African Puppeteers

Wow! Just came across this amazing Angolan puppet dance. It's actually the only African puppet I've ever seen.  

Here's another puppet dance. It's from South Africa.

Bovi (African comedian)

Watch Bovi's (African comedian) stand up comedy where he compares America's election event to Nigeria's; it's hilarious, and he even did an Obama speech impression.

Videos

Here's a youtube video of a funny skit done by Nigerian standup comedians Bovi, Buchi and Basketmouth.

Here's an amazing Congolese dance video. I think it's called coupe decale:

Party Last Night

Yesterday was a fun day not just because I ate my first good meal since I arrived South Africa, but also because I got out of my room and played basketball (which I suck at), mingled with friends, and danced till I got muscle pulls.

After eating a nice dish of rice and vegetable sauce, I and my pal Julius decided to go out for a walk round school. We ended up at the basketball court where a lot of students were chilling at. There was no game going on, just a few people making shots. There was a girl called Yaya (who I experienced orientation week with last semester, but we never talked much if at all we talked) who kept making clean shots and humiliating the guy playing with her (who I also experienced orientation week with, and whose name I've been trying to recall since yesterday). The guy eventually gave up and left her alone to play.

After watching for some time, Julius grabbed one of the balls and began to bounce. He didn't want to make a sloppy first shot so he kept bouncing the ball for over 30 minutes before he began to make shots. I sat on the grass near the court where everyone else was. I eventually got up to play. Julius finally made one basket and started gloating. I mocked him, saying he made just one shot in 30 minutes of attempting.

I didn't do so well either.

It was late evening when DJ materials were being placed at Chill out (an open place where students go to chill out and eat snacks). It was evident that a small party was being prepared. I left for my residence the leftovers of my lunch, and then went back to the basketball court (which is just in front of Chill Out. Music was playing and students slowly mustered around that vicinity.

Although everyone (especially the freshmen, for this is orientation week) was looking forward to Thursday and Friday (A party at Stones would take place this Thursday, and the O' Party would take place the next night), dancing a little on Monday wouldn't hurt.

After waiting a while for the dancing to begin, I got tired and went back to my res (residence). After sometime, I heard the Nigerian song 'Oliver Twist' by Dbanj playing. I instantly knew that people had begun to party. I dressed up but lay on bed bed because I knew Julius would phone me to confirm that the party was on. Indeed he called me and affirmed it. So I got to Chill Out and found a lot of people dancing and having fun. I walked round gazing at people dancing when my friend called Kuda grabbed me by the arm and pushed me into the middle of a circle of people taking turns to dance. I began to dance and due to my unpreparedness (I usually exercise my joints and limbs before dancing, because most of my dance moves involve extending my limbs) I quickly got tired.
I danced a little more (Nigerian songs are my weakness) and soon began to get muscle pulls in my thighs (I was constantly splitting my legs). Since I could use my legs, I went to plan B. I used my waist (Ladies love it when a guy expertly moves his waist to the rhythm of the music). Especially in West Africa where the music genre of Mokoussa, Kossa, Coupe decale, Loketo, mambo and Soukous are most loved, men who are able to move their waists are usually the good dancers. Here's a youtube video of what I'm talking about:

Pics

Couldn't swim, so I waited for everyone to leave before I got in. The little girl kept staring at me and mumbling random things.




   
Creepy little girl...

Add caption

Second Semester in Monash

I decided to start a series about my life in Monash University, South Africa.

Thursday 21st February 2013 (Journey to Johannesburg)

Although I was glad to finally be leaving for school, I had a most intense feeling of melancholy when I arrived in Lagos International Airport, Nigeria.

Okay let me begin from the start. At 6:30 am on Wednesday the 20th of February 2013, I was up from bed to get my things prepared completely for my travel. I met my mum who was about to drive to her office and she prayed for me (as is the norm of most African christian mothers). She then proceeded to give me a summary of her usual advices: read your books, stay away from bad friends, don't follow women...and the list goes on.

My dad was also preparing his things for the trip. He was accompanying me to Lagos state, for he had some professional business of his own to take care of. I'm delighted to know that he has found a new job since his involuntary retirement. At least he won't be home 24/7 anymore to fill the our ears with trivial complaints, corrections and jibber jabber.
Dad got ready and prayed for me (many Nigerian fathers get religious only when their child is going on a journey, or starting a business). Soon we were off to Kaduna state domestic airport to board an aircraft to Lagos state.

My dad and I were the only ones in the car, and you can imagine how boring that was. He would occasionally begin his jibber jabber, and I would frequently say 'Ok' or 'Oookaay'. Now there's a strong difference between the two: 'Ok' is a reply to an ordinary statement such as 'don't be extravagant with your money'; while 'Oookaay' is a Nigerian way of replying statements that should be surprising, for instance 'That was Mr Abba, he was my headmaster while I was in grade 5'.

With those two replies I made him think I was actually paying attention to his tales of the past; when I was really just thinking about anything else.
There's one great advantage of having a retired military man accompanying you to an airport. It's that the numerous boys (what the elderly military personell call junior staff) which he trained while he was an officer are called upon to handle your check in, baggage and all that. I felt like some VIP as the camouflage laden officers walked in front of my dad and I, carrying our luggage and handling the processes for us which the civilians queued up to pass through.

I flew to Lagos and we spent sometime in the Air Force base to freshen up and have some refreshments before we proceeded to the Lagos international airport. We had the same preferential treatment there with the help of the air force boys my father trained in the past. The flight of 7 hours from Nigeria to South Africa was a quiet one. I watched two movies - Pitch Perfect and The Dark Knight Rises (The Dark Knoght Rises was very disappointing...just saying).

The guy sitting next to me kept bugging me with questions of both necessary and unnecessary nature.
"Why is the cooling system not cooling?" (cos I looked like a member of the cabin crew);
"Will they serve food?" (dude, they just announced the menu 30 seconds ago!)
Of course those weren't my actual responses. I'm not that rude.

At 5:15 am we landed in O R Tambo International airport, Johannesburg, South Africa.
That was when things got tough...with my bowel. On top of that I discovered that the school transportation I book was accidentally book for the previous day, which made the driver go to pick me up with no avail.
I called the driver and was informed that the vehicle would be going to the airport by 9:00 am to pick ip some other students. It was a relief to hear the news, but heartbreaking that I had to wait in the cold airport, with a vibrating bowel, with many farts pushed back in, for 3 hours. I sat down and waited till I began to feel sleepy. I stood up, grabbed the trolley which held my luggage, and walked aimlessly. It was a good idea because I came into an open space where I could fart without anyone to gaze suspiciously at me.
While I sat in wait I repeatedly dozed, and once I think I began to drool. The experience was terrible.

I was finally picked up and conveyed to the university grounds along with three other students who were also picked up at the airport. I alighted the bus and paid my fare to the driver, or rather, the Transport Officer. He was such a jolly old man who usually made everything seem so cheerful and merry; hence his name 'Gladwin' fitted his character. A security guard once told me that he didn't like Gladwin because he usually flaunted his post in their faces. They think he's only an ordinary driver with a fancy title.

The university was scanty of students, but not empty. That was because I had resumed 11 days before the start of lectures. It was a crazy idea, but also necessary. I couldn't stay home incessantly running errands, being cooked by the hot Nigerian sun, and being sucked dry by those seemingly immortal Northern Nigerian mosquitoes. I swear it's like the mosquitoes have become faster and smarter these days. To kill a mosquito now isn't as easy as it were before.

I met with my Nigerian friend Julius. He had stayed in South Africa for the holiday instead of going home to spend it. He's a yoruba guy residing in Lagos state of Nigeria. Sometimes he could be a bit too loud in speech; but that's typical of people of Lagos.

I couldn't go for my shopping that same day because I couldn't find someone to hand me an extra padlock to lock my room with before I return with a newly bought one (I still wonder why the two shops in the school do not sell padlocks when they are aware that students need it). Besides, I felt too tired to go shopping and so I ate an evening meal of hamburger and chips - which I bought from the school snack joint - and then I turned to my laptop to use the internet.

In the evening I got to meet some of my friends from last semester. I met them at the basketball court, where a game of 5-aside football was being played. Many students were around the area playing and talking. I wasn't quite feeling for long conversations; so when Julius returned to his residence (which is off-campus), I returned to mine (on-campus). I planned to shop the next day and visit my pals for the rest of the day.

I heard that there would be a party next Friday. Everyone was excited because it would be the first party of the semester. Time to get my groove planned ;)

My Week

Sorry I've not posted in a while. It's just that I've been so busy making preparations for my return to school, updating my book, and lazying away the remaining time.

I got to open a forex account to begin earning money for myself - my first step on the path to independence. I traded $145 for two days, and now I'm left with $98 (I lost $47). I guess I just have to keep practicing.

I attended the Women of Destiny (WOD) 7th Anniversary today. The WOD is a Christian ministry founded by my mum, and because 98.9% of the congregation are women (particularly old women, who in Nigeria and other parts of West Africa, are referred to as 'Mama'), attending their services isn't something I do by choice. My mum forces me to go, despite the objections of my dad who thinks that It's inappropriate for a young boy to be flung into the midst of old women who love to shake their asses to the rhythmic drums.

The service was all right, except for the following:
- A call for testimonies was made and about 8 women came out. Regardless of the pastor's emphasis on time (we ended up spending 6 hours there), each of the women who were to verbalize their testimonies sang a song before actually telling us what they were there to tell. One would come forth and say, Baba (the title they usually use to refer to God) told me to sing this song Music♩♪♫♬ Volume: ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ 100 %

- The little children scampering close to where I sat kept releasing gas through the service. I had to loosen my bow tie and take some air outside at intervals to survive their farts.

I haven't gone far in my book. In fact, I had to change the entire plot. None of the initial characters I started with are present in this new plot. Nevertheless, I'm sure that this new story will turn out to be better than the one I first had in mind. Perhaps I'll get back to that one when the current book is finished.
I would tell you about what the new one's about, but some people might steal my idea. It's very original, and has never been done before. It explains the supernatural world as no other supernatural or sci-fi movie or book has ever done. 
The best thing about the plot and the feature that make it up, is that it will be something that a reader would think possible and highly believable. The existence of the supernatural world will seem logical after one reads my book. In the course of an exciting fictional story, many anomalous aspects of the world will be explained - including the variation between the spiritual supernatural and the physical supernatural, and how they operate on laws that differ, but mold the general laws of the Earth. 
Sounds intense doesn't it?

I'll be traveling to South Africa on the 20th of this month. Although lectures in school begin on the 4th of March, 11 days of runs (runs is a Nigerian slang used to describe activities like partying, spending money, and general worldly delectation) won't be bad right?
Last semester saw me being a solitary douche bag. After the first two weeks of fun, I just backslid into an unsociable attitude. I stayed in my room, only getting out for lectures. I didn't call my friends, or visit them often. It wasn't actually deliberate; it was more of an unconscious behaviour. Even the girls I knew that liked me never got any reciprocal actions from me. I didn't call them or visit. One girl told me where she stayed (it was the next street from my street), and I didn't go visit her until the eleventh week of our meeting; and it was my good friend Kuda (He's Zimbabwean), who reminded me and told me that she'd been expecting my visit.

But all that is going to change. I'll drop my douche bag ways and reignite my trodden friendships. I just hope my new predilections would not hold me back. I developed strong interest in the research of world mysterious sites and anomalies. I guess my book demands me to have knowledge of them. 

I think that's all that happened this week. Please pardon me, I'm beginning to lose my creativity, and thus I'm getting a bit boring. But I promise that when I get to school, where my days would be filled with experiences, I will be sure to post good stuff right here. Perhaps on the 25th, I'll post all that transpired during my journey and during the weekend.