All posts filed under: Whimsy

For the love of whimsy.

What If People Came With Star Ratings?

Published by Osemhen

Like on Amazon. I’d meet the mom of my son’s classmate and as we shook hands a band on her wrist would flash: 4 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️. A disembodied voice would read out the reviews left by all the previous people she’d met and interacted with. For instance… Pamela⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️- Such a great friendShe’s my daughter’s godmother and has a wonderful habit of taking my kids out to play every month so I can have a weekend off. If I could give her more stars I would! @LagosTroublemaker⭐️- Can’t take a jokeShe blocked me on Twitter because I made a harmless joke about Igbo people. Poor sense of humor. Of course, each person would be oblivious of her own rating. I wouldn’t know what my rating was, and neither would you. I don’t know how possible that would be, but since we’re here imagining things, we might as well continue with the fantasy. You do agree that the reviews would make our interactions easier and help us identify (and avoid!) unpleasant people. When you walked into a room, …

A Few Things You’ve Lived Long Enough To Know

Published by Osemhen

If you have to choose between three pairs of shoes of okay quality, and one pair of higher quality, pick the latter. There are few things worse than cheap shoes that fit badly. You don’t need anyone’s permission to do or not do anything. You don’t need other people’s experiences to validate your own. Self care is hard. It is not always self-indulgence. It is not always splurging on spa treats. Self-care is often about trading immediate gratification for future well-being. It’s investing your money. It’s putting your phone down (is there anything more ephemeral than the latest Twitter scandal?). It’s getting your 10,000 steps per day and drinking water and sleeping well. “Give people the same energy they give you.” Nope. “Treat others as you’d like them to treat you.” Yup. Sunscreen is underrated, especially in Nigeria. Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do for the people you love, is let them make grave mistakes. Beware groupthink even when the motives seem sincere. Anti-fragility is a concept worth exploring, especially when it comes …

On Ghosts From The Past.

Published by Osemhen

What do you do when ghosts from your past darken your threshold? It’s the call from an ex that you don’t expect. First, incredulity. Then recovery. A stab at politeness, at small talk while all the time thinking, “What the bloody hell? How did you get this number?!” It’s the social media message from an old friend. Mutually probing. Tentative. Wondering. “Are you the same person I knew all those years ago? Has adulthood drowned the kindred spirit I once knew?” It’s chance encounters with people who you knew before. Before. And again the small talk. But not before awareness passes between you and you know, you recognise in them the missing of what was. It’s old diaries, pages musty with age, in longhand script that you no longer use because we type everything these days (gosh, I still love, love, love writing longhand!). It’s gibberish that, at the time, was everything and this time is nothing. What do you do when something calls an old name that you no longer answer to? Sometimes, you answer. It …

A Song For Every Season

Published by Osemhen

I don’t remember what sparked the thought. Maybe it was a random tweet that showed a clip of Gorillaz’ “Feel Good”. Or it was my Apple Music subscription renewal notice. Or the despair at checking Google Maps and seeing, yet again, an 18 minute’ drive to my sons’ school, when it should’ve been five. Whatever it was, I found myself fiddling with my phone. Searching for a playlist I knew must exist, the playlist of all the rock/pop songs of the 2000s. The songs of my university days. Isn’t it wonderful how the sound of one song can take you back to a specific moment?   For instance there’s Vanessa Carlton’s “A Thousand Miles”, which takes me straight back to 2004, my first year of Diploma in Unilag when we all still texted like this, “Y r u nt n class? Shld I sign 4 u?” *shudder* 2nd year was Ciara’s! Wande Coal’s Bumper to Bumper was the anthem of my final year. Every single party played this song. I cannot hear this song without …

To The Acquaintance I Met Who Still Refuses To Say Hi

Published by Osemhen

Dear Acquaintance, We’ve met. You know we’ve met. I know you know we’ve met. You know I know you know we’ve met. We met when your brother introduced us after mass many months ago. Or we met when our toddlers both reached for the same toy at that group play date thing we go to every other month. Or we met way back when our parents used to attend the same rotary club meetings and we stood behind them, silent teenagers, as they discussed random things. We sha met. But Acquaintance, you seem to have forgotten we’ve met. Last month, I caught sight of you as I hurried towards church. I looked at you, ready to smile and say Hi, but you stared past me stonily. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so frightening. You frighten me. Your indifference reminds me of mean girls in secondary school and I thought we left such antics in 2003. Have I offended you in the past? Do you regret us meeting? Would you rather I pretended that …

What’s In A Name? Living Two Lives.

Published by Osemhen

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Romeo & Juliet. Someone called me “Jennifer” today. It’s been a long time since I answered to that name. It’s been a long time since I introduced myself as “Jennifer”. 14 years to be exact. It’s typical to have a first name and a middle name. In my family, we took our Esan names first, and then our baptismal names. Odd, when you think that our parents did the exact opposite. Their baptismal names first, and then their native names. My husband’s family did the same thing. Baptismal names first, and then native names. It’s a thing of curiosity how we choose which takes priority. For the first 9 years of my life, I used both names interchangeably. Osemhen. Jennifer. At home I was mostly Osemhen, except for a few aunts who preferred to call me Jennifer. In primary school, it was a 70/30 split. The teachers called me Jennifer. Some of my classmates called me Osemhen, especially …

That Time I Went On A “Blind Date”

Published by Osemhen

Early 2011, one of my aunts (not so much aunt, as friend of an aunt but everyone is an aunt) called me to find out how I was doing and what my romantic prospects looked like. At the time, said prospects were zero. I was 22, right smack in the middle of youth service and obsessing with what my future would be. I was neck-deep in applications for Masters programs, scholarships, writing residencies. I had a crush or two and the feeling might’ve been mutual but I was more concerned with becoming an independent adult. To Auntie, however, I simply remarked, “No.” She’d found someone for me, she said. A relative of her husband. Let’s call him Julius because I can’t remember his name. He was “eligible”, meaning he had a job and she thought we’d be a good fit. She suggested I attend a wedding the following weekend so she could introduce us. “I can’t come, I have other plans with my Dad.” Okay, she said. Why didn’t I come over to her house the …

28.

Published by Osemhen

I turned 28 two months ago. Usually, I’d write a blogpost to commemorate but I wasn’t in the right place mentally at the time.  I am now. What does 28 mean to me? It’s a question I’ve struggled with but also a question that’s very easy. 28 is familiar, like an old sweater. Like I’ve spent all my life waiting to be 28. Like I was born to be 28. I’ve never felt this way about any other age. Does this make sense? Physical identity meant a great deal to me when I was 28 years old. I had almost the same kind of relationship with my mirror that many of my contemporaries had with their analysts. Don DeLillo, Americana 28 is… The age of  “unlearning”.  The age of courage. Of being able to unpack the baggage, the myths, the cliches, the “home training”. They were useful…once. When we were younger and life was easier with a playbook, a rulebook. But life’s so much complicated. And it’s so much work to be likable. And how …

The Art of Balance: Creativity and Your Day-Job

Published by Osemhen

My friend, Ozoz, is a phenomenon. She’s a geologist, a blogger, a recipe creator, a “traveller by plate”, a photographer and a cook. She’s also a mom. She’s  given a TedTalk, appeared on TV a few times, held a photography exhibition and recently collaborated on #TechmeetsArtng. I, on the other hand, struggle with staying awake long enough to update my blog. Forget work-life balance. I’m not even sure what that is. I think about this often: how to balance my day-job with my creative life, my social obligations, my family life, my spiritual life …and a need to sleep. Sleep is winning, I must admit. Someone commented once that she’s not sure how I do everything. The truth is, I don’t. Some days, I should be writing and I just want to bake chocolate chip cookies instead. So I bake the cookies and eat them as I mindlessly scroll through Pinterest and Twitter. I console myself with this TedTalk by Nigel Marsh. I’ve listed it in my post on the  5 TedTalks Every Young Professional …