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!!!