Funmi Iyanda

Seven weeks later, I returned, a little rounder, a little calmer and a lot happier. My newly widened and lit up local highway with the new video billboard sitting at one end like a star on a Christmas tree solidified my sense of wellness and hopefulness. It won’t last, I know this but then it isn't supposed to last, I am wary of non questioning self satisfied, apparently contented bigots, they are the sort who turns around and shoot babies and mutilate dogs when your back is turned.

A lot happened in those seven weeks which I systematically intend to bore you with. It spanned four countries and three continents and before you start sneering about boastfulness and immodesty, quell your inner green monster and admit that as a 37 year old crabby bitch who has been working since age 16 and been in the harse klieg lights for the last 10 years I should be able to afford my insanities and excesses. I no be your mate o, just because I dey follow you wear knickers with leggings (yes I do, I intend to age disgracefully).

Talking about you young urns, why cannot a person go shopping or eating in peace without running into y'all moonlighting as waiters, sales assistants and attendants whilst going to universities around the world? I am so often accosted by ex new dawners (they've been watching me since they were in secondary school so what does that make me) who are focused on getting an education and coming back home that I began to feel a ridiculous sense of protectiveness and responsibility towards them. You know, some sad mother then need to prepare Nigeria for them so we don't loss their skills, energy and talents, as though I could.

These army of young people brightened my days, helped get bargains and also unwittingly spoiled show for me. Here is a typical scenario, I walked into Ann Summers (put your eyebrows down jo!) hunting for a special lubricant the child had told me to get as well as nipple tassels for my agent provocateur witch bra when a friendly assistant squealed, "oh you are aunty Funmi Iyanda aren't you, I love you, I love your show, we used to watch you back home, my mum likes you my grandpa……." Tell me how I am to face this bright faced young woman with my planned purchase, I respected myself and bought a nice saintly nightie.

I did make myself useful apart from the fun and games (the shrimp and co joined somewhere along the line) and excessive consumption and shopping (I found a pair of carries blue milanos in the sex and the city film, the one she forgot in the flat and a blood red patent version of Vivienne Westwood's iconic nurse's platforms on sale! Two urban legends!!). I finished my Tutu fellowship program at the fabulous Oxford Said business school (complete jist later) and volunteered time and skills at a young friends' start up NGO.

To maintain the momentum I shall after work hang out with my gorgeous friends including today's birthday girl (she will slay me) Chimamanda Adichie whom I find that a lot of uppity type psuedo literary oyinbos (white people to be non pc) like to lay ridiculous claim to in several corners of the world.


I am yet to read the news or get into the mad traffic so I know I will soon revert to my default angry Lagosians setting but you know what? I doubt if I'd have it any other way. I love my Nigerian existence and I cannot imagine anywhere else where I can experience the complex documented spectrum of human emotions as well as those still unknown to man, as I can in this city. Surely that is living but once I begin to lose my sense of humour, I step back again to regain perspective and for that l am grateful to God and thankful for the ability to.

E ku ile o, the cat is back. Miaow!