost both parents about a year ago. Extended family? They were as the name implied, extended! I gazed at the paper for a while and drew a large X on it. Tears welled up in my eyes. Kenke, she was a million in one to me. She was my family, friend and 'hater'. I snickered at the last one. She was heaven-sent, like a guardian angel. We had shared a lot together, the good, the bad and the ugly. She made me smile, laugh and cry. She made me happy. I missed her, especially her customary banters. I felt sad. Across the big X I had drawn on the paper, I wrote the word HAPPY in bold. It was all I truly wanted for Christmas and after. What would it profit me to have a knight deliver gifts of all sorts and still remain unhappy.  A wise man once said to me, "Happiness is the meaning and purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence."  I zombie-walked to the window and gazed at the stars. Like in a disney cartoon, I saw a shooting star. I closed my eyes and wished for the one thing my heart most desired. I decided to lie on my bed, close my eyes and relax when out of the blue,

"Apa! Apa! Where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are." Kenke called out in a singsong voice.
"There you are. Didn't you hear me call you?" She said as she entered my room.
"Where have you been? Why did you leave the house for so long? You didn't even lock the door!"
"I was in the backyard cutting aloevera for my facemask. I saw you as you entered the compound sef. I didn't even spend upto five minutes in the backyard. Missed me, have you?" She asked with a wide grin.

I hissed and pushed past her.
"I'm going to get my food. Feel free to feast on that silly question you just asked. Miss you? Tufiakwa."

If only she knew how emotional I had gotten few minutes earlier because I thought something bad had happened. I bit my lip and shook my head in disbelief   .
"Hey, hey, don't take the biggest chicken lap. That's reserved for me and me alone," she warned
"Stop me if you can."
And we  raced to the kitchen.

LE FIN

12 Days of Christmas: 3

Click here to read the first and introductory part of this tale and here to read the second part .

12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS contd.

The knight approached with a dress made of dazzling diamonds nestled in his hands. He was less than a hundred metre away from me when the earth shook violently. I was panicky. A strong wind started slapping at me. Though it was cold, sweat beads trickled down my body.

That was when I opened my eyes. The windows were open and it was raining. The thunder rumbled with a deafening noise. I reached for my wristwatch and checked the time. It read 6:35. I decided to prepare for work. I had been late everyday since the previous Monday. It was Friday, the last working day. I decided to redeem myself.

I skipped breakfast and left for work. I hadn't seen Kenke. Strange.

I was surprised the office was packed full and bustling with activities quite early. I walked to my desk. I was barely seated when I heard a voice, "My office. Now!" It was my boss. I trotted behind him, into his office.
He slammed the door and yelled, "I won't tolerate this. You've been late everyday since Monday."

But not today, I thought. I was starting to apologize but he cut me off.

"Are you a nursing mother? If you still want this job, you know what to do."

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." I turned to leave.

"Next time, even if your life depended on it, do not come to work as late as 11.25am"
I was taken aback, I glanced at the wall clock in his office. 11.25. Oh no. I checked my watch, still 6:35.

"Yes sir." I walked out of his office.

I felt betrayed by my watch, as well as the weather, partners in crime. The watch had cost me N500. The mallam that sold it to me six months ago swore it was original. I had changed the battery seven times since then. I grunted.

The day went by swiftly and work closed. I decided to walk home, it was a seven minute walk. I was contemplating getting a new watch or changing the battery when something poured down on me. I looked up. It wasn't rain. Some dunderhead from one of the shops above had poured 'water' on me. I smelt fish stew. It was all over me. Examining my white blouse, I wanted to cry.  I took a step back to get a better view of the shop and yell my head off at whoever had ruined my favourite blouse. I missed my step and broke a heel. I stared at the broken stiletto heel in disbelief.

"Today can't get anyworse. Geez! Why am I so unlucky?" Then the rain started. But for the rain, the world have easily witnessed a grown 21-year old shed tears.

"Why don't you wait in here till the rain stops," a good Nigerian beckoned me to come into his shop. I walked in and thanked him. He helped me with my bag and got me a chair. He gave me a towel with which I dried myself.

"Sorry about your blouse and shoe."
"Thank you."
"Please relax, the rain will stop soon."
"Thank you again."
"Ma'am, please give me a second. I want to get something from my friend in the next shop. I'll be back in a jiffy."

There were still gentlemen in Ibadan. I was impressed. He had been gone for about fifteen minutes and the rain had subsided. I reached for my bag to get my phone. I wanted to call Kenke to ask her to meet me in the shop with an umbrella and a pair of flipflops. It was very close to the house. She wouldn't object. I didn't find the phone. I searched frantically for it. Then it dawned on me, I had been robbed. The 'gentleman' had stolen my Curve 2. How did he do it? I was confused.
I was in a state of shock, "No. Oh no. Oh no. No. No." I closed my eyes and kept shaking my head. "No. No. No." Someone slapped my arm and opened my eyes.

"Wake up joor. Let's make dinner." Kenke was standing by my bed.
"Am I dreaming? " I rubbed my eyes lazily.
"Get up woman.'Cept you want to eat that piece of paper in your hand."

I sent her away with a wave of my hand. "I'll join you soon."
I looked at the paper then I remembered. I slept off daydreaming about my million dollar dress.
I recounted all that happened in the dream and thanked my stars it was just a dream. I looked at the paper knowingly. I had figured what i wanted for the next six days of Christmas.
Day 2: a Rolex wristwatch.
Day 3: a white Versace blouse.
Day 4: Two pairs of Tom Ford pumps.
Day 5: a Louis Vuitton umbrella.
Day 6: an iPhone 5s.
Day 7: a Prada bag.

They say prevention is better than cure. The dream might have been a warning.  Plus my wardrobe was so 16th century.
"My knight is in for it." I said out loud and chuckled.
"Sunla! Hurry up!" Sunla was another of the many names Kenke had for me. I placed the paper under my pillow and two-stepped into the kitchen cheerily.

The concluding part of this *fill the blank* tale will be posted on Sunday the 15th *suspense theme plays*. What'll happen next? I dont know but Sunday will tell. Thanks for reading. Have a goodluck filled Friday the 13th.

12 days of Christmas: 2

Click here to read previous part.

Deulofeu attempted to pass the ball to Mirallas but Wilshere was quick to intercept the ball. He made a short pass to Ozil. Ozil expertly tackled Mirallas, sending him to the grass and headed for the goal post. Ozil raised his leg to shoot the ball, the timer on the tv read 87:57. If he could successfully drive the ball into the net, it would be a 3-2 victory for Arsenal against Everton. Heart in mouth, fists clenched, tension lines running the length of my forehead, butt almost falling off the chair, I watched Ozil's shot drive the ball towards the net when out of nowhere,

"How hot do I look in this dress? Would you rate me ten over ten or ten over ten? This gown is perfecto. The colour and texture complement my skin. See how it accentuates my curves. It's the right length. And with those red pumps I received on my birthday, the ones you gave me, I'd look se-en-sa-tional!" She stopped ranting as she finished dusting imaginary particles off her new gown.

If looks could kill, Kenke would be dining with her ancestors. And if thoughts could, she'd be singing Hossanna with the angels. Eitherway, she'd be six feet under. I let out an exasperated sigh and headed for my room. I was too angry to utter a word.

"One day the gods will smile on you and bless you with real woman curves." She jeered at me.

I grunted, slammed the door and sank into the only chair in my room. I was infuriated and frustrated. At 21, I still had the shape of an overweight five-year old. A breathing potato with arms and legs. I secretly prayed Kenke was right about the gods blessing me.

Thinking of how best to kill time, I remembered the football match. I grabbed my laptop and surfed the internet for the final results of the match. Ozil had scored the goal. Arsenal won. Instantly, all was well with the world again.

Kenke and her shenanigans, I thought back to the incident, shook my head and smiled. As much as I hated to admit it, she was indeed lovely in her new dress. That was when something in my head sparked. In no time, I found what I wanted via google. I smiled at it.

I might not look 'se-en-sational' in a dress, I thought, but I could look like a million dollars. I found a $17.6 million dress, the most expensive dress in the world. It looked almost ordinary, it was infact a muslim-like robe, black and red, but for the beautiful diamonds set on it. I'd be a walking million dollar diamond. The sound of it felt good.

On a piece of paper, I wrote, '1st Day of Christmas: $17 million dress'.

I smiled at the paper and at the image of a dazed Kenke when she sees me rocking such a dress. Well, it's all upto my Knight in shiny armour to make it a reality. I laughed out loud and shut my eyes.

Few minutes later, a knight was approaching me with a dress made of dazzling diamonds.


What will be next on the list? Click here to find out.

12 Days of Christmas

"Jingle bells
Jingle bells
Jingle all the way..."
The popular christmas carol chimed away from somewhere within the apartment.
Standing by the window, I looked out, feeding my eyes with the scene from the busy street. People of different shapes, sizes and colours were splashed all over. Red and green dotted the scenery here and there.

"La la la, la la la , la la la la la...," I started humming the carol to myself.

"Pantax! Pantax!! Come help me with this tree. It is heavier than Rick Ross, Fat Joe and you put together. Hurry! Shapish!" It was Mizkenke calling me to help her move the Christmas tree from the store. I knew better than to waste time arguing a plastic tree couldn't be heavier than all three of us put together. So, I just scampered off to the store and helped her move it to a corner of the living room.

I watched her hang all sorts on the tree. "She really is a Christmas enthusiast," I thought to myself.

"It's going to be a wonderful Christmas," she started as if hearing my thoughts.

"I have all sorts lined up for this period. It's going to be off the shizzle. I'm going to that spa, the one that just opened, to treat myself like the queen I am. I'll also shop for clothes and hair products. I'm tired of extensions, I'll be rocking my short hair this period."

She finished and inspected her work on the tree.

"By the way, there is this very
biriful gown I bought, it would be delivered to me soon. Prepare to have your heart eaten by envy."

She snatched the tv remote from me and changed the channel from Soundcity to Food Network.

"Kenke! Why are you such a bully? You just made me miss Tiwa's performance," I complained.

"I also want to try tons and tons of healthy food recipe," she continued, ignoring me.

"I can't remember all. I wrote them down in my journal. I'll read them to you when I'm done watching this."

I shot her the 'don't even dream of it' look. She didnt see it, she was all focused on tv.

A tv commercial was on. She turned to me, grinning mischievously, "Dele really is a darling. He planned the whole Christmas thing with me. Isn't he the best boyfriend in the world?"

"No, he is a bozo. You have brainwashed the poor fella. Please enjoy your show and leave me!" I screamed at her knowing what she was driving at.

"So much envy. I feel your pain. I told you not to friend zone all those nice guys. I told you karma never forgets. I told you but you wouldn't listen. I'm really sorry for you," She replied sarcastically.

Kenke, she was all out to torture me, as usual. Even after a year of living in the same flat and constant torture, I still wasn't used to it. Throwing a napkin at her, I said, "I already have someone."

"You do? Is he virtual or real? How soon do you plan to friend zone him, Queen of the friend zone?" She replied sarcastically.

I removed my hair band and threw it at her.

"I'll surprise you this christmas. I've found true love. No jokes. My knight in shiny armour riding on a snow-white horse. He is on his way, galloping towards me from the Sahara. He is probably wondering how to surprise me and make this christmas my best yet," I replied with a wink.

"Uhun, uhun," she urged me to continue.

"And I've been thinking, there are 12 things I'll want for christmas that'll totally blow me away."

Fighting the urge to laugh, she said, "blow you away? What are you aiming at? To become shaped like a hippo?"

I threw a pillow at her this time.

Undaunted by her remark, I continued, "Well, I'll draw up a list of the 12 things I want. One for each day of the 12 days of Christmas, like in the carol. Before the year runs out, he'll be outside this house with a truckload of gifts for me. My knight in shiny armour is a Chris Hemsworth clone. With sexy abs, biceps..."

Kenke's outburst cut me off. I felt so ridiculous.

"I'm so not going to meet this knight because he lives in your head. And what's that you were saying about Chris Hemsworth? Like magic he'll know what you have on your list? You are speaking bonkers. You better awake from your slumber, sleeping beauty. Life is no disney fairytale. The only knight that'll come for you is one with shiny golden hair, Bance!"

With that I grabbed a stool and chased her around the house.

The chase was energy sapping. Exhausted, I slumped down in a chair and stared at imaginary stars on the wall. My head was at work trying to decide what and what I wanted for Christmas, what to expect from my Knight. Then I remembered, I was 87mins behind schedule for the Arsenal-Everton match. Moving at the speed of light,I tuned in just in time to catch Ozil shoot the ball. Clenching my fists, I watched the ball head for the net when out of nowhere...

The continuation will be available on Wednesday the 11th. Make sure you return to read what happens next and what I'll want for the 1st day. Thank you for reading.

Happy Christmas

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night (please choose most applicable). Happy newday. Happy Sunday. Happy new week. Happy second week of the last month of the year. Happy! Happy!! Happy!!! Oh yeah, I'm happy. You definitely wouldn't expect less from someone who just got back from the North pole after one week of fun with you-know-who (winks).

Getting down to business, we're at that time of the year again - the beginning of the end which heralds a whole new beginning (I see that look of approval on your face :) ). Yup, yup, it's Christmas (blows trumpet).

I'm pretty sure you all have different activities lined up to enjoy Christmas - visiting grandparents in the village, going on a shopping spree in Paris or just sleeping Christmas away on your bamboo bed. If you're like me (which is very unlikely), you're finding it difficult choosing between space diving or sun surfing.

However you decide to spend this Christmas is totally up to you. All that matters, all that this epistle is trying to preach is STAY HAPPY. All through this season, all I want is for you to be happy (how hard can that be?).

Yes,
Smile till your cheeks burst.
Laugh till you lose your breath.
Dance till your limbs come off.
Be happy!

So we all have had our fair share of dark clouds this year, disappointments, loss, failure (like I failed at telekinesis, couldn't move a mere thread with my mind). There might still be one or two not so sunny days before the year runs out for some (I'm no angel of doom. Just being factual). Nonetheless, as long as that heart is still pumping blood, think back to those days you did not want to end, when you laughed at the man that pronouced shoulder as solder, at your friend that fell butt-first into a bucket of water, at the clumsy one who spilled Coca-Cola on a very ruthless lecturer. Remember you've also had a good dose of laughter-filled days and let those memories blot out those of the gloomy ones.

So smile and be happy, you'll live longer, healthier and even look younger. Smile for me, flash those crooked teeth at me, aha, there goes, your teeth look even worse than I envisaged (tongue out).

From Mizkeneke and I, we say, "Compliments of the Season and BE HAPPY!"

P.S. Watch out for 12 days of Christmas tomorrow. It is another cool story from me (remember chicken run? Lol). I bet you'll enjoy it but if you refuse to enjoy it, you'll have to pay me for my hardwork (I mean it).

And yeah, if you're still wondering who I was with at the North pole. Wondering who you-know-who actually is, he is that rotund man always clad in white and red. Sure you know who now. Below is a picture we took together. Cute, isn't it?

Nature or Nurture 1

I am one of those people who don’t always see the grey area. I almost always deal in absolutes. Is it black or is it white? Is it yes or is it no? I don’t always understand maybes. In the argument nature vs nurture, I was staunchly in the nurture camp. This is not to say I have defected to the nature camp. It just means that I see the grey. In fact, I am in that murky miry place. 

You know all those questions, 'Which comes first?' 'The phoenix or the ashes?', 'The egg or the chicken?' and how there’s no correct answer. There’s no correct answer to this either. It’s not a matter of percentages. If it were, it wouldn’t be a bone of contention. It’s not even that the person ultimately chooses. It’s not about the strength of nature or nurture. NO! NO! NO! it’s none of those things and no, it’s not a combination of any.

How do you explain a 7yr old girl who didn’t grow up with her mother (not even the same village) exhibiting the very traits for which her mother was avoided? How do you explain how children of rapists and child molesters don’t always end up like their parents? How do you explain some adoptees growing up to be like parents they have never met and others still like their foster parents? How do you explain certain mannerisms that children ‘inherit’ from parents they have never met?

It is worrisome that I may never know what determines a person’s behaviour. How do I know this beautiful boy I want to adopt won’t grow up to pummel his kids or be a wife beater like his sperm donor father? How do I know this baby girl I’m taking in wouldn’t be a junkie like her mom? How do I know he wouldn’t be a doctor like me? And she wouldn’t shake her legs because she is scared or nervous? Or love novels? Or never has a best anything because she loves too many things?

I guess I can only do what I have learnt to do when I realise that there is indeed a limit to how much I can know. I will accept that I may never be a part of the cognoscenti on this one and just leave it to GOD. There’s a reason he is omniscient.

At War

The bell rang, marking the end of recess. We casually strolled back to our cellrooms. Five years within the walls of the prisonyard and no more were we frightened by the jailers. Their clamouring did nothing to agitate us.

Taking our time, we settled down, unkeenly awaiting the arrival of the Gingerfrench Man. Although he was the fairest of them all, the mirror on the wall could attest to that, he was reputed to be the most dreaded jailer. We watched him make a beeline for our cellroom.

"Bonjour," he said in his foreign accent. Turning his table-top behind to us, he scribbled the words 'LA VIE EST UN COMBAT' on the wall.
"Meaning? Anybody?", he asked pointing to the words he had written.
"I," said a voice
"Yes?"
"Vying is a combat," replied the voice.
"Wiser is he who remains silent and is thought a fool than he who opens his mouth and removes all doubt," retorted the Gingerfrench Man disgustedly. Majority let out a stifled laugh. We all knew better than to answer the jailer's questions. No reply was ever good enough for him.

"La vie est un combat."

"La vie est un combat," he repeated slowly, almost whispering, as if talking to himself.

Pacing about the room, he started.

"We are at war."

"War?" "With who?" We were puzzled.

As if sensing this, he continued, "Yes, We are at war. We are living a war. At war with ourselves and with one another."

"This war didn't start yesterday. Non, non, it is as old as time itself. It has always been and will be till the end of time."

"A war like no other. It is in stages, levels. Like those intelligence quotient reducing games you all love to play. Oui, you conquer one stage and you're automatically fighting to stay alive in another."

Jabbing his index finger at no one in particular, he said,
"You were conceived in this war. As soon as you were, the fight began. You fought with all you had to survive, to pull through, into this world of ours. Indeed, you fought hard enough and conquered or you'd be six feet under and pushing up daisies."

He paused and stared into nothing. Like a man in a trance, he continued speaking,
"Each man fights for his own cause. Some same, some différent. Winning is paramount. It is all that matters, irrespective of the means."

"Some fight for the sake of love, some fight for money, some power, a good number for fame, some fight just to survive."

"Some succeed in their quest. The not so smart fail in theirs. The unlucky ones fall by the way side."

"Very few want the war to end. Only the weak end theirs. Majority push just hard enough to stay on their feet. For the few wise ones, winners never quit and quitters never win is the motto."

Our eyes followed him as he walked towards the door. He said with finality in his voice,
"It is a war of passion fueled by the desire to stay alive, to keep breathing, to always awaken to a new day."

"Life is the war."

"The war is life."

"La vie est un combat."

"Life is a battlefield."

"Au revoir!"

And he was out.

We saw a different side of the Gingerfrench Man that day. We saw the weird but intellectual part of him. "Who knows what act he'll bring on next," we thought to ourselves. We silently prayed his path would never again cross ours. If our prayers were answered, time will tell.

We see the questions in your eyes.

Who are we?
We are many but one. We are a special class of convicts.

Where are we?
A special type of prison.

What do we want?
Well, thats for us to know and for you to find out.

Will this be the first and last you'll hear from us?
Only time will tell.

Clumsy Steve 1

...she heard the murderer slowly approach her. Pistol shaking in hand, she tried to keep it steady. She was determined to blow a hole through the head responsible for the deaths of virtually everyone she cared about. "Hello Chérie," she heard the murderer say. Only one person called her chérie...

*Ding dong*
I stormed to my door prepared to lambaste whoever had interrupted my reading. It was the mail man. I faked a smile. Received and signed for the package. I was about tossing it across the room when a book slipped out. I wasn't even going to pick it up, then I saw the author's name - @djay_prinze. @djay_prinze is...that's a story for later. With joy in my heart like my granny would say, I picked up the book and started reading. I totally forgot about the previous one.

CLUMSY STEVE by @djay_prinze

"Damn! Why does this damned facial ointment have to sting so bad?," He muttered to himself as he applied a generous portion to an especially troublesome spot. Why did he have to be so scrawny? Why did he have to look like a bean pole? What's the deal with all these malignant pimples? Sure girls fancy tall guys, but only if they got some meat on 'em as well! Why does he have to use glasses thicker than Pamela Anderson's thighs? All these murky thoughts passed through his mind as he looked in the mirror. He heaved a deep sigh and turned away from the mirror only to trip over his carelessly strewn school bag. Even a seasoned ballet dancer wouldn't have survived the trip and as such, he ended up face first on the floor.
He muttered an expletive his father would have developed a stroke on hearing. He wasn't surprised about the fall though. Surprised? Hell he had a reputation for being clumsy and was fondly (as he likes to convince himself) called 'Clumsy Steve'.

He heard his mum's petulant screams before the sound of the school bus and knew it was time to face another soul killing, energy sapping day at a school he constantly had daydreams about blowing up. Throwing the school bag a disgusted look, he picked it up, trudged downstairs, accepted the customary peck on the cheek from the only woman in his life and picked up his lunch pack ( yes he was 17 and still takes lunch packs to school) and went outside to meet the cursed vehicle that usually commenced his suffering.

Climbing aboard, he heard snickers and mutterings and then caught himself in the side mirror of the bus looking like an escaped refugee from one of those troubled Asian countries. Damn! Had he forgotten to comb his hair again? He vaguely remebered holding a comb and that was the last of it. He tried to save a little face by combing his fingers through his wildly curling hair, another curse of his already screwed life. He took his customary seat by the window and shut out the rest of the world. He wondered how his childhood must have been like and how he had survived a day of it. He certainly had no explanation as to how he ended up looking like a drunk, crack head version of Zac Efron now. Being the only child didn't help matters either, with busy parents to boot, he was pretty much a loner in every twisted, messed up sense of the word. The only light in his otherwise dark (nah seems too timid), black world was Melissa.

Melissa, the raven haired beauty that had captured his still developing, adolescent heart 4yrs ago and had stayed right there all those years. She made life worth living and school less gruesome. Oh don't get him wrong, she certainly had no idea he existed but hey, a bloke was allowed his right to dream eh? The bus grunted and mumbled to a stop in front of the sprawling building he called school and as he made to get up from his seat, he saw HER! There she was, his very own Vanessa Hudgens. He kept staring until POW! He planted his head firmly into the wooden seat beside his. Again he could only mutter an expletive, not fully gratified, he tossed in two more for good measure.  

It was tough being in the same class as your crush and not offering a word of greeting. The problem with the damned movies he kept watching and by God couldn't stay away from was that the geeks kept getting the maidens but he was sure as hell as he was sure that Ray J didn't 'hit it first' that he certainly wasn't getting the girl this time. Sighing wistfully, he took his seat in class and prepared his mind to go through the day with the mental strength of a bull determined to take down the red garment held up by the Matador. And like a flash,school was over, he did okay by his standards and gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Now, he just had to get through the day at that damned coffee house he worked in. He had to look for a job when his dad had called him, sat him down and spoken to him about 'responsibilities and being your own man', hell he had been 14 at the time! He was still to forgive the old man. His social life failed to pick up despite working in a very public place and he was, if possible, even more anonymous there. He had been working there closing in on two years and still, his boss called him 'Coffee boy' much to his chagrin.

He had been on his shift close to 2hrs when SHE walked in. He saw her and suddenly blanked out! "What in Will Ferrell's hairy ass is she doing here?" screamed his mind. It was hard enough being a 'coffee boy' but having to serve your crush had to be the most hideous punishment ever. Or so he thought until something incredibly amazing happened...

"...and do the harlem shake," Baauer's Harlem shake came blasting through my phone. "You'll be doing the harlem shake in a big bowl of soaked garri," I said to my phone. Reluctantly, I answered the call. Two minutes later, I was headed for the hospital.

CHICKEN RUN: A Very Cool Story

Once upon a time, a time dragons hovered freely in the sky and dinosaurs trodded the earth, there existed a kingdom called Kumazar. Kumazar was a blessed kingdom. Blessed, not for its human nor mineral resources but because it was choosen by mother Earth to be the keeper of Edinor.
Edinor was a very great bird not in its form but in wisdom. Believed to be the key to all knowledge, Edinor was in fact wiser than the wisest mortal beings.

No doubts, mother earth had indeed blessed the Kingdom of Kumazar and the people acted accordingly. Edinor was idolized. A sacred temple was built for the great bird. The temple was also well guarded by a special breed of vicious animals called the Apes. Even the path to the temple was a treacherous one with obstacles at every turn. Only the finest Kumazar warriors specially trained to overcome the obstacles and get past the Apes could get to the temple to consult with Edinor.

News of the great bird soon got around and a rival Kingdom secretly plotted to abduct the Idol. Without warning, the rival Kingdom struck. Kumazar was attacked in the dead of the night and nothing was spared. Everything went up in flames.
Now, no one could stop the rival kingdom from capturing the great Idol...or so they thought. Even their best warriors couldn't get into the temple, for they were either eaten raw by the Apes or permanently immobilized by the obstacles.

The news of Edinor and the almost impossible to reach sacred temple spread all over the Kingdoms of that time. Thousands tried to get into the temple and ten thousands failed. Not one was able to reach Edinor's sacred temple. How the Kumazar warriors ever managed to get into the temple remained a mystery to all.

Everything about the kingdom, the great bird, the temple, the warriors got lost and buried in time. Until recently, when a chest containing a scroll with pictures narrating all that happened years ago was discovered in a cave. Experts have successfully decoded the message which speaks of the great Idol, Edinor, great enough to turn the world around for good.

Seven brave soldiers of our time set out to locate the temple and recover the idolized bird. One of the warriors got in and captured the idolized bird. But, the whereabouts of the warrior as well as that of the bird is unknown. Rumour has it that the Apes didn't let the warrior get away with the idol. It is said that this formed the basis of a very popular game...are you thinking what i'm thinking?

Well, sometimes lastweek, while I was busy exploring the universe with my camera phone (remember my new hobby, phoneography?), I captured this strange looking bird. The bird's form matched that of Edinor as described by legend. Is this the same bird, the great Idol many lost their lives to capture? I do not know. The bird took off when it saw me and I had to run after it to get this shot (do I hear a 'Thank you for your efforts'?). The bird was incredibly fast and I couldn't capture it for interrogation. So, I guess I'll never know if that bird really was Edinor or just a doppelganger. I'll never know if the legend is infact true or false. I'll never know...

*Curtain Falls*

I'm ultra sure you've never heard a story as 'cool' as this *dodges raw eggs*. By the way, don't you think the doppelganger looks faa-bu-lous? All thanks to photo filters. The art of phoneography is no child's play *dodges banana peels*.

Lol.Thats it! I'm out.

My Lemon Story

                              
I love lemons. Like really really love them. I'm not going to go all moringa-ey and claim that lemons cure all(even if they do, I wouldn't know that). All I know is that I love lemons. They are awesome.

I liked tea back in the day when all I had to do was drink it. Not buy it and boil water and steep it and pour in a cup and wash the cup(I hate growing up). Seeing as I sort of acquired lactose intolerance, no milk in my tea and so, lemons to the rescue. I know it seems weird I mean, as far back as I can remember(4years), I've been drinking my tea with lemons and as I was an unconventional child, I'd request that lemon slices be cut in my cup of tea and I'd eat them with relish.lol(bear in mind i used 2 chew paracetamol). Anyway, I was a very healthy child. I can like to attribute that to lemons because I didn't like a lot of things back then. No eggs, no milk, no fish, no onions actually, I didn't even like most foods.

My mother would even squeeze lemon juice on pawpaw before I'd eat it.

Now that I'm old, and I've started having outbreaks, I use lemon juice as a face cleanser. It works like a charm. I see change before the 3rd day. No new pimples, no scars. Some website I can't remember says that this is due to the astringent properties of lemons. Anyway, my only problem with this wunderbar cleanser is that I have no way to store the lemon juice before it spoils. Any suggestions would be welcome.

When I decided to go natural, I discovered in the course of my research that many of the natural hair bloggers use shea butter for their hair. I decided to use it too plus its cheap and easily accessible. Now, my family memebers hate the smell of shea butter, me, I dont mind it. So, I compromised by 'soaking' lemon peels in olive oil for about 5days and my resulting oil smelled like lemons. I mixed my lemon infused olive oil with shea butter and my butter smells divine. YAY!!!

For those of you who would like to hear about the goodness of lemons, you could always google it. Theres far more information on google.

P.S: I use lemons when I feel nauseous. They help. A great deal

Breakup Tunes

I bet'cha a million naira that right now, somewhere in the world, a relationship is breaking up, about to break up or just broke up. Breakups really are disheartening. The partners spend valuable time together, probably confessing undying love to each other, saying things like 'you are the air I breathe', 'the water that quenches my thirst' and blah blah. The spark goes with the wind and zap!, its R.I.P. to the relationship; making me wonder how they actually plan to survive without air and water.

Unfortunately, the deed is done. Its over. Deal with it. People handle breakups differently and on this basis, I have drawn up 5 different classes of people and ultimately 1 or 2 songs appropriate for those belonging to each class.

1. ADELE TYPE
The females rock this category so perfectly. If you're a guy and this category describes you best, please check yourself, something is defintely wrong. Picture this - Jack and Jill dated for about two years. Jill was Jack's cook, cleaner, errand girl, everything but a girlfriend. Jill became a bore to Jack (that was inevitable) and she got kicked out the back door. Get the picture? These category of people spend 20hours a day crying and the remaining four blowing their noses. Shame, shame isn't it?

Well, since you won't stop crying, I knw d song just for you. No, its not a song by Adele (you've had enough of that already), it is SEASONS IN THE SUN by WESTLIFE. I request you pay particular attention to the lyrics. Now you can weep for a more honourable cause. Shed your grief in capsules of tears. Losing your Jack is not the end of the world.

2. PLAYBOY
Fine boy no pimples with the right swag and a pocket full of paper. You might have 99 problems but girls aint one. You have about 5 regular girlfriends, 2 dozen sidechicks and countless groupies that always flock around you. One of the girls you've been dating wakes up, for the first time in a long time, on the right side of her bed and decides its high time you stopped playing around with her. She pays you a visit (hopefully it's her last to you). She rants and whines like a wounded cow, says she's done and leaves. This is a regular show to you. Her exit opens doors for new chicks to flock in. Time to celebrate!

The next friday night, hit the best club in town and have the dj play you the latest NIGERIAN club hits. Dazall! Dance like it's gon be your last. You won't even remember the girl ever existed by morning. The same applies to the very very few girls in this category.

3. MISS INDEPENDENT
Thumbs up sisters. Y'all make the woman race very proud. For one reason or the other, you guys broke up. So what? It is good riddance. Life goes on and a better guy is on his way.

If you're the type that likes to drop it low, celebrate the break up with CIARA ft NICKI MINAJ - I'M OUT. Shake off your ex girl, he'll regret letting you go.

If you really don't dig dancing but prefer karaoke or singing along BEST THING I NEVER HAD by BEYONCE is perfecto.

4. THE SWITCH
I wonder if you have a relationship or a comedy show. They are the makers and the breakers of relationships. The relationship keeps going on and off like its a switch. Its always on the rocks. Today you guys are all lovey dovey and tomorrow its world war 3. You finally get sick and tired of your see-saw relationship, you declare it over and intend to make it remain that way.

WE ARE NEVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER by TAYLOR SWIFT should be your anthem.

5. FRAGILE HEART
These are the ones I pity most. Breakup is their second nature. They are always getting in and out of relationships. They are fed up but still want their dream relationship with their fantasy guy. Though physically weak, they have a strong mind. They are not discouraged by failed relationships. Sometimes their strength fails and it feels like the walls are closing in.
You need a soothing song, one that reaches deep into you. Any of these three songs should help.

i.Hallelujah by TI ft Mary J.

ii.Stronger by Mandisa

iii.Rise Above It by Switchfoot

Hopefully they'll help you find the inner strength to see you through. I really hope you find the right relationship for you. Dont give up. Keep Hope Alive.

I know you all like awoof so here's a little extra, fit for all categories except the playboy. It is STRONGER by KELLY CLARKSON.

Ntutu

I'm in love and for y'all that know me, no,its not another celebrity or book character or movie character. IT'S MY HAIR. Mega surprising, I know oh. That's how I got converted by a friend (G.J) and proceeded to do my research and I have cut my hair. I'm now on a healthy natural hair journey.Yay me!! I'm now in a beautiful relationship with my hair and that's awesome. You might not understand why it's such a big deal for me but it is a very big deal oh. I hated my hair and  it even made me cry on numerous occasions.
I have been thinking of the name to give my hair and I came up with ntutu which means hair in my language (thanks dad). Anyway,seeing as my hair is a living dead thing to me (forget MR NIGER), it cannot complain if it doesn't like the name and I get to choose a name.lol. My happiness at getting to name something stems from the fact that I never got to name anything while growing up. i believe that tends to happen when you are the runt of the litter with very vocal and forceful siblings.*sniffs.Oh well, I digress. If I decide I dont like the name ntutu,I'd change it. It's not like the hair would know any different sef. Who knows I just might change the name everytime i feel the urge,lol.

Say Cheese

*Click click* we all are too familiar with this phrase photographers (or whoever we burden with the task of taking our pictures)use to make us expose our crooked teeth and look cute for the camera.

Im not a pro photographer o, I dont even own a camera! Recently, I got a smart phone *coy smile*. I took pictures of me and soon got tired of taking shots of my face everytime -___-. That gave birth to d picture editor in me. I spent my time editing my pictures till I had nothing else to edit. Well, not until 5days ago when I discovered phoneography; that awakened the 'photographer' in me . Phoneography z d art of photography using a camera phone. With the right photo-editing apps, you get to make a statement with ordinary-looking pictures.

Since my discovery, I have been taking and editing pictures. Nature has been freely modeling for me. Oh nature! Thou art an epitome of beauty - the sun and her ever bright smile that lights up my world (no pun intended), the spurt of grey clouds on the clear blue sky and the 'greens'? My love for them melts my heart, green organic blood now runs in my veins and they make our world a colourful one.

Its amazing what filters can do to a picture.. You can have one picture looking a thousand and one different ways thanks to them. There are other editing tools out there and with time, I plan to explore them all. I'm positive a good number of you guys are aiidy pros at filtering your photos especially for sharing on instagram and other social networks. Please feel free to share your favourite pictures with us via e-mail and we'll gladly post them on our blog. I'll also be posting pictures to share with y'all from time to time so keep up with the blog. Do I hear a 'Sir Yes Sir'?

Let me show you a bit of what I've been up to.

This crayfish wasn't smiling when I took this picture. I was about sending it to the great beyond.

Sunset somewhere in Ibadan by our very own Mizkenke

Coooooooooooooooool right? I know ;)

Still in Ibadan courtesy Mizkenke

Simply lovely! See why I'm so obsessed with the greens and their products?

*Stretches* hope you liked the pictures. Gotta go now, dont miss me too much. Hasta la vista, baby.

Hola

Hey people, welcome! You're reading the very first post on this totally fabulous fun weblog, yaaaay!!! This is so so exciting. Trust me, it's going to blow your minds away. Just be a tad patient (winks).

Wondering what this blog is all about? Well, you know how people say an idle mind is the devil's workshop? I know two minds that have been idle for a while and...yes, you guessed right, those minds are responsible for conceiving this online beauty. Its that girl next door sharing something about everything that goes on with and around her. From food to family to friends to school to the good, the bad and maybe the ugly (hopefully not the last two, lol). It happens, we share it. We feel it, we tell you about it. We discover it, we'll let you know about it. It bothers us, we'll discuss it. If you ever get bored you know where to run to now. Its going to be worth every bit of your time. By the way, feel free to share anything you want to with us - leave a comment or send a mail to femmefuntale@gmail.com. Enjoy!!!