Life’s too short to use less than 2 ply bog roll

Hola peeps.

It’s 812pm and power has been out in apartment for past 10 minutes. Weird, as it’s never happened in any place I have resided in all my 5.5 years in Juba. Yes, we subsist on generators for power, but this is a strange experience. Feel a sense of calm though ‘cos I am flying out tomorrow. Yup, finally gonna taste air in a different country for first time since March 18^th.

Was gonna say last night was first time I had great sleep since the weekend, but was startled awake at 5am this morning with a wet dream. Didn’t know I still had those. Didn’t think amorous thoughts b4 bed, especially since I have been doing God’s Word First Word, God’s Word Last Word (GWFW-GWLW) gleaned from Rick Warren’s podcast, where one reads the Bible first thing in the morning and last thing before one goes to bed as a way of ensuing one remains God-centred throughout the day, so I don’t know what coulda necessitated the morning spill. Oh, power’s back on. The guys musta ran outta diesel and didn’t realize it.

I believe GEFW-GWLW has helped, especially with work and being patient with peeps; also, with avoiding nookie. In addition to GWFW-GWLW, I have taken on Dr Warren’s suggestion to choose 10 minutes a day for quiet reflection and listening to God. Been doing that for 2 weeks now and it ain’t easy focusing on keeping mind clear to hear from God. Not sure if God’s spoken to me yet, but the second or third day after I started it I had the most contented day ever. Don’t know how to explain it but everything was just breezy. I woke up at usual time and wasn’t tired, did abs workout and still have sufficient time to leave the apartment earlier than normal, work went great, etc. No day has been like that since, but some days I get prompted to reach out to certain people just to say hi. Was that God talking to me?

Wait, come to think of it I saw Ralph Tresvant’s new video All Mine on YouTube before bed last night and though lady in video had a penchant for floating around in barely-there clothes that enhanced her cleavage, I didn’t think about her much so that couldn’t have been reason for wet dream, could it? If you ask me, I think it’s body’s reaction to finally leaving Juba after 4.5 months. I suspect this because this morning I beat my 10km record by over a minute! Maybe I’d hedge my bets by watching the All Mine vid on loop the night before a marathon.

This trip almost didn’t happen as though I did a Covid-19 test on Monday and was found negative, whoever wrote the report spelled my last name wrong and assigned my gender as female. Thank God a mate knew someone at the center who was able to rectify the issue. I am off to Nairobi for 3 days, Turkey for 9 days, back to Nairobi for 3 days and then return to Juba, where the health authorities can choose to quarantine me in my home for all I care. Just need to get on a plane again. By the way, I chose Turkey ‘cos no Covid results are required prior to entry. Hoped the UK woulda rescinded their 14-day home isolation policy by now, but if they don’t by next month I am still gonna go there, just so I see my daughter. Need to revive the spark in our relationship as the weekly FaceTime calls haven’t improved one bit. It’s been like watching paint dry for both of us.

Travel’s coming at right time ‘cos ijebu garri’s long run out and electric toothbrush has gone kaput. Eerie as same happened to EJ’s toothbrush a week before mine. You know how certain couples start to look alike after being married for a while and female roommates’ periods tend to sync, is that what’s happening to EJ and I? ‘Cos it’s a long-distance relationship, we don’t spend enough time together to take on each other’s physical features, could that be why our electric toothbrushes died at same time? Hmmm.

So chuffed to leave Juba I wrote out a packing list last week and packed for the trip yesterday. All’s syncing in properly for trip as my lower back’s no longer hurting as much. You see, the good thang about being immured in Juba because of Covid is I have taken on greater physical endeavours. Did another self-marathon, though at a slower pace (42.2km in 4hrs 21 mins and 50 secs), and during kickboxing class I have been sparring with a heavyweight. He’s strictly a boxer so apart from sparring I have been trying to match him in feats of strength, and that’s how I messed up lower back. We decided to flip trailer tyres as part of our physical training 3 weeks ago and back’s been hurting since. Just so you know, left pinky finger and big toe are still hurting so the Darfurian ended up causing me great pain for nothing. Drats. Must try a Turkish massage, either in Istanbul or Cappadocia, to see if it alleviates my pain. Running mate from Juba’s already in Turkey so she’s gonna be my travel guide. Can’t wait.

Man, it’s been a while since we communicated; how have y’all been? A member of the running club’s relocating to Addis Ababa this week, like another colleague who left few weeks ago. We used to train together for the Paris marathon and jointly decided to skip it until next year as not sure the race’s gonna hold on rescheduled November date. Since I no longer have these guys in Juba, aim’s to attempt a solo marathon at least once a quarter so I will be prepped by time next marathon comes along, if/when the world’s back to normal. Due to intense running, some female remarked about my uber skinny frame yesterday. Hey, abs are tighter than ever so it ain’t all bad.

During the send-off shindig for the guy that went to Addis last month, a pal brought along spiked cookies. In fairness to him he told me they were spiked, but I didn’t believe him. They tasted nice so ate two and I thank God they didn’t kick in until 5+ hrs later. That days was Independence Day here and as I drove to a bar to pick up 2 girls – one a longtime friend and the other a friend she had recently introduced me to – there were more check points than usual around that time of the night. You see, the last time war broke out in 2016 was around Independence Day so folk get extra jittery around that date, with increased military presence on the roads and car searches. I usually avoid driving around the area where the bar’s located at night, but since the ladies didn’t have a ride I volunteered to pick them up. Foolish idea as got extorted at 3 check points for being the foreigner that I am. Was so glad the effect of the weed cookies didn’t kick in until I was safely back home.

Ca 20 mins after we got to the apartment, the going-away party ended so I left the ladies watching TV in living room while I went to bedroom to work as had to submit a report the next day. Was already pissed at the ladies as they were being extra belligerent at the military checkpoint and, of course, I was the one to bear the brunt of the soldiers’ actions. Took me back to time December 2000, when I returned to Lagos from the UK for the Xmas break and mate and I left a party to drop off a female friend at her crib. As was usual then, there was scarcity of refined petroleum products, but as mate was interested in my female friend he offered to drop her at home. We were driving from Anthony Village to Allen Avenue when we came across a check point at the turn before Opebi Rd. The police officers searched the car and fake indignation when they saw a jerry can of petrol. They accused us of smuggling petrol and our appeals to the contrary fell on deaf years, even when we offered to pour the petrol into the car’s gas tank to demonstrate we had no intentions of selling the fuel at a mark-up. The natural order of things woulda been us haggling over how much the officers would require to return the can of petrol to us, but this girl wouldn’t have it. She went on and on about how corrupt they were and how she’d take it up with her dad – who was then a member of the House of Representatives. The officers got mad and told her to do her worst. As she went on and on, my mate and I got hairs on our balls back and joined her in berating them, all the while thinking once we got to her house she’d get one of her dad’s orderlies to return with us. So we left the can of petrol and drove off to her house, cussing the police all the way. As we got to her crib, she hopped out and said goodbye. Goodbye?! No one’s coming back with us to scare the policemen? “Oh, sorry, my dad’s in Abuja”, she said. Shite. My friend and I drove back to the checkpoint and did the most groveling we had ever done in our lives to get the officers to accept money in exchange for the fuel, which we promptly poured into the gas tank. The actions of the two drunk birds on South Sudan’s Independence Day was eerily similar.

So like I was saying, after getting stripped of all the money I had on me and we drove home, the weed kicked in. Efforts at preparing a PowerPoint presentation for the next day’s deadline proved abortive as the text font appeared to increase and decrease at same time, and my senses became acutely sharp. Kept hearing water gushing in the bathroom even though no one was in there; I know ‘cos I checked……repeatedly. I felt very, very weird. Stopped smoking weed around 1992/93 and stopped drinking a year afterwards so couldn’t fathom what I was feeling. I became uber prayerful when girls said they had to leave and knew I would have to drive to a nearby hotel to get a boda. Reversing my car outta the compound musta taken all of 5 mins as I kept checking and rechecking and didn’t let the girls in the car until I had maneuvered it successfully out of the compound. During the 5 min drive to the hotel I made sure to take the back routes while muttering prayers under my breath, and still can’t explain how/when I got to the hotel. They hopped out and I prayed again as I drove home. Mind kept flashing to that scene in The Wolf of Wall Street where Leo DiCaprio and Jonah Hill drive while high and believe they did a credible job only to return the next morning to find the car in ruins. Had a difficult time sleeping once I got back to apartment and was still buzzing when I woke up, but car was fine. Somehow drove to the office and it wasn’t until 2pm – about 20hrs after consuming the cookies – I was back to normal. Don’t do drugs, kids.

If that was only incident that occurred since last blog entry that woulda been more than enough, but 2 weeks later I invited mate’s friend to lunch, and she came along with another friend. That’s when I knew what kinda chick she was. Oh, forgot to mention that on night I brought them to the party, while I was attempting to work in the room the girls raided my fridge. I mean it was their first time in my home and they shoulda at least have asked before diving into the refrigerator, but I let that slide. So she brings her friend along for lunch and I am thinking it’s definitely the last time I am inviting her out. After the meal she musta signaled her friend to give us some space ‘cos that’s when she asked if I’d be her sponsor. I’ve been in East Africa long enough to know “sponsor” means a sugar daddy - a glucose guardian, if you will – but I still couldn’t believe the gall. I joked that I needed a sponsor myself and she went into a spiel about how our mutual friend had introduced me to her thinking I’d be her sponsor, and if I ain’t keen to sponsor her she’d introduce me to someone else. U what?! Couldn’t even fathom how her friend could think I am that way inclined. I mean I hadn’t seen her in yonks, but last time we saw each other often it’s cos I used to get my mani+pedi done at the salon she worked at. What part of that lent itself to my being viewed as sugar daddy material? I kept my distance and didn’t hear from Lunch Lady again until this past long weekend when she sent a message wondering why I hadn’t invited her for lunch. The gall.

Downside of being stuck in Juba this long’s that I’ve found myself talking to women I’d normally ignore. For instance, Lunch Lady’s been in Juba since 2015 and never bumped into her until last month, probably ‘cos, pre-Covid, I was always out of the country. A few weeks before I met Lunch Lady at friend’s lounge, I bumped into another girl at same venue. Now mind you, I am trying to avoid nookie so it’s mostly to expand circle of folks I hang with that I am not averse to meeting these females. This other lady’s from Tanzania and stood out probably ‘cos of her lighter-than-everyone-in-the-place complexion. Struck up a conversation and agreed to meet for a meal during the week. Meal went great and so was conversation. I’da known something was up when we spoke a few days later while she was hanging with her friends and she put me on the phone with them. Few nights after that, I agreed to meet up with them at the lounge and by time I get there they are all wasted. Worse, the TZ cutie was all over me, calling me baby. Huh? When I excused myself to hang out with the owner of the lounge, she and her friends got angry and at some point she told the owner of the bar she was willing to fight for me. Once I heard that, I took her aside to try calm her down, but she surprised me by saying she’s interested in a relationship with me. Told her plainly that I wasn’t down for same. Put her behaviour down to alcohol, especially after she called the next day to apologize for her actions. She hasn’t reached out since though. Need to find another place to hang out at ‘cos since my friend’s lounge’s new, it’s everyone’s favorite hangout spot in Juba. Place is packed every night, Covid or no Covid.

Until I find another place, being friends with owner of the most popular lounge in Juba has been quite advantageous, if one discounts class of their female clientele. The owner hooked me up with her chef, who has been coming to mine once a week for past 2 months. Chef’s called Vincent and I swear I woulda proposed to him if he wasn’t married. Dude can cook! I have been in Juba this long and only tasted plantain when a friend based in Yambio sent some over. Vincent so knows his way around Juba markets that he gets me catfish and plantain regularly. Got him recipes for mosa and jollof rice and he makes them! I am soooo giddy. I come home sometimes to find little surprises, like the day he made a killer meal of onion bhajis or last month when he prepared chilli poppers. ‘Cos apartment’s small and not well ventilated the smell of plantain usually wafts onto clothes in bedroom. Food tastes so good I wear the clothes with pride. Doesn’t even bother me one bit that animals now trail me when I go running. Yup, some days I actually eschew cologne and dab back of ears and inside of wrists with vegetable oil instead. When folk comment on it I stick chest out and declaim with pride I use Eau de Ororo.

Work has been crazy hectic but made progress despite the circumstances. Should be especially thankful as have neighbors whose contracts ended in April, but they haven’t been able to leave the country as Naija’s airspace remains closed. I think one of the guys is depressed as he mostly stays indoors and refuses all efforts to get him to hang out. The dolorous sight of him makes me thankful I am busy. That said, I got frustrated a few months back as some joker was introduced to us by some higher-ups in government for assistance in acquiring equipment. Now I am all for helping build local capacity so dived into the task and put my company’s reputation on the line only for the punk to start avoiding calls and making promises ad infinitum. Can’t remember last time I had a conniption, but this tinhorn brought it out. If you don’t have money, say so.

Oh snap, almost forgot to tell y’all about an unexpected house guest that caused similar agita. A friend, well more like an acquaintance, showed up at my doorstep unannounced asking if she could crash for 2 nights while she sorts out a place as she had been abruptly kicked outta her hotel. At the time I didn’t think too much about why she came to me of all the people in Juba. Plus, her dad lives in Juba, albeit far away from the central area, and assumed she didn’t wanna stay with him to avoid returning home after late nights at mate’s lounge. Well, 2 nights extended to 7 and by 5^th night I was getting uncomfortable ‘cos not only was my house guest acting like a li’l princess she kept drinking my expensive, hard-to-find cans of malt. The first night she moved in I offered her the couch and she huffed and puffed and said I’d sacrifice my bed for her since she’s a guest. I ignored that, as 2ice in the past when we have hung out and it was too late to drive her home I offered her the bed and slept on the couch. But that was a one-off, well two-off, and it was only for a night each time. She kept complaining about this even as she exceeded the number of nights she had promised to spend here. At night, I would shut the door separating the living room and bedroom to grant her privacy, but one morning while doing HIIT she knocked on the door and I assumed maybe she needed to use the bathroom, but it was to ask me to reduce the sound of the HIIT instruction video playing on my iPad as it was disturbing her sleep. Couldn’t believe my ears. Returned from work that day determined to have a talk with her about her needing to move. Turned out to be unnecessary as she told me she had secured a lease. Hallelujah.

Sometime about her 5^th night here, not sure if it was her behaviour or the diminishing malt stash – it was probably both - that made me offer to ask my landlord if they had a spare apartment to let her, but reckon that musta pissed her off ‘cos a week after she got her place I sent a message to ask how she was settling down, but she didn’t respond. Same thang after I sent a greeting on her birthday. Few weeks ago, I saw her at mate’s lounge and she purposely avoided me. Good riddance. Can now freely walk around apartment in boxer shorts while drinking malt and dreaming of things to do in Nairobi and Istanbul. Yeah, life’s good.

Tot ziens and God bless.