Picking an Outfit for Your Next Owambe {Lagos Party}

Image:Google

Am I the only 'Lagos girl' who does not like Owambes? No hating, but my ideal party is not more than 10 friends hanging out somewhere relaxed with as little noise and as much real talk as possible. The 'typical' Lagos Party - Baddest #AsoEbiBella game, Makeup #onfleek, plenty noise and dance- is not really my thing. 

The few I attend, I only end up getting tired too quickly. I usually can't wait to be back home. Of course it helps when I can latch on to a friend as gist partner, but then that one-on-one thing is not easy at these kinds of parties.

Tife's Tuesday At The Panel

E ma de gbami ke! Has it come to this? Was she really an emergency case now?

She looked around the room again. This must be about the third time that her eyes had gone 90 degrees at the 'human beings' seated before her. She refused to call them her family, but then she still loved them enough not to call them Aliens. Haba! Even Aunty Bee! The Traitor!

"Boluwatife, don't you have anything to say?"

Talk of the devil... and she speaks!

Inside her head where nobody could see, Tife rolled her eyes a million times. She wasn't bold enough to do it for real and risk World War 4. All the noise about Yoruba demons here and there, and people thinking it's about men that break ladies' hearts. Crap.

Elders! Those were the REAL Yoruba demons. These ones sitting before her would not beat her {she wasn't too sure about slap sha} but they could send her to an untimely grave with their eyes and their words. So she really needed to be careful. Not just careful but EXTREMELY wise. She needed to sift her thoughts and weigh her words before they flew out.

Monday Musing: Was your Weekend as HOT as Mine?

It just crossed my mind, How many people start a Monday post with "Yay! It's Monday!"? lol. This is even my first time of doing a Monday post. I'm not really feeling chirpy and all, but I just thought to stop by with a few words.

First, I hope you had a lovely weekend? Most of us never do, at least that's what we always say... Weekends are made in China; they never last! {no be me talk am o!}. 

This past weekend for me was pretty okay. I actually spent most of it resting. No hanging-outs at all; just some lounging around in my bed, with my laptop {movies, of course!}. My naughty bae, Dami came by on both days so it was not all boring or anything. 

My Adventure with Snapchat Lenses!

WARNING: This is mostly a goof-around post. If you're in a 'serious' mood, just ignore the rest abeg... *in jenifa's voice* Thanks you!

Do I still need to explain what Snapchat is? Just to fulfill all righteousness though, Snapchat is an App that allows you tell stories and express yourself using interesting pictures or short videos. You could make a single snap or video or have a couple of videos made into a story. You can even choose to send to a particular contact or make your story public.

When I first found out about Snapchat, I thought it was so not user-friendly. I still think so o! because it took quite a while for me to get the hang of it {not that am totally a Pro at it now or anything...}. I discovered the lenses kinda like a week or so ago, and like it is with every new toy a child gets, so it is with me and snapchat lenses. So I've been playing around a lot with them... They make your snaps so much interesting...and sometimes scary. lol. Check out some of what I've been messing around with...

Feel Carine's pain at being Breast Ironed...

Image: Google

I did a PIECE on Breast Ironing a few days back. When my good friend, Tolu also captured the issue in a short story, I couldn't resist the urge to share. I still think breast ironing is cruel and does not make sense at all. How much does  it reduce immorality or the incidences of teenage pregnancy or rape?

Abeg, Who Breast Ironing Epp?

Read Carine's story:

5 Things You Should Know About Breast Ironing... Yes, I went through it too

Image: Google

Yes, you heard right. It's called Breast-Ironing. Dunno about you, but I was amused at this name. Not until I read up on it did I realize "OMG! I was Breast-ironed!". Of course, I did not know that was it at the time. I only remember my aunts using omorogun- a small pestle-like object- to push in the tiny buds on my chest. The explanation then: I was too young to start growing breasts. 

Between a Young Boy and My Piece of Cake: Musings on Human Unfaithfulness towards God

Image: Google

Sometime last week, I brought home some cake from work. It was quite much and I didn’t think my baby brothers should be ‘punished’ with so much sugar in their system {yea, I know. They wouldn’t quite agree}. Anyway, I gave some to a little boy, a family friend who just clocked 2 years few months back. Now this little dude {quite handsome, by the way} is the type of kid who doesn’t care much for saying ‘hello', except you have something in your hand that you’re willing to part with, and most of the time, that ‘something’ has to be edible.

And so on this particular day,