It’s not the heat, it’s the humility

Hola peeps.

Man, I am soooo bored. Tuesday’s a public holiday here and I’da made it a long weekend by taking Monday off and visiting Kampala or Kigali. Had to take a cab to kickboxing class today ‘cos car’s in the garage after someone ran into it earlier in the week. Initially decided to avoid making it a police case as the lady begged we should resolve it ourselves. My colleague took her to the garage and a price was agreed. Once we insisted she also pay for cabs to take us around while car’s getting fixed, she stopped picking up our calls. Good thang’s Juba’s small ‘cos bumped into her at the bank after 2 days and at first she tried to deny she was responsible, claiming a case of mistaken identity, but she eventually agreed after we took her to the police. Man, hard trusting peeps, huh?

Forgot to mention last time I was in Kampala I attended David’s son’s friend’s 7^th birthday party – in between poops so bad I felt CSI Uganda woulda been required to reconstruct my death scene from poop splatter - and struck up a conversation with a single mom while watching Nigeria defeat Cameroon in footie. Her ex-partner’s Cameroonian and after the match I thought it wouldn’t be so bad to have a new friend in Kampala ‘cos she was interesting to talk to; plus, she was one of those chicks that’s always smiling. You know the ones. However, this Smiley was more out there: if her smile was an emoji it’d be ALL smiley emojis. Decided not to request her number ‘cos….not sure why now that I think of it, but that’s not the point. The point is exactly 3 weeks to the date of our meeting she just came up in my head. Carrying on theme from last blog entry, if someone I felt somewhat intrigued by only popped into my head after 3 weeks then maybe my current non-relationship stance is good for all concerned.

So what else is new? I skipped out on running this morning ‘cos I’m psyching myself for 30km run planned for Tuesday morning. Yup, that’s my exciting Juba life. Going running before church tomorrow morning and meeting up a mate for lunch after kickboxing class. Before lunch though I’d have weekly FaceTime call with daughter. She was on holiday in Cyprus when we spoke last week and good thing her mom’s British, else she wouldn’t be able to hop off to a Mediterranean island as easily. Man, being a Nigerian passport holder is akin to visa kryptonite nowadays. Already told you off my cancelled Zanzibar trip last year ‘cos of new visa requirements for Nigerian passport holders, well, add Vietnam to that list.

Never been to Asia before so when a mate’s company posted him from Aberdeen to Ho Chi Minh City I thought that presented a perfect opportunity. Already pictured myself posing for selfies, a la time in Russia, ‘cos dude said he stands out as a black guy. Got travel agent to secure flights from Heathrow after rearranging GP and dentist appointments to suit travel. My abs-sense (Geddit? Spiderman has his spidey sense and I have my….just forget about it) started tingling when online visa application sites didn’t have Nigeria on their drop-down list of countries. Coincidentally, a mate in Nigeria was planning to do a tour of three Asian countries with his girlfriend and Vietnam was one of them. Dude told me embassy staff in Abuja informed him they no longer offer tourist visas to Nigerians. U what?! I tried a workaround with mate in Vietnam and dude was told the same thang. Dayummm. Too late to apply for a Schengen visa from Kampala so guess I am gonna spend all 2 weeks of my UK trip within the UK.

Looking to travel outta London this time as Chief plans to be in the UK same time I am there. Dude only left for Nigeria yesterday and is returning on the 8^th for more medical appointments. Man, dude’s really “enjoyed” his London crib this year. Reminds me of time I made sure to use all 5 loos in Lagos crib ‘cos felt I hadn’t enjoyed the rent I was paying, as house was mostly empty ‘cos I worked in Port Harcourt. Chief’s projected to spend 3/4s of this year in the UK. Woah. He probably needed the break from the stress in Nigeria. But then he passes on his stress to his kids in the UK. I am sure Nike musta been relieved once Chief and momsy got on the plane last night.

Forget to tell y’all what occurred on eve of departure from the UK last April. Got in past midnight ‘cos went to catch a movie in the West End. Found numerous missed calls when I turned on phone from mom and Chief wondering where I was as “you know London’s not safe at night”. I really wish I was joking. I am a 42-year old expat in putative “unsafe” South Sudan and my folks are worried about guys on mopeds in London?! Out of sight out of mind, I suppose. Now you see why I gotta find somewhere to go ‘cos 2 straight weeks with Chief in the same crib might become a li’l, erm, constraining. If it ain’t discussions about status of my investments, then it would center on my love life. Oh oh oh, cannot believe I failed to tell you guys this…..

2 months ago I get a photo on WhatsApp from my sis Nike and behold, it’s a pic of her with an ex. Not the one mentioned in last blog entry, but the one before that one. She’s the first gf I had when I returned to Nigeria in 2005 and second girl I ever fell in love with. How/why/where did Nike see her? Turns out of all the Sunday services in all the churches in London she chose to visit Nike’s church that day, even though she’s normally based in Nigeria. Harmless coincidence, huh? Well, not according to my folks. Mom was visiting Kemi in the US at the time and Kemi informed me mom took it as a sign from God and asked her to join in prayer that ex and I would end up together. Naturally, Kemi ignored her – Nike woulda acquiesced – and we both laughed at it. Some background is necessary here to put things in perspective, but before that here are some snippets from mom’s time with Kemi.

1. Mom (picking up the phone): “Hello, my holy sister in the Lord...”

2. Aunt to mom: “Mama Nike, you are looking very good.”
Mom: “Thanks so much my sister. It’s ‘cos I drink the blood of Jesus daily”.   

So here’s the background: Chief really liked this ex ‘cos he knew her father. He also knew the father of ex I discussed in last blog entry, but…okay maybe he liked any girl that he thought would encourage me to get married. Mom was meh ‘cos she’s generally that way. An uncle once told me that the first time he introduced his fiancée to her, mom pointed her to the bathroom and said, “Nice to meet you, I have some clothes soaking in that bucket. Go wash them.” You know how in Hollywood action movies the instructor would refuse to take on the student until he/she had shown their commitment by undertaking a series of my humiliating tasks? My mother was the inspiration behind those scripts. First time this ex met mom her response was, “why doesn’t your mom smile?” I discovered another reason mom didn’t take to her was ‘cos she was a Muslim. Wasn’t a big deal to me, but it was to mom. Perhaps she could tell the relationship was serious as she was the first girl I ever brought home, and she didn’t want me to marry a Muslim. I didn’t quite give a hoot ‘cos as y’all know my mom and I have never been that close. I reckon I stopped being the apple of her eye somewhere between the ages of 13 and 16, the same period when she went from “sweet mother” in my eyes to a virago.

A few weeks later I open my Bible, and I have to stress again that it was MY Bible, and saw mom – ‘cos no one else is that petty and headstrong – had highlighted 2 Corinthians 6:14 which states, What fellowship does light have with darkness? Now you can begin to understand why my relationship with mom has always been strained. Who in their sane mind would do this?! White supremacists have been known to use that Bible passage as support for racism and my mom used same to passive-aggressively warn her only son off his girlfriend. You can’t make this stuff up.

A few relationships later, Tunde gets married, then divorced, and mom starts to get antsy and aggressive-aggressively tells Tunde he should get married again, and even goes so far as to suggest he gets back with his ex-wife. Tunde of course makes a joke out of it and in not-so-subtle terms tells her it’d be better for their ethereal relationship if she no longer broaches the subject. As is her norm, she finds a way around doing what I had advised her against by getting Chief/relatives/neighbours/airline staff to do it in her stead, all to no avail. Now what do you think was going through her mind that morning when Nike calls to tell her Tunde’s Muslim ex is now a committed Christian and…wait for it….is also single? God sure does have a great sense of humour. Mom slyly mentioned it a few days after Nike informed her. “Did Nike tell you she saw your ex? I hear she’s now on fire for the Lord.” I ignore her. Few weeks later, Chief returned to the UK and it was his turn to try. “When was the last time you spoke to your ex? I hear she still ain’t married. I hear she won’t mind considering marriage, but you’re the one that’s holding out…” He stopped prodding when he got no response from me, but I am sure he’s crafting a new plan for 2 weeks we are gonna spend together.

Might distract him from my love life if I take him along to see Hamilton. Loved it when I saw it earlier this year and wanna see it again. Not sure it’s Chief’s thang though. Wait, I vaguely remember him taking us to see CATS as kids, so maybe it’s his thang after all. Might also take nephew Zane as he’s just completed his GCSEs and the play could be a good opportunity for us to bond. Man, I recall the day Zane was born and times I babysat him. Also fondly recall the first time I took him out for the day as a 4-year old. Now he’s 16 years old on the verge of attending university. Speaking of, my other nephew Jordan graduated from college on Friday. Met Jordan as a 3-year old during my first trip to the US and he’s now a man. God’s amazing, isn’t He?

In a few years it's gonna be my daughter graduating from uni and I'll be wondering how time went by so fast. Our FaceTime sessions have increased in length after much prayer and fasting on my part. Developed a thang where I give her a word for the week and ask her to recall word and its meaning during subsequent calls. Dunno if it's fun for her but it is for me, as it has helped stretch out our weekly calls. Cannot wait to see her in 3 weeks and I have already decided to buy her a dictionary and highlight all the words for the week we've come up with in the past 3 months. Hold up, it would be her dictionary, right? Does that mean in a few years my daughter could blog about my invasiveness for choosing to emphasize words in a gift I got her? Damn, I have become my mother. No, no, I have not. I am being invidious when I tell y'all this is totally different, ain't I? But my intentions are good and....bet my mom thought same when she pulled out her yellow highlighter while flipping through the New Testament. Wait, I need to consider this some more.

Tot ziens and God bless.

Was everyone really kung-fu fighting? The Hong Kong protests prove otherwise

Hola peeps.

It’s been forever and a day, huh? Work has been so insane I cannot remember the last time I wrote to y’all…. well, I am too lazy to check to be honest. Nada much’s happened except more travelling, more running, less gym and getting better at kickboxing. Oh, since the last blog entry Miguel got engaged. Yup, that old rascal finally got tired of being the oldest man at the club singles fellowship. Haven’t met his fiancée Toniola yet but I am sure she musta accepted his marriage proposal on a dare. As soon as he informed me about it, I told every mutual friend we had, and sent their comments to him. They ranged from “woah, she’s pretty…good on him” to “yeah whatever, only after he gets hitched will I believe.” Shall update y’all as I find out more. I threatened him with leasing the electronic billboard above the Lekki toll plaza in Lagos to broadcast details of his impending nuptials. He thinks I am joking but I plan to enquire about the cost of billboard rentals during my trip to Lagos in 3 weeks. Would I rather spend money on eliminating plastic waste on Lagos streets or making Miguel cringe with embarrassment? Well, if you don’t know me by now, you’ll never ever know me oooh ooh ooh oooooohhh

Didn’t go running after work today ‘cos I have chosen Mondays as my exercise-free day. Just HIIT in the morning before work – skipped it this morning as was on a long ass long distance call – then chilling after work. June 29^th was to have been my first ever marathon marathon, not the puny 8-10km mini ones I partake in in Juba, but like I told y’all months ago I was put on the wait list and never called back. It took place at the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy in Kenya and mate that ran it completed the 42.195 km race in 4 hours, 28mins and 52 seconds. Impressive. There was another 10km mini marathon on same day in Juba but chose to skip it as I didn’t receive a confirmatory email from the organizers. Now this wouldn’t have mattered if I was keen to run, as in the past one would show up and get signed up on the day, but lately I have needed to psyche myself for longer before going on my daily 4.8km runs after work. I’ve found ready excuses to avoid running on weekdays and just ‘cos I run long distances on the weekends I feel I still make up for what I missed during the week. It’s not gonna happen tomorrow though, must get back into the rhythm.

Working out in the gym has become harder too as I usually wait until 6 or 630pm to go running – so weather is not so hot – and by the time I am back and do 840 reps of skipping, I don’t have much time left to work out properly before catching the 8hrs of sleep Fibby advises me to get. Must say though that in the past month I have felt well rested after waking up. Think gym slacking’s also due to the fact that gym instructor moved back to Kenya, so there’s no one to measure myself against. Nonetheless, I have decided to skip running after work on certain weekdays so I can build muscle in the gym. Running 3x a week should be fine, no? Plus, Fibby informs me I burn more calories playing footie, mostly in my favoured goalkeeper cum sweeper role, than doing 4.8km in sub-24 minutes. Weird that.

Maybe I have had it with running ‘cos folk I run with are much more dedicated than I am. For instance, a neighbor who does ultramarathons asked me to join him for a run last month and we did 15km in the rain. It started drizzling soon as we left the house and I’m glad he was there as if I was solo I’da turned around and gone back to my cozy bed. A month ago, same mate that completed the Lewa marathon suggested we go running and wouldn’t have done the 22km if I knew that was his plan. The thing is once I get started I feel a compulsion to complete it, that’s why I always psyche myself after work to just leave the house, just leave the house, ‘cos  I know if I can avoid lounging on the couch and turning on the TV and I step out into the street, then no matter how hot it is outside I’d go running. Come to think of it I may have soured on running after the 22km run ‘cos afterwards my knees were shot and for the next couple of days I constantly belched the aroma of boiled albumen, even though I don’t eat eggs. It’s the longest distance I had ever done so maybe that’s way of body reacting. Needless to say, I was a wreck during kickboxing class few hours later. Decided to do both run and kickboxing class that day ‘cos I had missed out on them while struck down with typhoid fever the week before. Guess what? Your favourite masochistic blogger beat that by doing 23km two Saturdays ago and still went to kickboxing class afterwards. This time, knees were shot after 10km but pushed on until the end ‘cos like I mentioned earlier I just have to complete stuff once I get started. There was no albumen-flavored belching this time, and maybe that was ‘cos I had experienced that a week prior when I went for what was supposed to be a fun-filled weekend in Kampala but ended up mostly indoors due to a bad case of food poisoning.

Not sure how I got food poisoning ‘cos after bout of typhoid fever last month I confronted chef and she insisted she only uses bottled water for cooking. Plus, I drink only bottled water in Juba. Just occurred to me there is no global name-brand bottle water in Juba. Hmmm, could it be the same in East Africa and I haven’t noticed? Downside of that is one’s not sure if bottled water in Juba is purified according to a set standard. Thus, I started boiling bottled water before drinking it…. but gave up after two weeks. Could my typhoid or food poisoning have come from plates in apartment that takes on whatever hue of meal I have on it after microwaving? Plates started off as white when I moved to apartment in June 2016 but now bear all colors of the rainbow. Oh well.

After kickboxing class two weeks ago, I went for a mani+pedi – was urgently required as now have a scar on left side of face that was caused by fingernails after a failed attempt to swat at a fly in apartment. Candywoman passed on her powers to Harriet?!  Hmmm. After mani+pedi I went for a massage and masseur Amina could replace Thanos in the Marvel Cinematic Universe ‘cos her hands are made of steel. Her name should be changed from Amina to Aminaaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh after the pain she inflicts on me. My goodness! Had used her few weeks before when she worked on right shoulder that had been hurting for over a year. She worked out the knot in shoulder, so much so I saw visions of my dead grandmother during the experience. It hurt like crazy but noticed the year-long pain significantly subsided after her massage. This time it was turn of my thighs and calves. You know how there’s usually a towel placed over your groin area to provide some semblance of decency and prevent masseuse from seeing one’s junk? With the pain elicited by Aminarrrggghhhh, my dignity went outta the window with the towel as I tried (unsuccessfully) to disengage from her grasp. Good thing door was locked else I woulda bolted out. O boy.

A week after my seminal 22km run I went to Nigeria for boss’s 70^th birthday week-long celebration. First time I flew Rwandair to Lagos and had an overnight layover in Kigali on both legs. The experience on the first leg was awful as had to wait over an hour to be transported from airport to hotel, but on return trip it didn’t take that long, plus a Ugandan mate hooked me up with a friend of his in Kigali who picked me from hotel and showed me around the city. It was strange seeing women walking down deserted roads at 11pm at night with no care in the world. My guide kept emphasizing on how safe Kigali is. I need to go back and explore that city for at least a weekend.

As is the norm when I am travelling outta Juba (or someone’s visiting) I am already counting down to my UK (via Nigeria) trip next month. Any reason to get outta the Juba monotony, you know? Gonna be transiting through Nairobi and would be great to see pal Kui, who is pregnant. Speaking of, I visited a friend earlier today who just had a baby, my pal Mohammed had his second daughter last week, and discovered two other mates acquaintances had kids within the past month. It’s like Oprah Winfrey redux around me….you get a baby, and you get a baby, and you get a baby….

Happy for them all, but better them than me. I can honestly say I have no inkling to have another child. Not even in the slightest. Same with marriage, and I won’t lie there are some lonesome moments where I think to myself, hmm, maybe a relationship would work with this lady…..then luckily, Aminarrrggghhhh lays into me and the pain reboots my wandering brain. Few weeks ago, July 10^th to be precise, I was up late watching TV when I received a WhatsApp message from an ex reminding me it was the 10^th anniversary of our breakup. U what?! It was past 2am my time, which meant it was past midnight in Nigeria, and all I could think of was why’s this woman who’s married with 2 kids still reminding me of this? My instinct was to ignore the chat ‘cos you know she’s bloody MARRIED WITH KIDS but then I remembered I had done same back in 2011, when she tried to chat with me via Blackberry messenger – woah, how did you mess up so badly Blackberry? – after she discovered I was getting married.

I went on with the chat and quickly realized she desired closure. She wanted to know if I really cheated on her or had made up a story ‘cos I wanted to end the relationship and knew if I told her I cheated she would never forgive me. That’s what you get when you have a blog that goes back to 2004 and you spill all past relationship secrets, such as making up stories to break up with women ‘cos you too cowardly to tell them you no longer interested. Let’s call it the Joe Biden dilemma, where one’s long ass record, legislative in his case, comes to bite one squarely in the backside. I told her I truly cheated – ‘cos I had – and then she wanted to know why I hadn’t begged her to take me back, was it ‘cos I didn’t love her? Told her of time back in Bradford when I sorta messed around with some chick while in a relationship. Confessed to then girlfriend, but when she forgave me I didn’t accept it and suggested we break up instead. This could be traced back to time my second ex (or was it third? Well, there was a sorta lap between second and third but that’s not the point) cheated on me, and a day after I took her back I detested her big time and had to end things. I never wanted any of my exes to loathe me that way so I’d rather we ended things than attempting a reconciliation. Now this is where a wise person would ask, “if you didn’t want them to ever hate you wouldn’t it be better to have not cheated on them in the first place?” And this is where I would reply, “Hey, who made you judge over me? Is this your blog?”

Speaking of, I have done so many shitty things in relationships and crossed so many lines in the sand I had set that the positive side of these indiscretions is I can no longer look down on anyone. Case in point was this chick in Juba who complained that her “so called friend” had asked if she’d be upset if she asks me out on a date. “I mean why would she do that when she knows I have always liked you? I know you say you are not interested in a relationship and we never dated, but what sorta friend does that?” Fast forward 2 weeks, I saw same chick who had complained of her “so called friend” snogging that girl’s ex-boyfriend. Few days after that, I saw them hanging out during my evening run. On the rest of my run I kept thinking, “Man, don’t women have scruples? The mendacity! Surely this proves the night I saw them wasn’t some one-time solecism. And she had the gall to call out her friend for seeking her permission before approaching me. Where does she get off? How does she sleep at night? Has she no conscience? Oh wait Tunde, recall the time you did _______? How about that time when you knew her sister but still you went ahead and _______? And…..SHUT UP stupid thoughts and concentrate on running….” Maybe that’s why I now need a prod before going running on weekdays. Maybe Loye was right all those years ago in Beachland when he saw me running and shouted, “You cannot run from your past!” Bah humbug.

So back to WhatsApp conversation with ex. While chatting with her I couldn’t reconcile why she wanted to discuss stuff that occurred a decade ago. But she’s married with 2 boys! She seems happily married, so why this? Things became clearer when I remembered a Rick Warren podcast I had listened to earlier that day. Pastor Rick talked about grieving being good for one and how one should never question how long it takes another person to grieve. I profusely apologized to ex and reminded her what I had expressed to her back then, about how on some days I felt like I wanted to marry her and on others I didn’t feel that way inclined. Felt like a bum when she responded that everyone, her family she meant, could see it at the time but she couldn’t. But I plainly told her the way I felt while we were dating. I never lied to her or took her for a ride. Surely she knew that, right? Right?

This brings me to current situation. I am at the point where if I propose to some random chick I would have no chicks hate me – still trying to be the good guy I see – or at least I would hope not, ‘cos they seem to have finally realized I won’t change my mind. While in Lagos last month I went for dinner with a girl who wrote me a long WhatsApp message afterwards – WhatsApp is becoming bane of my life, huh? – stating if I had made a pass at her over dinner she woulda succumbed, even though she swore to herself she would never have anything to do with me again. She said for a while there she hated my guts ‘cos she had hoped she could change my mind on marriage/relationship and she finally accepted the inevitable, so she decided to keep away from me. I get it. I totally understand. I have done that in the past when I needed to stop feeling someway about some girl who didn’t feel same way about me. Sorta explains why another chick has chosen in the past month not to respond to my messages or calls. I gave her space and called yesterday after 3 weeks of silence to see if I had upset her. She said I hadn’t, so I am backing off. Not gonna probe further into why she went silent suddenly ‘cos we both know why. When/if we talk again our inside jokes are no longer be as funny, if we remember to utter them at all. The calls that used to be daily would now be monthly or quarterly and then strictly on birthdays. I know this movie so well I wrote the script, starred in it, directed it and finished it up in the editing room. It’s a Spike Lee Tunde Joint y’all. How long can I keep this up for? What happens when my six-pack’s faded and blogs are outdated? But that’s many years from now, so li'l mama don’t rush….

Tot ziens and God bless.