Ramadan: Dressing for Work Without Breaking “Much” Rules.


Happy Democracy Day Nigeria.

So Ramadan started a few days ago and in a lot of ways, I’m still not prepared for it. But hey, we must Fast. So today I’ve decided to talk about Ramadan and dressing especially for those of us who work in places where there’s no room for the flowing dresses and Hijab that Islam mandates us to wear as females.

IMG_20170529_072139First things first. If like me you were totally unprepared for Ramadan and didn’t get time to shop for clothes right before, below are simple tips on how to rock the items currently in your wardrobe (at least until you can shop for a few new clothes).

These tips are however limited to head scarves, dresses and pants as they cover the core body parts in Islam.

Let’s begin with head covers. Yes, before Ramadan, you love flaunting those really nice weaves and wigs but how do you keep up with that in Ramadan where you want to cover your hair but you know covering weaves mean itching especially with the Nigerian climate. Well, I say go for braids or cornrows with extensions. They are easier to keep under a scarf/turban and even better with short/small scarves. You get to remain the classy, chic lady without getting your Boss worked up. For white scarves, to avoid hair oil stains, use a wig cap or small silk scarf before tying on the white scarf. It’s easier to wash after.

Again if like me, you’re wondering what to do about those short dresses in your wardrobe till after Ramadan, I say do a little mixing up. Wear those dresses over your pants (Jeans or plain). Try putting that really nice dress over a nice pant in another colour closer to it on the colour wheel, whip out your bag, sunshade, heels or flats and, hello workplace. If you are not really good with what colour goes with what, then stick with black pants or neutral colours underneath those dresses until you figure it out.

Looking for where to do a few quick shopping this Ramadan without going out of your way? Check out @fsquam on Instagram. She has really nice items. Also see below a few of her collections.IMG_20170524_204041

Remember, no matter what you wear, with the right accessories and the right amount of confidence, there’s no stopping you.

 

 

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Strange Bus Fellows, Food and Love in Traffic


Throwing back this Wednesday…

So I was on the notorious Lagos-Ibadan express-way some years ago trying to make it to my cousin’s wedding in time. Alas, the road had another plan in mind. The traffic was mind-numbing. All the while, Olamide’s “Yemi my lover” kept playing in my head. I don’t mean, earbuds-music-playing. I mean the voice-in-my-head-singing-kind.

Just when I thought my head wont stop singing, after about 3hrs in traffic already, someone decided to start sharing traffic tales – of how one time, they were stuck in traffic at Ikorodu heading to one of the Ijebu towns when they saw a bride being whisked away on a bike so she wouldn’t miss her own wedding.

Another talked of how one mother of the bride had to serve the wedding meal to people in traffic when she realized she might not be going anywhere that day.

While this was going on, one woman began coughing excessively so much that the person beside her started adjusting on the seat to give her enough space. This was at the time when Ebola was said to be in Lagos. Everyone on the bus began eyeing the woman like “e fit be ebola” even when we knew coughing was not one of the symptoms of the virus. The space ehn, it would conveniently take two people. The fear of Ebola sha. Who wan die?

Oh and there was the tale of a man who shared with us how he met his wife on a bus trip to Benin. With nothing else to talk about, we decided it was time to talk about how a lot of travellers miss their buses on that particular road because they got tired of sitting in traffic and decided to take a walk. By the time the traffic starts moving again, they can’t identify which bus is theirs.

What’s your traffic story?

An Evening of Many Days…


It’s Christmas eve as Ebun walked home from the hospital where she works as an intern pharmacist. Normally, hospitals are her least favourite. The irony, here she is, a hospital Pharmacist. Over time, she came to realize that it’s better being a worker in a hospital than a patient. Besides if everyone hated hospitals and stayed away, who will take care of sick people?

Her friend Biose always wondered why a cheerful lady like Ebun would choose such a depressing profession. At least, that’s what Biose calls it. But Biose would never understand that despite the hundreds of sick people that throng to the private hospital where Ebun works, She feels fulfilled when one person walks out hale and hearty, ready to take the world again.

That night, just before Ebun left the Gynaecology clinic Pharmacy where she has been posted for the past three weeks, the Pharmacist on duty asked her to attend to her last patient for the day before another intern took over on the next shift. The patient seemed pregnant. However on checking her case note, Ebun realized the patient wasn’t. With a Fibroid growth in a dangerous position and a HIV positive status, doctors seem afraid to operate on her. However, no one would summon enough courage to tell the patient.

“Help me”, the patient’s cries of pain and frustration echoed in Ebun’s mind as she took the few remaining steps towards home. “Pharmacist, e gba mi. I don’t miss clinic nor my drugs. Yet whenever I come here, the doctors say my PCV count is too low and they can’t operate on me. And when I go for tests, the other doctors say my PCV count is normal. Who exactly is deceiving me?”, she added just before Ebun handed her some prescribed drugs.

Ebun remembered how after the patient left again for HIV clinic to see if someone would consider her plight, the Pharmacist on duty had casually mentioned, talking to no one in particular, that no surgeon would take on the lady’s case because they think she has little chance of making it out of the operating room alive.

Ebun knocked on the door to her brother’s flat just then as her sister-in-law opened the door to let her in. The sound from the TV in the sitting room welcomed her home as the door shut firmly behind her. Ibadan is a cold city this time of the year.

Monday Gone Wrong or Just a Book of Subs


I woke up this morning all shades of blue, never mind that that’s my favourite colour and it’s what I’m wearing at the moment. Music is not helping either as Fisayo has been on the Monday morning flow with his playlist. So maybe I simply need to rant. So here I am, trying to rant.

My Keni and Basi told me I give off different vibes to different people and as such it’s easy to misunderstand the kind of person I am. So this is about clearing doubts, in case you have some. Soyinka once wrote that a Tiger does not proclaim its tigritude. It pounces. Sir, I disagree. In today’s confused world, sometimes a tiger has to announce (shout sef, in case the jungle no wan hear) its tigritude.

So here goes.

I am a home person. I too like house. So night clubs, house parties, night parties are not my thing. You will not find me there. Except the house party is not the 18+ kind and the invitation is from someone I trust explicitly. For those that think being homey is equal to Cook. Big lie. I cook for only two reasons. One, I like food and that includes knowing what goes into my food. You will rarely find me eating junk (Pizza is the exception sha) Two, there’s a joy that comes with keeping bellies full. I like that feeling. But this second reason is on rare occasions. So if you ever come visiting and I offer you food (something that is not noodles), you are special.

That said, I know we all have our troubles and demons and fears. Some of us are quite adept at keeping them under wraps and when they hit, we crawl up somewhere to sort them out before we re-emerge again. and that’s fine. Some look to other people to help them figure things out and keep them on the straight, and that’s fine too.

However there’s a problem when people think being your friend is a favour or that friendship should not be mutually benefiting. Some will ‘flash’, and while you’re thinking what could be wrong, and you call back,  they go “Mo ni kin ki e ni” (I just thought to say hello). A flash passes that message how precisely? One thing I’ve learnt, if someone really needs something, they will call.

To everyone out there pulling Machiavelli stunts, una sef follow. If you are the kind that notes how many people buzzed you daily, you’re part of the problem. Then there are the ones that change DP and tell their friends, “You’ll see now, so and so person/people will be the first to ping to ask what’s wrong. Just watch.” Just because people care doesn’t mean they want extra something from you. For some of us, it’s just being nice. You know how they say “be nice to people, you never know who is contemplating suicide”? Ehn oh, we are simply trying to save you from killing yourself. But if for that reason you’re getting the I’m-Obama vibe, please don’t let us stop your greatness. *In Sound Sultan’s voice* Na only you go teach yourself.

Then there are those who keep their mouths shut about what’s going on with them but when it comes to you, they want to hear everything. The moment you hold back certain information, they go begin vex. Some will even say you have Igberaga (pride). You no talk but you want make I talk. How na? Where that one take dey happen? In this world, you get as much as you give. And sometimes, you don’t get anything. Sometimes there are no returns on investment.

I’ve been told I’m the most boring person alive even though I’m nice. Always in my comfort zone, very private yet quick to make friends. Those close to me know I can gist from now till tomorrow. But the moment you start feeling important, all the best fam. Iss nor fight. Who I am is dependent on you. If you’re boring, I will be boring. Ati bee bee lo. But note, I will not go out of my comfort zone to please you if I know you will not do same for me.

Shout out to everyone who has been keeping it real from go. The ones that when they buzz or you meet, even though you haven’t talked in a while, you talk like the last time was just yesterday. I’m happy just knowing you all are doing great wherever you are and that’s more than enough. Keeping daily tabs on people is not my thing. So that the once in a while I check on you, it’s really sincere.

Anyway, it’s the season of change. Change for the better. Don’t be left behind.

PS> Part two is coming. Time to correct certain attitudes and social behaviour.

Oh finally, the Lunch lady is here!