Fabulosity and rain not a wise combo
Feeling bloated, while looking in the mirror, I am unhappy with the sight starring back at me, as it has been roughly a few months I had stopped any form of exercise. Usually, after such a long stretch away from boot camp I start feeling like am the fattest calf ready for the hunters’ harvest.
However, not about to be harvested, as the days of fattening rooms and the purpose for which they were used for disappeared to oblivion, feeling like a bride purposely losing weight to fit into an overpriced one day outfit called wedding gown, off I went to fetch a few exercise equipment.
My first attempt at exercising after a long period, being semi botched but still worthwhile, I opt for one that would decrease the growing tyre folds round my abdomen area. Feeling a few abdominal pains and thinking oh good am being whipped into shape, after a few skips and tummy exercises I headed to the shower. The feeling of being fabulous and sexy with myself overwhelms me this morning (talking about mental denial hmm).
Getting dressed I observe my tummy and (in denial dare I say) feeling like the six pack was out (I wish) I choose a nice outfit and felt so wow’d in my glorified mental thought of felling sexy. Dressed and out the door I hopped into my ride (keke napep) to work. With the way the breeze was blowing the day couldn’t have seemed any less cool.
The Bayelsan weather being horrible with the rains, due to it being the season in play, did not deter my mood. The weather, for me, couldn’t have felt any better and life to me felt good.
Just as I got to the office thoughts of strolling out to buy something to eat for breakfast flashed through my mind. My bag strapped to my shoulder, I pull out my chair to settle in and start the day’s work. The feeling of keeping the workout got me grabbing for my purse and boosted my need to keep the sexy appeal going, as I felt one doesn’t have to be in workout cloths to exercise.
Noting that my leggediz (walking) journey on a daily was similar to that done by commuters at the national assembly, off I went soaked in the euphoria of my assumed flat tummy and tucked flabs.
I got myself some fried yam (tired of boli (roasted plantain) abeg) and peppered stew (not a smart healthy choice but oo well), which I settled in to eat upon returning to the office. Clock ticking and within a few minutes, like it was timed a heavy downpour of wetness starts to plague the streets, roofs, and any unfortunate person outside during this time.
I am unperturbed ‘cause I am in doors. It slows and stops from time to time and by the time I am ready to go home the showers had seized. Still feeling fabulously sexy, even after my fried yam experience, I head out the door saying my goodbye pleasantries to those around. A few metres to the junction and I feel a few drops, but I’m not swayed.
Swinging my umbrella while walking a surge of excitement floods me as I see a keke arrive. ‘God bless this keke’ I think to myself as it came right on time, I hop into it heading to my restful destination for the night. With darkness starting to engulf the atmosphere I remain all smiley and pleasant. My thoughts start to drift, I am not thinking of anything important other than still carrying on the euphoria of my sexiness, thanks to my nice outfit and feeling of fabulosity. My eyes gazing through the eyesores from Okaka to Baybridge, I take no notice of what is about to happen until it happened.
While sitting in the middle of two men an amazing driver of a passing car, in a haste, had manoeuvred his tyres into a pothole filled with rain and mixed red sand. Disregarding the pedestrians and narrowed door framed keke’s on his path, his tyres plunge into the pothole.
Unphased by what happened he continues on his way leaving me stunned by the incident. “Ahhhhh” I yelped my mind noting that I just got splashed. If this had been the only time I would have consoled myself and tried to resurrect the feeling fabulousness but no it happened twice, with the rain starting all over.
Thoughts of being fab flew out my head, replaced with yelps and out came my wannabe pidgin English “Oga abeg u nor fit close your tarp, water dey enter ooo,” as other non-caring drivers passed by my, at this point horrendous ride, splashing proceeds from the rain on me.
Just then the guy sitting to my left smiled with a little chuckle, am sure he was wondering ‘omoge dey speak pidgin’ (fine girl speaks pidgin). Both men alight close to Tonbia junction and with my destination still farther down, Ede Epie, I settle in. Trying to relax from my already awful experience I notice my ride has a leaking roof.
The rains had started seeping through holes of this recently praised keke. ‘Oooo Lawd’ I think to myself what a way to end my high morning feeling fab and coming back drab and soaked in a mixture of what Nigerians call potopoto (dirt and rain). I couldn’t help myself but to start counting down my exit days from Bayelsa.