A lady once messaged me saying she has read Burnt Clay three times. I smiled, it was so cute, I have read it almost ten times (not anymore, I cringe so much)… I know it’s weird😒

There’s nothing I enjoyed more in my life than writing Burnt Clay, reading it comes a close second. Some of my favorite memories where created with the characters of that book and no one is allowed to tell me they don’t exist, because they do.

It may be amateurish, it may be cringe, it may have serious plot flaws and conversations that seem off- it may have many issues, but Burnt Clay was my awakening. It was my pet, my baby, a major step in my journey of self discovery, for that I am forever grateful.

I was so unsure about writing Burnt Clay. At a point, a few chapters in, I almost deleted it. I used a pen name to hide my identity, my friends didn’t know it was I writing it until I was many chapters in (then they started threatening me for updates🙄) I still cringe when I hear some people (especially older relatives) have read it 😂, but I have gotten ALL 💯 positive reviews Alhamdulillahi.

I have gone on to write TLC and I’m working on BB (very slowly🙄😔), and I still do not feel that connection I had with Burnt Clay, hence my lack of commitment.

What was different? The purity and rawness of the portrayal of the story. 

Burnt Clay was MY STORY (not literally, it isn’t my story at allllllll), but it dropped straight from my mind to my phone to get picked up by the readers mind. No filter, no panel beating, no trying to make it more ‘aesthetically appealing’, no trying to make it fit a typical story style; I wrote BC as it was and I still am yet to be this free with a story… probably adulting is making me go for more serious adult-acceptable story line and style and that just kills my story’s flow because I am such a child at heart.

I met a lot of wonderful writer/reader friends because of this story. We bonded on a high scale.

I made fans people. I have fans (Lmao, I still feel like an impostor).Till today, people message me about this book. I absolutely adore the characters. I love Sabira to my bone and I still want to be like her when I grow up.

Sometimes I still feel like why did I ever write it? Sometimes I still feel like is it worth people reading it? Most times I feel like it doesn’t have a future in print. But whatever may be, BC is and will probably keep being my first love and I am proud of our journey together.

My characters are real life people with emotions and a future in my mind. The book feels like a close old friend of my mind cum knight in shining armor.

The writing process felt like a big grand purge and the feeling of fulfillment and satisfaction afterwards is still indescribable.

But all these would’ve not been possible if I had listened to my first instinct and if I had stopped. So anyone, anyone that wants to write, push your instincts aside and unless you cringe at what you write and you know in your heart you won’t want to read it, write it.

Ciao

If you are here to read about how I excel at solving mathematical problems (I suck at Math), or how I’m a pro basketball player or how I can read minds, or something equally uninteresting and eww-inspiring that only simpletons do, then you shouldn’t move on from here. My life is not that serious and honestly I don’t want it to be. 

Now that that’s out of the way, lets move on to the 12 totally amazing and awe-inspiring things I excel at doing😊.

1- Thinking incomprehensible senseless stuff right before I sleep off – My gibberish creative time and space is right before I doze off  or when I’m between consciousness and sleep… that time, my brain rolls films of nonsense that makes sense to my brain and that I’ll not recall after I’m fully awake.

But I swear when that is happening, I feel so inspired I can write a book.

2-Washing toilets- Is it weird that this is the first thing I actually typed (brought it down to seem more normal)? Because I think I was washing a toilet when this topic came to mind. I was washing and thinking, damn! You are one good toilet washer. In another life, I could wash toilets for celebrities and charge €1000 per session (clean toilets only).

I just really hate to see that I’m done with a toilet and it’s not very clean so I use up a whole bottle of Kleanit (best toilet washer ever.. my sister sells it), use brooms, plastic brooms, soft and hard sponge, Jik, detergent… everything until the toilet looks like Trumps teeth.

3- Sarcasm – In my mind or verbally. I cannot stand people who don’t get sarcam. If the snide sarcastic remarks I make in my head are to be revealed for a day, I wouldn’t have a single relationship with anyone I know afterwards. We say the most sarcastic things my head and I.

The remarks may be orally said but I have to be comfortable with the person first and I have to be sure the person will 100% get what I mean and so far, only 2 people get my ostensibly sarcastic, dual-meaning, exaggerated comments. Whenever we are together with one of them, she calls me mad like 4 times on average. 

4- Elite humour- I’m sorry if you don’t get my humor. It’s elite, you are not. Since people always use the word elite for even the most inappropriate of things, why not?

When you see me smiling alone for no reason, most likely I just thought up a super funny joke or scenario or I’m engaging myself. Telling this scenario out loud is never a good idea because it never sounds half as funny so I just keep it in my head and laugh … alone… like I’m crazy.

5- Writing fast- Maybe because I learnt how to read and write late (in my primary four; before then, I’ll write letter by letter as in alphabet by alphabet as in if the word on the board is ‘fringe’, I write ‘f’, look up at the board, write ‘r’, look up…) much to the chagrin of my classmates and teachers… so when towards the end of primary 4 I was hit-in a moment of epiphany-by the reading formula, I became a torrential writing force.

 I write so fast, faster than I process the word, faster than my brain processes the word. 

In classes where lecturers talk in the stead of lecturing or dictation, I usually have notes while my classmates complain about not even being able to jot. Even though the notes are not comprehensive to others apart from me.

Because of that, my handwriting is horrible.

6- Being inconsistent- I’m sorry but this blog is suffering for it. When I start (any new project or commitment), it’s all fun and games and I have enough ginger to make tea for a village but before you say ‘ginger’, my steam has run dry. Sigh!

7- Overthinking/ Over analysing: I over the top think through and think back on everything imaginable. Whether its a fact or an incident or a person or something said and done or something I said and did or a movie I watched, a book I read, the little baby crying in the bus, the man driving the Napep I entered today who looked like he has herpes, the woman in the market who might have shortchanged me, the intentions of people and their trustworthiness….. etc. Endless list. Some are deep, some are vain. 

And I analyse all these things from every angle possible.

8- Over looking things- You can do something to me that should elicit an explosive response and I’ll over look, but that just means I don’t really rate you or I don’t want to indulge. I can overlook and downplay serious things and choose to react to ones that may seem trivial…

9- Typing on the phone- I take notes in class on my phone sometimes and I usually keep up, I wrote my two books on my phone, my University project, over hundreds of thousands of words… and I type really fast.

10- Changing topics- You think you’ll loop me in a conversation I don’t want to be in, you need to have another thing coming. I can change topics so subtly… you’ll notice, if you are smart, 4 minutes later.

11- Daydreaming – Why do you think I fail a course? Because I’m a listener, I understand while listening better than reading, so in class, when I should be listening, I’m usually daydreaming about another world, therefore I’m not listening , therefore I fail to utilise my listening learning capacity… it’s sad.

12- Making parfait- I am at liberty to once in a while market my brand and I’m saying this with my head high that I make the meanest greek yoghurt and greek yoghurt parfait that has ever graced your taste buds. And this is me not even selling myself.

Do you relate to these things or do you find some weird. What are the things you excel at? Share, share lets see.

Do you have basic  stuff like hiking or crazy stuff like spending a night under water (that has no sharks) in a cage because you want to see if the ocean lights up in the middle of night?!… nope, not on my bucket list either.

So bucket lists are basically a list of things one wants to do before he/she kicks the bucket. Little wonder they are usually daring and/or adventurous . People have all sorts of things on their bucket lists from the normal to the unthinkable to the putrid.

There are some things on many bucket list that are so scary chances are I won’t be able to complete them because I may actually kick the bucket in the process… now that is a proper bucket list.

Now some things are so basic I have decided not to add them because they are like many people’s life goals. And naturally, below this list there subs but for now (I’m sure I’ll remember some later) these are the 20 top things on my bucket list.

Here are the things on my bucket list that is on that of many (mostly oyibo)

Common List

1- Bungee Jumping: Jumping off a high place while secured by the ankle.

My heart will sink below my heart as I plunge upside down to my sense ultimate demise but boy will it be fun! I’m in. 

2- Sky diving : The act of jumping of a moving plane which high up in the air with only a parachute back pack. I wanttttt! 

3-Hiking: Hiking sounds like so much fun. I would have wanted to camp out but I’ve read enough Goose Bumps to scar me for life.

4- Mountain Climbing and Abseiling-  Check. Did that in Shere Hills Jos.

5- Waterskiing- I’ll fall a hundred times, will never learn, and I’ll give up for lack of balance but at least I’ve tried.

Not Very Uncommon List:

6- Run in a marathon- I know I’ll probably run 5 miles , walk five more, crawl for 4 minutes and slump! But I was in a Marathon. And if I walk, I know I’ll make it to the finish line as the last person in 5 days time.

7- Jump off and on a moving train: I’ve actually ticked  off jumping off a moving train. It was not intentional and my knees hurt for weeks. Indian movies instilled a love for slow-mo jumping on a moving train.

8- Drive a Tesla- Or ride in a Tesla rather. 

9- Walk the streets of Paris the whole night- Sigh! A dream!

10- Go Kayaking or getting on a Gondola- Gondola please so I’ll feel a connection with the Merchant of Venice. I love anything Italy. Kayaking looks fun in cartoons, I don’t know about reality.

11- Sleep under the stars- Spend a whole night sleeping under the open starts with the starts twinkling at me and the soft breeze twiddling around my skin. The life.

12- Try thousand of oriental and intercontinental dishes from all over the world… except for Wuhan of course.

Not Common List

13- Spend two weeks indoors without peeping out. Indoors!

14- Stay in a beach house that has no form of technology at alll for three days. How refreshing will that be?

15- Date a Qatari Prince: Will never happen but come on, what’s the harm in wishing?

Now To The Ones Unique To Me

16- I want to sit in a Napep for over 10 hours straight coursing through the city and taking in the people, lights and sounds and just being part of their day for a day.

17- I want to sit on a major highway in the middle of nowhere and get a stool and a chair out. Sit on the chair by the roadside,  fold my legs, get a newspaper out and read through my shades. I’ll pour myself a drink, and sip slowly as cars occasionally pass by and the  force from their passage sways my veil about. 

18- I had always considered Kaduna-Abuja expressway. Sadly, this is one thing I may not strike off my bucket list.. or might but it may cost millions.

19- Seat on a trailer from Kano to Kaduna- Two hours enough. Like open trailer where people squat with cows and kolanuts and stuff. 

20- Walk for a day straight resting only for a few to recharge and keep moving. 

Now that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is my bucket list in all it’s glory and craziness. 

Do you relate even remotely to it?

Which are on yours and which aren’t.

Being broke means seeing the world in a different light. You think my mouth waters when I see that yummy picture of tantalizingly amazing looking burger? It doesn’t, I simply fail to see the tantalizational part of it, it’s black and white till my pocket can afford it; being broke dims the senses that need stuff.

I have different types of broke;

  • Posh broke- I may not have much money but I know I’ve got some assets tucked in there for rainy days so if push comes to shove, we balling.
  • Slow broke- I have money in my account but I have to manage it because it’s just 9th January and January has 366 days in a year and emergencies can come up.
  • Orange broke- I don’t have much money but I’m expecting plenty from different sources soon so let’s roll. I’m on orange light before it turns green.
  • Broke- I have little money. I can’t but something substantial, I know that my Lord will never let me suffer so I just dash it out so I can reach the ultimate level of…
  • Broke broke- Bam! No way to go. That’s it. Red light. Dime-less.

My biggest problem when I’m broke is that everything buy-able starts looking appealing and the need to buy that thing springs up from nowhere but I can’t because my bank account is against my buying progression.

Being broke is bad, being a broke girl is annoying. Even though you know that you have something to eat (except you live alone or y’all jointly broke), but there are things a girl just wants to buy.

Most (if not all) of us have our obsessions which may be fixed or may vary with time. For example I love skincare and haircare products and if I have money, maybe all of it will go there. I love clothes, I love salty snacks (Pizza dem) and food and well… my money goes there. And pringlessss…

Now when I’m broke even buying pringles involves calculation; 2+2=4-1 thats…., then shi’s real.

My list will be looking like. ‘WHEN I GET MONEY I’LL GET’; 

-Piggy bank

-Fixed deposit account 

-Adashe

-Invest

-Buy gold

-Start forex trading

-Keep money in my old wallet and intentionally forget it😂 (ain’t happening)

Money comes and list legit flies out of brain. Sigh.

How many times have you searched through that bag in hopes of getting that 1000 naira you may have forgotten 3 years ago? Hah!

When you are broke, your powder will conspire with other cosmetics and they’ll start finishing. They won’t even finish at once, it’s one by one so that with each “made in china’ you are reminded of the shallowness of your pockets. 

And as fate will have it, when I’m broke is  when I’ll start seeing pictures of all the things my heart tilts towards; a shiny bottle of 24k gold ampoule, bubble face mask, argan hair mask😭, sleek Nova hair straightener, a classy gown (which I promptly screenshot and tuck away in a corner of my heart, most likely never to be sown, ever), and all the works. And I can’t buy them. 

That’s when I wonder why in the name of eveything beautiful did these goodies not appear when my bank balance was higher.

It is when you are broke that your friends will now have money. Shu?

And that’s when they will think it’s a grand idea to go for an outing, and to a costly restaurant nonetheless. I mean fam! Did they send you? At that point, your brain will start spinning excuses but you remember they are your friends and they were all broke 5days ago so … good bye on your outing. This nigga will netflix and chill!

Being broke no dey show for face. I definitely won’t wear rags even if I’m at edge of absolute destitution so when you tell people you are broke, they find it hard to believe because apparently ‘you don’t look it’. What’s the colour of broke now? Ribs, bones, cracked lips and snot? I be broke but I still be queening like

When you are broke, people who are even broker than you will now start looking for bashi. What will I borrow you my darling? My lungs? 

if you don’t relate to more than half of this then you don’t know broke, boy bye.

If you relate, let’s form a support group, Broke Nigressess Action Group (the action part is an irony).

What are your broke girl problems?

I want to lose weight but I don’t want to hear the mention of exercise, dietary changes, portion control, surgery or any non-surgical procedure, starvation, or any slimming tea that cannot work within 4days of use and cannot prevent the recurrence of fat. In other words, I need to lose weight by doing one magical thing once to make the extra fat disappear never to appear again.

One concept (out of many) brought by the white man that I do not appreciate is that of ‘fat’ culture. Fat girls used to be the divas in Africa. But no! The white people zoomed in and said ‘hey, see those bunch of chubby happy people, let’s go call them fat and try to make them miserable’, all because of what? So that I’ll stop eating fried meat? Lai lai.

What is fat to me maybe not be fat to you. My definition of a fat person is completely different from that of the white man who categorizes people as either anorexic or obese. What they don’t know is that all those ‘fat girls’ who get bullied in high school are normal in weight over here. 

Anyway, as a fat girl everywhere (and I use the adjective ’fat’ with so much fondness), problems unique to your body size tend to arise. For example the extra awareness of body mass and the space it takes, especially when you want to take public transport and the only spot available is one between two fat women (I hardly see fat men in public transport), and you have to squeeze your own fat to join them, and they just mash you to one side, you literally feel your own fatness getting rolled like dough, that’s when you’ll know fat is elastic.

How many of you can’t climb Okada because you feel like the tire will burst, the Okada will not move and your side will slowly go down while the driver goes up until your weight under-balances the whole thing and the driver falls off. I have a friend who has this as a phobia.

Let’s talk about image. Wearing clothes can be easy enough before you look in the mirror, that’s when you start to find everything wrong with it. From the fitting to the bust to the waist to hips, you might take it back to the tailor to shape the waist because it will look better and by the time the clothes are back, you can’t fit in them. Reality check: our waists are layered, what did you expect?

I usually look at myself in the mirror each morning to monitor my belly’s activities. Are you getting rounder, flabbier or flatter? And when that slimming tea I’ve been taking for two days whispers ‘flatter’ to me, I see that my stomach has shrunk and I yelp in joy. My 20k slimming tea is working. It will take 5 days for me to realise I was just sucking in my stomach. My 20k wasted. And I’m like…

Slimming teas are stupid something. As a novice, I advise you to maintain. Do not start using those things if you will go to work, school, bank and definitely not market because it will turn your stomach into a craze house. Make sure you will be at home for the 30 rounds to the toilet to come. One will think with all those trips your stomach will touch your back after one bag of tea. Instead, it’s like you have just shited out your intestines but the fat dey gan.

When you feel like you are ill and you google what it means to have itching fingernails, hard feet, rumbling stomach and fat thighs and they tell you that one of the diseases has symptoms such as Weight loss and you are like ‘Well, the disease doesn’t sound so bad’ even though another symptom is dimentia. But then you are stupid.

When you are ill for days and you lose 5kg and everyone is lamenting how the sickness has taken a toll on your fat and you are also nodding with a sober expression but inside you are jumping and screaming in happiness. You don’t mind if the illness will eat up all the excess fat without making you feel sick.

But then you get better, and you start making up for all your lack of eating. And now you eat 2 big indomie and still feel hungry instead of one. You can literally feel the Kg add up till you are fatter than you were. It’s annoying that all that sickness and nothing to show. 

Stop watching reality shows, movies, cartoons, news and TV if you want to maintain your sanity in a world that celebrates and rewards slim. They’ll just remind you of your extra weight every minute because their fine is characterized by being weightless while yours is not but sometimes you forget that. The Kardashians will make you want to get a waist trainer to slim it in but it’s a lie, it wasn’t waist trainers and exercise, it was surgery. Nigerians die during Liposuction, be warned, case study: Former First Lady.

What fits the goose might not fit the gander. My skinny friends and sisters can eat 50 tonnes of fat loaded food and never gain an ounce (witchcraft and wizardry), I dream about eating cucumber, I have gained 23KG. And then once you start eating junk after a diet, forget that thing, you are broken rollercoaster, you must go all the way and then some. Your eyes will become a scale and as every bite of juicy goodness hits your stomach, your KH has upped but you can’t stop. Don’t worry, perks of being a great person.

Even disney princesses are slim. The fattest is Tiana who is black and no more fatter than my thin sister… and she still has flat tummy. They make it feel like we can’t find our Prince Charming. Just because you can’t run and hug our prince charming without toppling him over and suffocating him and we can’t be carried bridal style expect Prince charming is a weight lifter (in that case Prince Charming will want to make you start gyming, it’s a trap), doesn’t mean our happily ever afters will be less beautiful.

I, for one have grown so much fond of my fat. It’s my shock absorber. I’m less shocked at turn of events or actions of people than slimmer people who lack the padding to absorb the shock before it reaches their heart. Plus it takes more effort to break my heart because my heart lies on a pillow within. I think that’s why fat people have better sense of humor and are more sarcastic.

I’m not fat to the point of being unhealthy… Thank God. And I don’t advise anyone to be, if you are please do something about it. I try to keep fit by walking and strolling and that’s why I can cover more distances on foot than many. I’m just an average Jane who, in a sea of thin, hungry looking people looks not chubby, but fat. So I’m not a ‘not-healthy’ advocate. I just want to rock my flabs in peace, and I’m addressing my number one critic- Me.

I have more. Maybe will share it in part 2. 

What are you fat girl problems?

Disclaimer- The writer writes to connect, to be relatable, to be a home for people who might just not have the right avenue to vent. This is in no way depicting my everyday life. I am not bemoaning a condition or anything serious. This is real life issues on a light note and I shouldn’t be explaining my writeups but well…

The relationship between myself and I is a love-hate one. I love myself, I absolutely do but there’s this lady, her name is ‘I’, she resides somewhere- I’m not sure where but I think it’s either my brain, my mind or my body. Sometimes I think ‘I’ is my shadow but then she lingers even after I can see no visible shadow. ‘I’ is more than the physical or tangible, in fact the fact that she’s not tangible makes her more powerful.

‘I’ is annoying, she annoys me to no end because she is too dauntless and daring and adventurous and she lands me in trouble all the time. Are you looking for bad advice cookie? That’s ‘I’. And she nags so much I find it hard to ward her off so to make her keep shut and have her off my case, I just go along with it… bad decision.

I want to lose weight so I try to cut down on food portions and avoid ‘bad’ food and even when I see a super juicy and cheesy chunk of junk, I direct my mind away by myself, but not ‘I’, ‘I’ redirects me. She comes with this super therapeutic voice and goes ‘do you really want to do this to yourself Hafsah? Do you really not want to indulge in this piece of edible luxury? You only live once you know’ and she is sooo good like an expert siren, I usually end up trailing her demands.

And later when I’m drowning in the guilt of it, she sits cross-legged on a plush chair by the side of the grey cube room that’s my mind and smirks to herself. She’s usually writing on a notepad- that’s one thing myself and ‘I’ have in common- and I think she’s scoring herself. By now it will probably read: ‘myself’ 7- 10834893 ‘I’.

‘I’ doesn’t like letting go of people so even when I have a crush on a guy and I want to move on, ‘I’ pushes me to just check his Instagram page one more time for updates, ‘It helps with the healing process’ she says. But she’s lying because I end up stalking him for three more hours….unhealthily.

‘I’ is (am) a hoarder. Like when she tells me I need stuff I don’t need. She’s like ‘Hafsah we are going to need this in the future, keep it’ and the future comes, and it goes and we never need it but we’ve kept it.

And she even hoards memories, some good ones- I must give her credit- but she hoards even the unnecessary, bad ones and that makes her hold grudges like an expert in the field of grudge keeping (there’s a pun lying here somewhere).

For example there’s a family gathering yeah? And I see that cousin and I’m approaching her because I want to catch up and… ‘I’ actually stops me. She says ‘remember when you were 4 years 7 months 1 week old and this cousin flicked a lit up match at you and it burned your arm? You still want to talk to her after THAT?!!! And the memory comes back anew, I feel the pain of the matchstick sizzle on my arm and I make a 360 turn away from the cousin. ‘I’, you are here on banned from interfering with my family life ever again.

When I learn a new song (which is usually some few lines), I don’t like letting ‘I’ know. Because when she gets hold of those lines, God in Heavens! It takes the whole spirit of the Earth to make her stop endlessly chanting them like a breathing mantra. And it annoys me because it’s stuck in my head every moment! But ‘I’ enjoys it. She just loves tormenting me.

You think you have naysayers? Mine resides within! This lady is my worse critic. Everything I do is subject to judgement. I can’t try to look pretty in front of the mirror, ‘I’ will start dissing me. And if so help me God I try to dance or worse sing, ‘I’ contorts her face like she’s smelling poop and grimaces, I’ll have to shamefully stop. That’s why I don’t like taking pictures because ‘I’ calls each of them ugly save one or two. Because of that, I may take 100 pictures and two days later, I’ll delete the lot to one or two. The ones approved by ‘I’. I hate her guts.

I know you are thinking I should let go of her and I’ve thought about it but even as I’m typing this right now, she’s in here laughing her heads off (wickedly) because she knows she’s here to stay. She knows she’ll outlive me, because I know that house, my mind will breathe and exists even after my body gives up the ghost.

And I can’t mute her because in between it all, she drops the most amazing writing and story ideas. She’s my perfectly ever-engaging muse. That’s where our love relationship comes in. I love her for the endless supply of stories she provides. Ever wondered why my stories are usually sadistic? Well….

And she’s my gossip partner, who else will I laugh about my boss with? Most times when you see me laughing to myself, it’s myself and I sharing an inside joke. And she spins the most romantic stories when she’s on her monthly’s. And she can be sweet in a mean way. She comes up plenty horrible ways to get back at people many of which I thankfully forcefully dismiss.

‘I’ is (am) a creative fellow, sometimes mean but usually to me and generally, there’s not a single dull moment between ‘I’ and myself.

I’m not Hausa, or Kanuri or Fulani. I’m from the Bolewa tribe of Yobe.

I can neither sing, nor dance, nor paint, nor draw nor do anything creative apart from writing.

I learnt how to read in primary 4 (I think I was dyslexic)

I learnt how to speak English towards the end of primary 4. Prior to that, I knew only the basic ‘Good morning, yes, no, stop’. 

I write faster than anyone I know

I love everything natural. My hair has been natural from birth. I’d rather go out with my face bare than apply even powder.

I am a pretty good masseuse. But I don’t tell people because they might demand a massage all the time. If I were on another dimension, I probably would have been a professional masseuse.

I never eat chips with ketchup only. I eat chips with ketchup and yaji (ground pepper) together. So much sizzle and spice God!!!!!

My favorite colour is green and favorite number ,7

 I am a highly principled person and stubborn to a fault! I can be very obstinate 

I absolutely love pringles. I can eat a can in one sitting.

At some point in my life, I didn’t believe in love because I had never actually ever fallen in love. But then the craze that love does exist was (and is) still on so okay… yay! Love is real.

I sleep better with a pillow on my head

Sometimes, I direct my own dreams. Like a movie script.  Cut! Bruce Willis do not shoot him yet! God! . Okay take two. And…. action. I honestly dreamt up an action dream with Bruce Willis in it (would have been better if it was The Rock but no problem) and I controlled the whole movie.. sorry dream. So no one could shoot me without my permission and even if you do… it’s a dream so joke’s on you.

They call us Lucid Dreamers… we can bend our dreams to fall in line with our will.

I want to take up a second degree in psychology 

Plenty people who read my works assume I’m a small person. So they are mighty surprised to find an almost 6 feet, plenty KG human looking down at them.

There was a time I’d often confuse bakwai and takwas , dankali and doya, tattase and attarugu. I still confuse Sahoor and Budabaki😂😂

I’ve never watched (and I’m not proud of this)… I’ve never watched ‘The Sound of Music’

I live off lists. I make lists of what I should buy, what I buy, who I owe, who owes me, sometimes what I should do…. I don’t really love lists, lists love me.

The more comfortable I am with you, the more the likelihood that I’ll unleash the full fury of my sense of humor which happens to be quite dreadfully hilarious. So if I’m holding back, comfort-o-meter is down.

If I can really, fully eat bones, goriba and sugarcane before you, then I can trust you.

I was a very very shy and reserved kid, I couldn’t look people in the eye.

What I consider the most beautiful thing on my face are my full eyebrows.

If I could add 4 feet to my height, I will

I’m not actually 6 feet tall… yet. I’m 5’10 (close enough) but love it when people think I’m 6 feet.

I’m addicted to newness.

I’m easily tired of talking except to people I really enjoy talking to, then I never get tired.

I still haven’t met a person who has read the book ‘1984’ by George Orwell apart from myself.

Plus- I make mean grilled steak

I don’t have an ex

I can look at the sun rise and set, and the moon, and the stars, and the clouds and sky and trees and anything nature all day

I’m lowkey a romantic at heart

Awkwardddd!. Okay it has been established by now that I can be fazed by stuff and being called beautiful or receiving nice compliments in general are a major cause.

Before now, when people say I’m beautiful, I just smile uneasily at them and try to think of how to reduce that ‘beauty’ so that I become less noticeable. 

Then people started thinking I’m rude so I reply ‘thank you’ drop a smile and wish they hadn’t said that because now I’m self-conscious.

You want to see Hafsah lying on the ground, stone cold, dead, zero heartbeat, just get a man I consider attractive or have a crush on sincerely say that in public , au revior! I’m off to heaven for embarrassment.

🤦🏽‍♀️

What was worse is that I never even believed it. It wasn’t until I started seeing myself as anything good looking that I actually started taking people seriously. So chances are that if you’ve ever said that, you’ve just wasted a compliment and  caused me to face an unnecessary episode of embarrassment. Thank you.

Now, because I understand how the human mind works and what looks good to you may not look so to me because of perspectives differing and aesthetics being subjective and stuff, I might actually believe you but then I’m at a stage where looks are just by the way many times(depending on my phase because sometimes looks are everything to me) so I’d appreciate the compliment and honesty and that’s it.

Am I less awkward at receiving compliments? Yessssss. I can even be jokingly arrogant about it but not in public because I fear I may varnish in plain sight.

I was the most frustratingly awkward human to wake up on this Earth.

It’s better now but that doesn’t mean I don’t get awkward, just less. Even today, I’d rather watch as people talk when we are in a closed group than to be the one talking, that means the limelight is on me. But ironically, I loveeee public speaking and I’m pretty good at it. I can speak on a stage before thousands of people but no, I do not want to be the one speaking in a closed group, weird much?

When I was younger, especially during my secondary school days, it was bad. I know we all went through that phase because hey adolescence! but I was the typical Wattpad novel awkward teen with body image issues and lack of confidence. I couldn’t look people in the eye, not even a newborn.

I couldn’t speak to people straight and guys??? Shoot me please. I get wobbly kneed when passing a group of guys… who may be 2 junior boys.

I get nervous talking to the ladies too, I feel like they are always forming opinions and passing judgements about my self and body and my awkwardness which made me more nervous and therefore more awkward.

I know you are tired of the word but I can’t help it. I never wanted to be noticed among the crowd, the limelight was my enemy but that was kind of hard for the second tallest girl in the whole set so I always stood tall, but somehow made sure I was never seen, just seen through.

I think that was when I developed my reading habit. Books saved me when nothing else was looking bright. Thank you books, I love you too.

I hated mingling with others (still kind of do), I conversed with myself (still very much do), I craved alone time (still do), I’d rather listen than speak (Same even now, except when it’s in writing) but at least, I don’t get awkward around people and around men because, well, they are men…nothing special ( full disclosure: I don’t get as awkward)

Today, some things considered normal make me cringe, some conversations make me want to run, some people make me nervous, I still don’t know how to react many times and I still don’t like being among people but am I very awkward? Sometimes, but it’s better now. 

Some people are people’s people. They can be around people 20 hours a day and never get tired. They’d rather be with people longer than they will be with themselves. They are extroverts, social, and very confident and comfortable around people.

Some people cannot stand others. They’d rather be alone 20 hours in a day. In fact, they don’t even like people. They are very reserved and might not be confident around others. Socializing is a strenuous task for them.

Then there’s me. I can be around people, I can socialize, I can be with others 20 hours in a day but honestly, I’d rather not.

Sometimes I want people around, most times I want them away. And I know why.

It’s a different thing to chat or be on social media, I’m at home so no (much) problem. But for me to actually go out of my house! That is a mighty problem. I don’t go out except I can’t help it (Market, Hospital…. oh yes of course, work). Socializing and hanging out are major tasks even for a productive purpose.

When I share no common interests or point of view or discussion point with a person, then I can’t relate much with him. If I can’t relate much with a person, then there’s not a point being around the person. Now I might feel this way around people I can even converse with.

For me to want to be around a person then that means the person really gets me to a certain extent and I can be myself with the person at all times. I can handle otherwise (when I’m not comfortable with a person) but I’d rather not, so I’m always surprised when some people are comfortable with everyone and they can be with everyone and speak to everyone. How fam?

I don’t even like talking much except it’s about a novel or cartoon. I don’t like repeating stuff, if I say it once I’d rather not say it again.

I don’t like arguing with people’s opinions and beliefs.

I don’t like it when people think my normal conversation is a battle of intellect and so they start showing off their IQ when in fact I don’t even know if I have one.

Generally, except when I really see the need to (because of the person or topic), there’s little or no point to talking more than absolutely necessary. Ever.