The Rita Side

Felicia was her name. He liked to call her a friend. For a man in his line of work, it was not particularly a thing to advertise. Still, as each day passed, he let her suck him into her bubble. Her energy was contagious, her beauty was blinding and he dared not speak of her body, although its perfection always seemed to be the elephant in the room. Amongst his peers, he was quite a bore. They said he was too serious for his age. It was true that his job was not one to meddle with, but one had to laugh sometimes, right? Life was too short after all. If only they knew that a certain female left him in stitches each time they met.  They probably would have advised him to be more devoted to his work and shed off such dangerous distractions. Each time they invited him to come out with them, he turned them down. He could do without their weekly beer and suya meetup. He had his own after all. Maybe it would have helped if he had other friends. Maybe they would have warned him

You know how girls are completely obsessed with the bathroom? I am not particularly different. My wig feels lopsided, I want to go to the bathroom. It's that time of the month, I want to go to the bathroom. My bladder is threatening to embarrass me (as usual), I want to go to the bathroom. It happened that on the day in question, I had to make my regular trip and the closest bathroom was in a building I used to call my dormitory. The place still seemed very familiar to me, (or so I thought) and I knew where the girl's bathroom was. So without a second thought, I took the stairs two at a time and pushed the bathroom door open like I still had rights to the place. Guess who I saw. You guessed wrong. I don't even know the person. I just know that a complete stranger was standing right there staring at me and wondering if I had lost my mind.  Even  I was wondering the same thing!  What was I doing in a boy's bathroom? Why was I in a staring contest with a stark nak

Maybe it is disrespectful to call her that, but I do remember that she was blue. I'd never seen anyone turn blue before. I never understood why they would say blue blood when blood was always red. Not until that day. It was one of those boring mornings where we were standing and listening to what we could barely understand. A man walked into the emergency room. He was so tall and looked like he was in his late 30s. I glanced at him passively and let my eyes wander around the slightly crowded room. Mothers were everywhere, hovering over their sick babies. 'Ma I need your help ', I heard someone say and I turned to see. It was then that I saw blue baby in his arms. He wasn't talking to me but my heart skipped at the sight. Blue baby was gasping for air and he was struggling to hold her gently. He looked a bit too composed for a scared father. I watched as the woman he spoke to pointed towards the front desk and then quickly rushed towards it with him. B

1.  Come early. It is the least you can do:  I had this near-perfect plan of  leaving by 9am for a 10am wedding (I did not sleep at the hotel like the other girls). Well, that would have worked out if all I had to do was throw on a suit and walk in flat shoes. Well, girls have to deal with so much ( and I mean so much) in order to be worthy of attending a wedding. As a bridesmaid, you just have to be extra. Who knew it took four hours to achieve that? Needless to say, I was late. Guess who still got there before the bride?😂😂😂 The church has no chill😂😂😂😂How can the wedding even start before the lady of the occasion?? 2. Know what the bride looks like. It's a basic requirement!   Laugh or doubt all you want but I was recruited as the bridesmaid of a wedding and I knew no one. Not even the bride. How did they find me? My mother must have thought she was doing me a favour by giving me a chance to show myself, you know the manhunt and all. I was so uncomfortable th

I was late. Being early had never been my strong point, but today was special. I came for the food and we all know when the food comes😂😂 While I walked stealthily to the last row, I took in the small hall and it's occupants. It was half full and everyone had tried to look his best. The little boys wore their best clothes and shades that were too big for their tiny faces. I tried to pretend it was not raining heavily outside and the sun was burning their retinas. The girls wore the prettiest dresses; some were a bit too colourful, while others had more stones than the entire Brazil. The teenagers were there too in their numbers; so were the youths and elderly. I quietly took my seat and pulled out my phone. I was not the typical 'church' girl. I always followed mother to church every Sunday while I was at home, but God called it the 7th day for a reason. It is the day of rest after all, and rest I did, until hunger humbled me. So there I sat pretending I could

Dear diary,  This is my third try at writing this post and it had better be my last. Somehow, I feel I'm getting a bit rusty with this writing thing. I've been home all day trying to betray blogger and move to wordpress. Apparently google is serving a living God and I can't seem to understand the wordpress site I am working on. Well... there is still time to learn. So far I have watched four caesarean sections, one manual vacuum aspiration and one delivery and I am bored. I expected so much more from this Obstetrics and Gynaecology posting. My colleagues in other groups have seen more drama in one day than I have in the past two weeks. Each time I hear a new interesting story, I want to weep. Still, I have to tell you something. The manual vacuum aspiration (MVA = evacuating a pregnant uterus) for me has been the weirdest experience so far. You know how abortion is illegal in this country? Apparently, all you have to do to get a safe and legal one is to try the illeg

I long to be different I yearn to matter To be much more than a pretty face Or a trophy at the end of the Chase I'd hate to be anyone's prize To be gifted as a fool's entitlement My mouth is made to bring about a legacy And not to send a man to the peak of ecstasy I've always hated the spotlight Never been good with cameras But my name, I will kill to uphold For one's reputation means more than gold Still I dream to be that woman Without whom he can do nothing With my body, I will drive him over a cliff And my heart in hard times will bring relief (You know how poetry is not really my thing, but 😆😆) Coming soon is #diaryofawhitecoatwannabe. It's going to be the uncensored version of a medical student's experience in a hospital and how she (me obviously) faces death and life and everything inbetween.

Dina twisted her full hair and watched as a few drops of water dripped down her hand and to the floor. It had finally stopped pouring. Unfortunately, the drizzling had refused to end. She looked down at her white shirt and grey jeans. Her shirt had become transparent and she could clearly see the pink lacy bra which she had put on after her afternoon shower. She had dressed carefully before leaving her house. Her shirt had been crisply ironed and her jeans hugged her trim thighs like a second skin. Her black heeled sandals had compensated for the height that she greatly lacked.  Her two brothers were both nearly six feet, but she had been sentenced to the 5'4 category for life. She hated it, but she had bigger problems at the moment. Her shirt was ruined and the contents of her bag lay on the wet floor as she scrambled through it for Jack's spare keys. Her keys actually.  Jack had asked her to move in with him last week and she had said yes. Still, she could not get herself to

I stood behind the old uncompleted building at the end of the street with my face hiding at the back of the pillar and my lungs begging for air. The cock had already crowed twice and I was still running. Running away from them. Running away from the truth. I knew I should not have shown up after they took Him away. I knew I should have gone home, or even disappeared altogether. My eyes which were initially heavy with sleep now shone like lasers. I laughed ironically as I peeped through a crack in the wall. Just hours ago, He had been begging me and the rest of the guys to stay awake and pray with Him for an hour and I could barely last a minute. Just one hour! Knowing that I would not sleep a wink tonight did not assuage my guilt. I wanted to go back and pray with Him. I wanted to go back and do a lot of things. Like tell that servant girl that I was not just His follower but His friend too. Or go back to our supper and keep my mouth shut when he said someone would betray him. I

When he announced in class that he would  dedicate his goals to me, I rolled my eyes. I had already told all my friends that he had no chance and I could never have feelings for him. I had even sworn not to be there for the silly match. Still, after long minutes of deliberation,  I found myself strolling to the small overcrowded football pitch, praying earnestly that he would not see me. He was an amazing ball player, but I could  never admit that; at least not to him. When I arrived he had been fouled and he was going to take the penalty. I had watched his opponent knock him to the ground. His lanky body had fallen into a pile like a stack of bones. I had stared in shock as he picked himself up and dusted his back, taking a stance like nothing had happened.  He swaggered towards the ball when it was time to take the shot and he glanced at it before taking a quick look towards me. I gasped and quickly hid behind the plus size girl in my class who was standing by my left

Have you ever met someone that started a very promising project with so much zeal and then stopped suddenly? Someone that even advised you never to give up on something  and then played the 'I couldn't keep up' card? Well...all rise for the queen of the GIVE UP kingdom! That is me.  I started this blog (and my workout routine and my book and so many other things in my life) with this intoxicating ginger that managed to deceive me. I surprised myself  with my ideas and I was proud of the fruits it bore. I had begun to believe in myself again. I was even ready to bet on me. Then Queen Give Up flopped again.  If you ask me when, how or why I gave up on my blog (or the rest of the list), i may not have an answer for you. All I can say is that I take full responsibility.  Nobody said 'Nneoma, writing is not for you' or 'you are just wasting your precious time'. I just woke up one morning and stopped blogging. Here are the wonderful excuses I came up