The Ramblings of a Madman

That time, the time, I had nothing to do so I went to chill with Denola , Dodos and Makida, and Toyosi and Mode and Joko who were there, but didn't give the camera love that day. x

Afam 18:32:00

Hello. Hello. Moosh. Moosh.

Moosh moosh is hello in a language that could quite possibly be fictional. In that way, it is quite like Iyana Paja. Let me take you back a few years. Yes, let me take you to the days when Afam was still in the mind foetus, because you know that Afam spent 22 odd years being developed in the mind of one perfectly ordinary individual. Or something like that.

Who is this individual? Well, some people call him Dami, one very special lady called him Handsome, a grandmother called him Tosin, some classmates called him Jamal. He liked Jamal, it made him feel cool. I could go on about the names of my creator for an age and a half, but I think I'll move on.

When this individual was interning at a consulting firm, he met a group of people who were interning at a bank. For some reason or the other they were talking about where they lived. Handsome was fine with this. He was perfectly happy to talk about the house in Lekki and maybe even the flat in Ikea that had come before it. When one of them said that she lived in Iyana Ipaja, Handsome couldn't take it. He burst out laughing and said, "You're taking the Mickey!" The girl was surprised, not because she found it offensive, but because she thought it peculiar. She said, "I'm being serious." Handsome just couldn't take her seriously, and he was right not to, because to the undiscerning ear, Iyana Paja sounds like the name of a fictional village which has no place in Lagos, an aspiring mega city. He said, "You're having a laugh. Anyone who knows anything about Lagos, knows that there's no such place as Iyana Ipaja." Yes, yes, tragedy!

And let's move on. This blog post isn't entirely new. The pictures have been up here for an age and a half, but I was extremely dissatisfied with the post. It seemed like something darling Linda came up with, and I couldn't stand it. I literally didn't look at the blog for two weeks because of it. Because it is my blog and not another's I did the only thing I could do considering. I decided to change it.

Denola Grey and I are friends. Yes, there, I said it. I'm a little protective of my friends because, they're important to me and I don't like to share. But, seeing as Denola went on Spice television and declared me his best blogger friend in all of life, I feel obliged to tell you all that I do know him, and as a result I can't summon up the vitriol or the cattiness to say anything bad about him. It's such a bore, I know. If I could unfriend him I would, but he's too important to me. If I unfriended him I'd have no one to tell me the following.

"I don't understand your situation. You're not ugly so why is your hairline running away from your face."

"The surface area of your forehead increases daily!"

And other things like that... It's a new sort of bantah I learned recently, and it is quite enjoyable. I'm so good at it that all I have to do to achieve a similar level of friendly twattishness is stare and cock my head. I'm sorry if this makes no sense to you. I really am. But the thing is, I'm not all there, and the blog's called The Ramblings of a Madman so what were you expecting?

So on the morning on Valentine's day eve I called Denola up. I hadn't seen him in a while and I had the day off work, so I thought it would be nice to hang. Unfortunately, he wasn't as idle as I. He told me that he was doing a Valentine's day shoot with Toyosi Kekere-Ekun and Makida and Dodos. I asked to tag along, because anybody who needs an invitation to do anything is a loser. You may quote me on that. If you don't want me there, then don't tell me about it. People in Lagos are often rude like that...

Enter Afam and typical blogging media type Lagos person

Afam: What are you doing today?

Person: I'm going to the ________ event.

Afam: Oh cool! Free Champs?

Person: Oh yes! Champs. Small things to eat. Fabulous location. It's too bad it's invite only. I would have asked you to come.

Afam: Is that right? I'll see you there.

*Biggest smiles for douches like that. Secret smiles for my real friends.*

That's Denola and Makida. I don't know what they were doing. But you can probably tell what they were doing. You're clever and stuff. Applause for you. Clever Afamzers. Well done. I'll tickle your belly when I see you next.

I don't know if you know this but I really like Makida's face. She's very pretty, but some times, she looks like an Alien. I like the Alien Makida. Stop it. I'm a fashion person now. The more provocative the face the better I feel about it. If I tell you that you're pretty in an ordinary way, I'm not being very n

We need to tell these boys that too much cleavage is bad for you. I mean it. Too much Manvage will give you allergies. Mama Afam told me this, and she's right. Ever since I stopped freeing the nipple I stopped breaking out in hives and sneezing every time my chest greeted the world.

Selfie time with Dodos and Denola. She's thinking, "Damn I'm so on fleek right now. Die Camera, Die!" Yes I know. But this is blogger behaviour. We're in it for the likes, the views and the cash. In that order.

When your friends are using their lips to give you blush you know you need some new ones. There is some truth in that I think, but you shouldn't take that comment too seriously. Issajoke. Iiskidding.

I quite like this image. Well done Afam. Everybody say good job. Say good job geddemit. Do you think it's easy being a blogger? Eh? Eh? Eh? When some complete moron used his English A level as the reason why he was an authority on writing I almost did it on him. Do you know that my words feed me and a dog? Can his words feed anybody? Niggyyyyyyuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh please. Baba D, I'm sorry. I had to. Baba D is some editor type person who's promised to write me a reference should I ever need one. He's good peoples.

And that's Denola again. This picture was probably taken after some Bantah. If you're thinking that that shirt is nice, you'd be right. It's a Ralph, and everybody knows that Ralph stuff may be collegiate/preppy common, but it's such great quality. He probably won't like that picture, but, I do.

Okay, okay. I'll see you in a few weeks. And I may be at the AMVCA's. I think my invite is in the mail. I hope my invite is in the mail. My invite had better be in the mail...

If I do get an invite, Imma man up and get a stylist. I can't go through the stress. I can't. I can't. I can't. And no Mama Afam, you can't be my stylist.

This was the finished product. For more please head to Denolagrey.com

We out!

Drops Mic.

Happy Days,
Afam.

SOCIAL COMMENTARY

Why is Jimi Agbaje trying to ruin my life?

Afam 18:57:00

Oh Afamzers, I haven’t stirred you to action for far too long, but now, I believe I’ve found a cause worthy of your devotion. I’m going to tell you what it’s about shortly, but I can’t get into it right away. I, Afam, the arcane, the mysterious, and the eccentric, have discovered that there’s a politician that’s plotting against me while I go about my very Afam activities. I know you don’t really know what I’ve been up to because I’ve been treating the good dear old blog like it’s my red headed step child, but believe me when I say that I haven’t just been sitting at home eating and getting fat. I’ve been working for Star Gist, an African entertainment show on Africa Magic. It’s really more glamorous than it sounds but I like it. I’ve spoken to Toke Makinwa on the phone twice, I’ve stared holes into Beverly Naya, and I got to see school children treat Korede Bello, Ricardo Banks, and Di’ja like I’d treat the boys of Vampire Weekend. If you don’t know who they are, give them a goggle. It’ll be good for you.

That’s enough about me. Now, I’m going on to the caffeine in the espresso, the cockroach in my cupboard, the mosquito welt on my skin, and the pimple on my forehead - I have two :(. If you know of a natural pimple cure drop me a tweet or something. My face believes that our relationship is democratic. It thinks it can revolt against me whenever it wants and this obviously isn’t the case. By the time I start exfoliating with sand paper, it will learn respect. How can I be a fine boy no pimples if all I’ve got are pimples?

There’s this politician in Lagos called Jimi Agbaje. He’s got a good name hasn’t he. There’s no one in all the world that can’t pronounce Jimi. It’s one of those international Nigerian names. Jimi’s a fairly good-looking man, which helps in politics, because people generally prefer watching physically gifted people on television. He isn’t so good-looking that you’d mistake him for a sex addict, but he’s good-looking enough that you’d give him a second look. He’s well spoken and this helps too because you can’t claim to have gone to school and be sounding like Dame Patience Jonathan. I’m of the opinion that she should only speak her local language and be provided with an interpreter. Jimi’s plans for Lagos are mostly good, but there’s one tiny problem that isn’t a tiny problem at all. Just the other day he said in a speech that if he was elected he’d ruin my life.

He said, “I am here to show solidarity with you on the issue of the toll plaza for which you are marching today and assure you that when we get into office, these toll gates will come down; I will demolish all of them.” The moment I read that, I thought, “No!” All of this is fairly vague so I’ll explain.

The toll gate he was referring to is the Lekki/Epe express toll. The toll maintains the road - which is still one of the best roads in Lagos, emergency services - if your car breaks down, they’ll tow it. And if you have an accident, the ambulance will take you to the hospital, or the morgue. The morgue is important too, because there should be honour in death. It won’t do for your mangled corpse to rot on the roadside, street lights - they do wonders for your peace of mind. When they’re on you see the pedestrians crossing the road and you can prevent yourself from becoming an accidental murderer, and they prevent people from reaching the Lekki Phase 1 roundabout too quickly. I don’t need to explain the last part do I? The traffic that the bottle neck causes will murder me daily. I’ll be depressed. I’m not joking.

Also, if there is no toll, then who will maintain the road? I enjoy my pothole free life thank you very much, and I’m not about to vote for someone who’s promising to remove the tollgate without telling anyone what he’ll do to keep the road and all it’s perks as spanky as they are. Even though the man seems hell bent on halving my standard of living, I’m not running into the arms of Ambode (his competition) just yet because that would be slutty, and it’s a new year. The spirit of sluttishness doesn’t blow until August.

And that’s that I’m afraid.

Happy Days,

Afam