"Why do you talk like that?!"

I'm wondering if anyone else has noticed that people are really sensitive about accents in Naija? Recently, I've heard a lot of bitching about Nigerians who have picked up different accents as a result of living abroad for some years. They freaking want to bite your head off for pronouncing a word in a different way than they would.

It is generally believed that if a person is over the age of 15 when they move abroad, they have no business talking with a foreign accent. I agree with this to an extent. For seven years, my accent was British in the presence of British people and Nigerian or something ''neutral' sounding to my fellow Nigerians. This happened because when I started at my boarding school (aged 17), I was constantly being asked to repeat myself to the point where I just preferred not to continue with the conversation. It was really frustrating because my accent was never that strong in the first place (It was that QC girl shakara kind of accent, you know the one. Lol!). Anyway, I eventually gave in and decided to try talking differently and that is how I ended up with the accent. By the time I was in Uni, non-Nigerians assumed I was British until I told them otherwise.

Since moving back to Lagos, I made a conscious effort to lose the accent.....it has been tucked away in the closet. But like a lot of other folks who studied abroad, my Nigerian accent is very 'Affected' but it is still a Nigerian accent! I've just been used to talking and pronouncing things in a certain way. People get really mad like you're doing it on purpose because you think you're better than them. NOT TRUE! It's just a habit. I know there are some people who talk that way on purpose (you'll find out that they probably spent only 2 months away, lol!). Don't even get me started on those radio DJs...cool FM and co! It can be so exhausting listening to their fake sounding accents!

I think it's just a psychological thing. Most young people just want to fit in with the people around them not because they think another accent is cooler or better than theirs. Most people are not even aware that they are doing it. I know a Naija guy who studied in Ghana and now has a Ghanaian accent. You CANNOT convince me that anybody would be trying to talk with a Ghanaian accent on purpose (No offense to my Ghanaian brothers and sisters :-).

So now that I have explained it, I hope y'all are cool

Trouble's Been Doggin' My Soul...

In an earlier post on this blog, I described my refusal to leave the United States as me being trapped in an abusive relationship. I’d like to further the metaphor by contending that America itself is a vicious, psychotic, abusive boyfriend; one of those who ain’t want you around, but would be damned if he was letting your butt leave.

Last month, after months of tossing and turning, I bought a one-ticket back to my homeland. As most flights to Lagos do, mine had a stopover. Just for five hours. In Amsterdam. Naturally, I decided to go to the Dutch Embassy to go get the transit visa I assumed I needed for this brief foray into Schengen territory. First of all, let me say that the stupid embassy is set on a random hill (that this dummy had to climb in the noon-day DC summer heat), is full of nasty, unfriendly people and they all just make up rules as they go. So aaaanyway, after patiently waiting my turn, I get called up to the window and Madam asks me for my information which I gladly hand over; diligently filled-out forms, passport, money order. She glances at my passport, sneering at the sheer greenness of it, and then goes “Where is your current US visa?”

“Umm, Madam. I don’t exactly have one, hence the one-way ticket back to my mama house.”

“You don’t have one?”

“Nope, not unless – y’know – I got one while I was sleep-walking the other night and just clean forgot about it”

“Mmmm. Interesting. We cannot issue you a transit visa unless we can determine your legal status in the United States”

“What the f*@k?

“Mmmhmm, yes. That’s how we roll here at the Dutch embassy.”

“You understand that I’m going HOME, right? That I am leaving the country because my work authorization has run out (also known as What You’re Supposed To Do)? That I have no immediate intentions to a) return to America b) abscond in Holland? That you’re asking me to remain in the country despite my expired work permit because apparently, I cannot leave?”

“Yes ma’am, we understand all that. We just don’t really care.”

“Okay, so what would you have me do? My flight (fully booked and paid for) leaves in a week.”

“You’d best stop talking to me and start talking to Priceline, because your butt is not leaving through the Netherlands. Thank you and can I get the next customer please?”

There’s a little bit of embellishment in the dialogue, but I assure you, not as much as you’d think. The Nigerian in me wants to fight; wants to yell and scream; even wants to bust out the old faithful “This woman! Do you know who I am??!” The beefy Dutch security guard had me thinking otherwise. So there’s me crying in the street, hot, angry, confused.

It was clearly this anger, heat and confusion that made me think it would be a good idea to walk the few blocks to the Nigerian Embassy to see if my people would be able to help me out in this predicament. I wasn’t sure what I wanted them to do exactly, but isn’t that what happens in movies? You get stuck in some foreign land and bombs are going off everywhere, so you run to your embassy and you’re as good as home? Was I not in a very strange land? Were there not metaphorical bombs exploding all around me? I tried my luck.

They might have been able to help me. Maybe. I’ll never know for sure though because at 1pm on this Tuesday afternoon, the entire Consulate section was closed for Muslim prayers. No comment. After waiting in the air-conditioning for a half-hour, my cooled brain realized that I was on a fool’s errand and it was time to bust out. Hours of scouring the internet for information finally led me to a kindly gentleman on a message board who recommended I call my airline (DUH!). KLM-lady tells me that Embassy-lady is trippin’ and I would not even be requiring a transit visa at all as I am not leaving the transit area and am catching the next flight out. Several repeat calls to different KLM reps confirmed this.

But I’m pretty much holding my breath, crossing my fingers and systematically destroying my manicure until my butt is planted firmly in the seat of that 747 this Sunday.

Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble...

I'm Lovin it!

I could write down 100 things I HATE about living in Lagos...but I won't. Instead, I'm focusing on things i love about it.

I love the fact that Nigerians do not hide their religion. I don't know what it's like elsewhere but British people generally don't like talking about God and they really don't like any form of religious expression. This seems to be especially the case among youths. Look, I'm not one of those people that want to shove christianity down people's throats but I love the fact that in Naija I can say "God bless you" and not get funny looks like I've just killed your mother. I like having people to discuss anything spiritual with...whether its about doubts i may be having, a need for encouragement or if I'm feeling blessed and i just want to tell someone about it. I even have these conversations with my Muslim friends!

I'm so thrilled that I can get my hair done for the equivalent of 10 pounds or less in Lagos. When i was in England, I would spend close to 45 pounds to get a weave which meant that I could only change my hair once in a blue moon....every 3 months to be exact. For someone as restless as me, that was very annoying. I'm obsessed with my hair, I really do believe that a woman's hair is her crowning glory. You could be Miss Universe but if you have F-ed up hair, just forget it! That is all anybody will notice. The versatility of African/African American hair is both a blessing and a curse for me. You can do WHATEVER you want! Relaxed, braids, weave (straight, curly, kinky), natural...the list goes on. Having choices is great but that just makes me want to try it all (At the same time if i could, lol). I'm the type of person that asks my stylist "So for next time, do you think Rihanna's new haircut would look good on me?" to which she would reply "Honey! I'm not even finished yet and you're already planning your next do". Nowadays I change my hair as often as I like...braids, curly hair, straight, coloured, whatever! I'm rocking a short crop right now but you know I'm already planning my next trip to the salon :-)

I reeeally love having a group of friends again. I've met lots of nice people since I've been back and also reconnected with some old friends. It's nice having people to hang out and confide in.

I'm NOT loving the fact that I have a splitting headache right now from Malaria which is the reason I'm cutting this short!