Paidion Coalition

       Yesterday, a friend asked me why I don't blog about the current political situation in Nigeria. I wouldn't bore you with my answer and the rest of the conversation. For my New Year's post, I decided to do something different: blog about my prayers and wishes for 2012.

Written by Tolu Osasona           I grew up not understanding my mother and definitely not agreeing with her. She responded to situations in ways I could not come to terms with as a kid. To me, her ways could only be described as cruel. Mummy was a no-nonsense woman and had no problem showing it, especially to her kids.             She would always want me to come home before the street lights came on. I was 13 and my curves began to show. Gosh! She never understood that night time was the best time to hang out with friends, gist, laugh, and generally just make merry. I would hear her shrill voice ring out my name.  My friends would roll their eyes, call me funny names, laugh, and even mimic my mother’s high-pitched voice. God help me if I didn’t get to her before she stopped calling my name. She calls my name just once.

Are you freaking kidding me?  That single moment when Maura Isles raises her eyes, bats away Jane Rizzoli’s hands and screams "don’t touch him" shattered my heart into a million piece. I sat in shock as I watched Jane shoot Patrick Doyle, Maura’s biological father, and seeing Maura reject Jane's help broke it. Holy shit! This is the worst season finale that I ever watched in the entirety of my life. 10 minutes till the end and still no break in the case was enough to tell any ardent #RizzoliandIsles fan that the ending would be a cliff hanger. But nothing prepared us for this.

It has been an amazing five months. Thank you all for partaking in this journey with me. I wish you the best. Merry Christmas! Eat, merry and be jolly. And remember, rice and stew very plenty. My favorite part of Christmas, as a kid, was rushing to put on that special " aunty give me cake " dress, twirling around in it and taking food to neighbors' houses as I got tipped! I pray that today is as memorable as the rest. Once again, Merry Christmas and chop belleful .

Continued from Dec 1, 1998 I’ve been stuck in traffic close to an hour now , a nd it isn’t even rush hour. Sometimes, I hate Lagos! If the air fumes and the Agberos on the street don’t do the trick, the go-slow would surely do it. I move the car forward, just a little bit. A little boy runs from the other lane and uses his rags to wipe my screen. I roll down my side mirror. “I beg you to clean my moto for me? Abegi, comot for here,” I say. “ Oya madam, find me small thing nau , ” the little rascal says as he continues w ip ing my windscreen. I hand him 20 naira, the last change I have on me. “Oya comot for here,” I say.

I started my first internship hunt a few weeks ago. I’ve got three more semesters, which includes summer, to my graduation date. And I am supposed to leave college with a minimum of two internships. It has been an interesting few days. This post is resultant from twittalking with @laurenkgray . She tweeted “I think we all learn more about ourselves on the internship/job hunt! Good luck!” Last semester, I knew I was going to intern in the spring. I carefully planned my spring schedule to ensure that I had alternate days of the week free. I was excited and ready to find my internship. I considered many. And I applied to one for many reasons, which included that it was a campus job, all previous interns all had amazing comments about their internship experiences and an incredible woman was in charge. I didn’t get the job. Therefore, I am back to square one: sorting through my contacts, searching through Google and using the Intern Queen. Through it all, I have three weeks to find a...

            “He slammed into me. All I could think of was I would kill him someday.” I feel dizzy as I review my day.             “At 10 a.m., I received a call from him. He had finally called. He asked if I were at home. I told him that I was, but left out the part that I was actually getting ready for my 11 o'clock class. Five minutes later, he told me that he was outside. I needed a ride to class anyways. So, I grabbed my handbag and books, locked my door and got into his car. He wanted to hang out. I told him that I was going to class. We made arrangements to meet the next day. He drove me to my faculty.

Today, we had more than a five minute conversation Okay maybe not that much But a first in a while Been riding on grace for the last few months Closing my eyes saying goodnight Opening and rushing out of bed