Showing posts with label Port Harcourt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Port Harcourt. Show all posts

Monday, 2 August 2010

Food & Drinks Only

FOOD

Cocktail

Chapman / Sunrise / Piña colada

Finger Foods

Spring Rolls / Sausages / Peppered Goat Meat (Asu) / Mini puff

Native Dishes

Banga / Egusi / Okazi / Opurofulo Soup with Pounded Yam / Eba / Fufu / Starch

Delicacies

Kekefia (Unripe Plantain Porridge) / Nkwobi

Continental

Fried Rice / Jollof Rice / Coconut Rice / Native Rice (Banga) / Vegetable Salad

Accompaniment

Garlic Fish / Peppered Snail / Chicken in Tomato Sauce & Green Pepper / Goat Meat

Dessert

Fruit Salad / Cakes / Ice-cream

DRINKS

Champagne

Moet Rose (Brut Imperial & Nectar) / Vueve Cliquot

Spirits

Remy Martin VSOP / Hennessy VSOP

Wine

Vin rouge / Blanc Vin / Rosé

Beers

Guinness Stout / Star / Gulder / Harp / Heineken

Juice

Citrus / Apple / Pineapple / Mango Juice

Soft

Malt Drinks / Coke / Fanta / Sprite / Redbull / Bottled water

~

...so far so good, we're talking approximately NGN5,380,000 (USD $36,000)

~

Wednesday, 31 March 2010

A Rant For March

I've got nothing to say here; just decided to drop one before April...

I've been having a horrible time at work...maybe they should retitle my job description to The Ultimate Finisher...I am the one who has been saddled with vetting & giving go ahead to my boss for jobs some of my inefficient colleagues started, its frustrating me...so they come to explain to me like I should overlook their excesses...see me see motorcycle oh, na Baroque now dey put sand sand in their garri

*shakes head*

In the spirit of saving costs, I think I would spend far less time & less on petrol if I had a cash machine at my house...I cannot recount the number of times I visited the ATM machine, its high time they consider fitting one on my wall...

I met someone & after a few hours she described me as cool; I believe her, especially because I did nothing to gain the title...I think she's cool too

...over the past month, I have spent a minimum of 30minutes in the loo right after I get back from; this is one of those moments...

*pheeeeew*

The taxi drivers in Port Harcourt (& bus drivers too) should all be lined up & shot...I can't explain that bit further...they are the worst nuisances ever, its unbelieveable...Today, they say, ends the reign of Keke NAPEP in Port Harcourt...Praise be to Almighty God

I used to be afraid of horses because I didn't like the way they looked at me...now, no matter how strong they may be, I don't agree to them being whipped for nothing (yes, you, you know yourself)...Poor creatures...they should be left alone to grow their manes & eat green grass

*laughs*

My back is hurting here, from yesterday's workout
So I leave y'all now & run along

*inhales deeply*

Have yourselves a graceful Easter weekend

Jesus is Risen
Peace out

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Fevrier XIV

The original thought was that there was something anonymous about the exchange of gifts on the fourteenth of February. I have always had absurd experiences on that particular day in the past thus I stopped ‘celebrating’ it. I no longer fancy the legendary lovers’ day. Unpredictably, I got a perfume from the SO, and I reciprocated not.

I spent practically the entire day indoors behind my television, with several glasses of some designer drinks. The evening found me at a classy hotel restaurant settling for something not worth the price, after scrolling the flimsy menu aimlessly for twenty minutes. Just for the joy of it, I thought of not going back home that night, alas Monday morning was looming.

It was remarkable that the entire streets were crawling with people in pairs looking for a corner to get their love groove on. It became apparent to me that a lot more people than I had ever imagined had a stronger sense of the valentine revelry. It was an astonishing carnival out there.

Nevertheless, I still assert that love is overrated and tops the chart as the most misunderstood word in the English language. May we someday, find the balance and keep our heads on our heads.

Happy postponed Valentine to all the beautiful minds on blogsville… (To the women only)

Friday, 17 July 2009

Last Weekend

Friday Night;
Long Drives & Bumpy Wet Roads
More Bad Road & Rivers To Cross
Free Parking & News Café
Loud Music & Uncool Backup
Expensive Alcohol & Some Laughs

Early Saturday Morning;
Airport Runs & Distant Car Parks
Cash Points & Travelex Disappointment
Local Forex Abokis & Mysterious N5k Loss
Rain & More Rain

Saturday Afternoon;
Deep Sleep & Its 1600hrs
Awakened To Mad Starvation
Hook Ups & The Sumptuous Eba & Edika Ikong
Guinness & Smokes

Saturday Night;
Long Bridge Drives & More Rain
Radio Station Tour, Classic & New
Good Chatter & Mad Laughs
Mohito with No Ice & Lovely Lagoon View
Bridges Crossed To Deep Slumber

Sunday Morning;
Early Morning Drives & Drop Off Zones
Warm Duvet & Slumber Part II
Midday Flight & Early Check In
PH, The Garden City
My Home Sweet Home

Now, What Does This Weekend Hold?
Yesterday Would Have Been Mad Fun
But It Didn’t Happen
If Tomorrow Comes
Let Her Speak For Herself

I Hope This Weekend Is Better Then The Last One
However, Let It Be Golden For You All

Monday, 6 April 2009

One Thing or the Other

Weekend & More
Tarmac sprint & Coco’ed Luggage

Turbulence & Potholes
Lasgidi & Things

Airports & Forty-Fours
Cabs & ‘Shako for Mummy’

Plans & Cancellations
30% Alcohol & Menthol Lights

Magazines & Sleepovers
T-Shirts & Upcoming Designers

Air-Conditioning & Standing Fans
Handkerchiefs & Duvets

Traffic & PHCN
iPhones & Portraiture

Feet & Bikes
Bow Ties & Fuchsia

Laughter & some Tears
MUSON Centre & Car parks

More Pictures & Paparazzi
Some High Spirits & Small Chops

Perspectives & Depth of Fields
Late Night Noodles & Fried Yam

Jokes Much & Banana Island
Exquisite & Exotic

Aircrafts & Cars
Atlantic & Nigeria

PHCity & Egusi Soup
Monday & Gloomy

Monday, 2 March 2009

Overgrown Bia-Bia & Other Tales

It’s been a while and I’ve not been able to coordinate myself to write a post.

A few things have been hovering and I’ve been pondering. I’ve been feeling very drowsy a lot lately, and that includes this moment. I wonder why. It feels like I have just popped some
mild prescription sedatives once I have had lunch. This is madness, I think I am pregnant.

I am getting sicker and most tired of this city Port Harcourt and want out, by any means possible, as it were. Is I too much to ask to have cinemas here? Infact, lets not go there. Abuja here I come.

In the past few weeks no doubt I have met some new people and had interesting times. I read a
book and sojourned to a far away country, even before my boss permitted, I was gone.

I haven’t gotten over the beauty of my friends house, where she lives with her husband, one of them is into exteriors and décor. What they have is a home. I'm getting mine soon.

I would love to drive a new
car but can’t quite spend that money at the moment. I have to move out of my house to where I will no longer share parking space. I have a home design in process; still thinking if I should include a pool. Got a bit of space. Any thoughtz?

I have lusted badly after someone I barely know. I thought those days were gone. It’s been not very easy being celibate, well not like I really am. I shagged an old flame without protection during the week. & it was good, sue me.

I want to go to the gym today. I think I have gotten out of shape. I was breathing very hard after jumping a few flights of staircase, maybe it was the cold. Anyway, thanks to that cold, my heat rashes are gone.

My fridge is empty. I have once again, and again, postponed my trip to the shops. If only there was an Tesco or ASDA or Lidl near my house, alas I have to swin traffic to get to Everyday Emporium, forget Park n Shop, they don’t have proper toothpaste or soap there.

I slept at about 2:30am last night, because I had taken a nap earlier. I was so horny I couldn’t resist the urge to do porn. Sadly, it made it worse. (of course I knew that was going to happen)

So much money have I been spending lately on call cards. Its like I run a pay as you go call centre.

I think I am loosing it. This pressure is too much. The pain in my left thumb has not subsided even after four weeks. I sprained it doing on sharp driving move like that, fuck that Aba bus driver.

Did I mention, I might be writing soon for a magazine, but I think they want me to do free work. I no go gree. God will vindicate them. LOL

I think I need a pedicure but I’m not yet ready to loose the this four week old beard yet.
Meanwhile, did you hear about Badderchic and Baroque? (Her last 4 posts) Don’t believe everything you read.

Tuesday, 11 November 2008

Sexy Miss Glade

Clad in a burgundy Roberto Cavalli shirt tucked neatly into my well ironed boot cut black Zara trousers on a hot Sunday afternoon , feeling cool. I was thinking, how some days in church can be so boring and how else we would know that the other days are not, besides my looking vainly at everything that showed an image of me, no matter how unclear.
I saw sweat streaks outside the area covered by my inner vest, so I increased the air-conditioning on more step the moment I got in the car. It was a really hot day although the sun seemed like it had found solace behind thick clouds.

Knowing the emptiness of my refrigerator and the resounding void in my stomach from the hunger tormenting my very existence, I thought about the several bouts of sex I was engaged in the previous night with the floozy I met at Ola’s party 3 weeks ago. I headed downtown to the big shop owned by some Lebanese looking Indians, parked carefully like I always do and walked in.

Strolling down the pastries section looking lustfully at the items on the shelves, I walked straight through to the cold food section, then I saw them, a very nice pair of bum bum, not too huge, not to flat. Perfect to back into me or to ram continuously into. I begged GOD to pardon me, as I was just coming from church.

Her navy blue top bared some skin on her lower back even as the blue denims held fast as they swung from side to side. I walked past her so I could see her face, and then she turned and looked at me. “Not bad”, I said to myself seeing that she looked as old as I would have not minded and that made me decide I was going to make the move if the opportunity came.

It seemed now like I was stalking her because even as I acted like I was paying her no mind, carrying on my shopping, we happened into the same sections at the same times. All the time no hellos. She seemed to have noticed because she moved a lot more gracefully now, looking every now and then at me.

I pushed my almost basket to the home section and she was right at the spot, I walked up right beside her, nodded a greeting and bent over to select my favourite from the colourful array of Air Wick flavours. I closed my eyes trying to remember which of these ones I hadn’t used before, but not before I saw her sniffing her hand, I opened my eyes and sneaked a peek at her.

She had pulled the cover open and sprayed Glade Air Freshener on her arm and was sniffing it. Oh my God! I was in shock. This things only happen on TV. Then she sniffed again. "This is not a fucking perfume bitch” I said to myself. GOSH. I was returning the other on the shelf, and she did it again. It was unbelievable watching her trying to make a choice from the different fragrances like she was in World Duty Free perfumery.

I closed my eyes and wished my friend Jubrin was here to share this with. What a moment to waste. I grabbed 2 bottles of liquor to reinforce my fast depleting alcohol bar at home then headed to the till, there she was again.

This is all she had in the basket, big Dettol, a bag of french fries, one Kit Kat bar and Glade Air Freshener Lavender.

At that point I imagined she might have been only trying to impress me, showing me she knew how to sample and test fragrances. Please I will rather give myself a blow job. Pass.

Monday, 7 April 2008

Customer Served

Out of the corner of one eye, she looks at me then back at the paper she was writing on. “Abeg I can’t, I’m busy” was the scornful reply I got from this narrow ass cheaply clad tramp meant to be the cash teller behind the counter at this grimy looking bank, after I had asked her if she could give me the account number for a customer into whose account I was to pay money.

“Look here, you sad bitch, if you’re tired of the job go home and frustrate your poor ass husband, that’s if you’re lucky enough to have one” I sharply retorted without thinking.

I have had it with these so called new generation bankers that don’t know jack about civility least of all customer services. I could have been anyone for all she cared. All I needed was for the cheeky lass to attend to my request as I had edgily waited for over twenty minutes for my turn. Thinking she was going to give me the same attitude I had watched her give all the others in front of me was the wrongest move she was going to be making in a very long time. The second time in two days from another crappy bank? No way! I was alive, well and was having a bad day enough to give it to her.

Frowning her ugly face, with small tribal marks on the sides of her face by her eyes she looked up agape. “Please sir, be careful oh, what is it?” she told me

“Are you mad? Tell your father to be careful” pointing my pen at her.

“Ah ah sir, don’t be angry. What is the matter?” the cashier beside her, in an attempt to cool me down, interjected as she overheard my rantings”

“Imagine this dirty little rat, telling me that she’s too busy to attend to me when it has come to my turn. Is she drunk?”

Luckily, I had just found the piece of paper I had written the account number on tucked in one pocket inside my wallet. I scribbled the number on the slip and instructed her in a callously authoritative manner. “Take this money and pay it in, if you like put it in your purse”

There’s something about banks that can get me to one of the highest heights of aggravation especially in Port Harcourt, and today was going to be one of the days I was going to have my voice heard.

At this time her assistant manager had walked up behind her in time to hear the end of that brief wrangle. Seeing fire oozing from my nostrils, he apologised on her behalf then took the cash and deposit slip from her and asked me to come over for him to do himself. She tried to explain to him but he instructed her to forget it and attend to the next customer.

He wasn’t only an old school mate but we had lived together in NYSC camp and then in one room for the rest of the year somewhere in Egbaland. In his office, we briefly went over the incident. I told him I was not as angry as he thought, it was just ripe so it had to be plucked.

Truth be told; I felt a little sorry for the bit of hell I let loose on the unsuspecting poor girl. She didn’t see it coming was a plus for me. The day wasn’t mine and I was not going to let it be hers either.

Monday, 3 December 2007

Fall In, Walk Out Of Love

Even after we had taken a break from the relationship because of the swingeing way things had slowed down between us and the sudden way some deep things had seemed uncertain, we still saw each other regularly. She, I called Black and Cute, but you call Ebony, would occasionally come all the way from Calabar to Port Harcourt to do her stock broking deals, and see me too. We never slept in the same house and we were not having sex. The no sex part was especially because she was a good Christian girl and still unbroken and I was not going to defile that status. It seemed like a healthy relationship, although we did a bit of sneaking around, every so often getting physical at the slightest opening, but we had limits which were always silently reviewed and allowing us go a step further every other time.

There’s no one whose dreams have better aligned with mine. Ebony and I could talk about nothing, anything and everything; maybe not particularly share those secrets. We were as compatible as understanding as open as comfortable as in accord with each other. For her understanding, she earned my utmost respect.

On several of these visits, we would stay out and talk about everything, us and why we were so into each other and yet not with each other right now. We never exactly came to any conclusions. However, it was certain that if we were to get back together again it would be clearly heading for a connubial affair which I was not sure I was ready for, at that time. I had lost focus.

For the singular reason of this break, my status would not be wrongly described as single. I had however sunk into my regular randy steed-like self.

Without going into much detail, I had awkwardly become the only person I knew that did not have a steady girlfriend. After a period of ponderings and assessments, I decided I wanted to be in a relationship and Ebony best fit the profile. I picked up my phone and dialled her number off the top of my head. I had to make comeback moves. I cease the very next opportunity, Christmas, which was less than three weeks away, to be in Calabar.


I felt a kick in my bum as I lay on my hotel room floor; I was beginning a gradual ascent into the deeper cloudier bays of slumber. I turn around, awakened to find a set of sparkling white teeth somewhere on this black and cute recognizable face smiling at me. Rose up to a very warm tight hug and then she introduced me to her bosom friend, Goggles, about whom I had heard everything, spoken with on the phone, never seen a photo of and never met.

I had invited Ebony that afternoon the day after I got into town and had left the door open because there were a couple of my friends including guys and girls sprawled out on the floor likewise in the other two rooms on either side of mine. I and the rest of the entourage were all trying to sleep off the morning carnival stress and alcohol and catch some rest before the bash that evening.

She still had that legendary graceful smile on and I was getting jubilant as I pictured her as the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Everything was falling into place now. I was on the way into a relationship, just as I had planned.

After her friend had left us, we hugged again and I leaned forward to kiss her. She turned away in resistance, shaking her head like she was pleading not to be taken advantage of, she hugged me tightly instead. I had missed holding her. We talked and laughed about a few things, caught up on recent happenings, she apologised for not seeing me since I got into town and had to leave almost immediately to run an errand for her folks so we agreed to see the next day just before I leave town.

She was at work when I saw her the next morning, looking super; the time was nigh. It had come for me to say all that needed to be said. We talked outside her office holding hands, leaning on the car I came in. She pulled one of the rings I had on and was playing with it, she always did that, I took the ring from her and playfully slid the middle finger of her left hand through it acting like I was proposing marriage, she then asked me one of those her magical questions.

"Do you want to marry me?”
I smile with one side of my mouth and replied, “Yes, I want to marry you. Will you marry me?”
“Hmmm! You’re not joking, are you?” she enquired smiling too and looking me in the eye
“No, I’m not. I’ve never been more serious in my life” I said, sounding as earnest as I was “If you agree, I’m talking August next year”
Realising I was very serious, she looked down and back up at my face, asking, “Baroque, why are you doing this to me?”
“Doing what?”
“Speaking now, after such a long-time” she completed
“Long-time? Well, you never really are sure about these things but I might as well be now”
“That is what I’ve been trying to tell you”
“What?” I asked curiously
“You’re late” she said
“Late! How do you mean? Am I missing something somewhere?”
“I’m sort of seeing someone else and he wants to marry me”
“He wants to marry you, so? He’s not the only one that wants to marry you, is he?”
“The thing is, I’ve agreed already and we’re looking at the end of next year”
“You’re kidding me! Then, why don’t you have an engagement ring on? I queried
“I told him I wasn’t going to wear one until it was about two months to the time”
“If the reason was to keep your options open, then forget him and marry me”
“Baroque, it won’t work like that”

At this time I had just realised she was not joking. I took my glasses off, ran my palm tightly over my face cleaning my eyes with my thumb and index finger in an apparent bid to come to from this kick in the teeth.

“You are serious, right” I asked in dismay
“Why is that when you guys say you’re ready you want it almost immediately” she said
“Ebony, you and I have been through, wetin we dey wait again? Getting to this point is not as easy as launching a rocket” I asked convincingly
“Why now? I’ve been trying to tell you about what has been happening but you made me believe you were no longer interested in me and that I could go on and date someone else”
“I did? You’re not sure. Ok, so how come you’re going to marry this guy and I don’t know” I demand
“This guy was a friend and we had been seeing each other on and offish” she informed me
“And one day he asked you to marry him and you agreed, just like that. Is he in Calabar here?” I ask again
“It wasn’t just like that, and no he doesn’t live in Calabar” she said.
“And you just stopped loving me?” I asked like I was not shopping for pity.

Silence…

“I need to be getting back into the office” she said, breaking the stillness

Exhaling, I heave a huge sigh although it doesn’t quite relieve me of the immensity of this realisation of the consequence of my delay. “Ok” I say, closing and opening my eyes slowly.

“I’ll call you later. Have a safe trip”

I watched her walk away, back into her office. I knew that was not the end of the issue. I got in the car and drove out of town, leading the convoy of three cars en route Port Harcourt, blaring loud music, enjoying the recent launch of Tu Face’s Grass to Grace Album.

Omo’s fiancée was seeing Ebony for the second time that morning after meeting her at our hotel the previous day and I did not hear the last of how she had never seen a better woman for me. Omo was my best pal, and we talked all the way about what had just transpired. He didn’t make me feel better either, telling me how I had just sat there, thought for too long, and missed what would have been the end of my protracted soul mate search.

I was saying to myself about how in love we seemed to have been until this very moment. She would not joke about a thing like this even if she was smiling all along. She always smiled. We warmed our ways into each other’s hearts and fell deep in love, now she’s walked out but I think she’s looking back.

On second thoughts I’m letting this one go without a fight, or will I?

Thursday, 4 October 2007

Which Way Naij?

Ever heard the phrase, a fool at forty is a fool forever? What then do we say about a fool at 47?

Where are we driving madly to? Port Harcourt people, where una dey go? The traffic lights (speaking of the ones that work) are for my grandmother serenely asleep in her crypt. Nobody seems to notice the lights unless there is a uniformed man with a stick there to caution or punish disobedient drivers and act as a traffic man in case of the power failure that is definitely bound to happen.

I have just gotten home from work and can barely hear myself because of my neighbour’s cassava grinding machine called a generator, right now, I have no reason to turn mine on. If you no pass your neighbour, then you are in trouble; by 11pm, my own trouble will start.

Is it possible by any means that potholes are tackled any earlier before they get outsized and cut the road in half? As I drive through the streets of Port Harcourt, from Eleme Junction to Borokiri, through Trans Amadi or Stadium Road, abi na Rumuola or D/Line, even almighty GRA, I know the exact position of every pothole and their previous sizes, bearing in mind that they will only get bigger.

Preventive maintenance cannot possibly be as easy as rocket science, can it? How else can they award those multi million naira contract? According to the infamous Pat Etteh, the money is for Upgrade not Renovations.

Why on God’s earth do we pay for trolleys at the international arrivals at Murtala Muhammed Airport, and some extra for a porter to help push it around? Talk about the busiest airport in Africa with only one working snail speed conveyor belt, bearing in mind that there are no seats to sit on and wait for whoever it is that is coming to pick you. Woe betides you, if your plane lands in the middle of the night. A colleague of mine had to stand for several hours before deciding to use one luggage as a seat and the other as head rest, because they landed by 1am, thanks to delays by the airline.

By the way, why don’t we have an airport in Port Harcourt? It is unless you are ready to pay twice the price; you are going to drive, almost 2hours to Owerri to fly to Lagos or Abuja? Mentioning not that it is meant to be an International Airport… anyway, that is another story for another day; let them re-open it first.

Why are there mobile policemen on the roads stopping cars and asking for licence and registration? Na their work be that?

What happened to the excess cash Nigeria derived from crude sales in the past years? And then what do we turn to when the crude oil finishes. For the benefit of those who do not know, crude oil is a non-recoverable resource.

My neighbours have not got running water in their houses, but I do. This is because I made arrangements to have a 1000litre tank sit somewhere very far from the ground, right beside my roof.

I have always paid my taxes yet I can’t be caught outside my house after 9:00pm.

There is only as much as I can say, however, I appeal to His Excellency the Executive Governor of Rivers State, DO NOT follow in the footsteps of your predecessor.

Your tenure shall not be known for road resurfacing, in Jesus name.

From start to finish over a glass of Smirnoff (Lemon Twist) and Campari, this post was written out of the abundance of my immediate vexation; it was not well thought over or re-edited over and over…read and feel me