Skinny Girl in Transit Review

Do you watch Skinny Girl in Transit? You should check out this review for Season 3.

That Akata Word.

Explaining that Akata Word.

Moving Back to Nigeria?? (The Reactions of People)

That First Kiss

I listened to my appliance, knowing I should just retire for the night because I was just going to spend the next 30 minutes getting sore from it's weak vibration. I certainly know this buzz isn't going to win against my wandering mind, before I get myself to focus enough to cum to pleasure. I wish I have new batteries... I wish I could have more simple nights like the one with Sir. 

My Sir, a Sierra Leonean boy who lord knows stole my heart. He adored me; the 16-year-old Nigerian girl who didn't know how to knit, or use a washboard, but braided his sister's hair beautifully. I adored him because he was older... all of five years older. He was an adult to me and he indulged me with the streams of inquisition I shot at him. In fact, he encouraged my curiosity, I didn't feel the burden to 'respect' him, in the way that I'd come to understand that word. 

Sir and I could have talked about anything, and in truth we tried to. He pretended to be impressed by my maturity to appease my better senses, while I tried harder to keep his impression. So when he asked if I had been kissed before I didn't look surprised, I looked insulted; I titled my face enough to look at him from the corners of my eyes and said "of course!" He smiled in the quiet way he often did, where his eyes would close entirely, as if to solely concentrate on the joy he was experiencing and without revealing his teeth, his lips would turn up his and his dimples would sink in. Then he would shake his head as if he was disagreeing with someone and I'd melt. 

 It was a bit dark in the room, the lantern was saving what visibility it could. The sofa, although looked rugged was extremely soft, so soft my buttocks sank in, taking most of my thighs in with it, my feet dangled. I was reminded of how beautiful a night it was, as the breeze swept through the opened door directly at me; through my hair and on my face,as we were sitting just opposite of the wooden door. I thought it was going to rain soon, I liked the rain in Seirre Leone, like Nigeria it was accompanied with cool, cold wind... I had been distracted. I suddenly noticed he had stopped laughing, he was relaxed on the sofa, just watching me. So I leaned back also on the sofa, a head space far, I thought that was far enough. He was older and the boy, if he wanted to kiss me, he'd have to come for my lips instead, after all that's what I read in that novel. He must have heard my thoughts, cause he leaned out again and pulled me in closer, turning my face to his gently, leaving his fingers to trail on my lips. The lantern must have been running out of kerosene because everything was dimmer now, except his eyes. My heart was beating faster now, this was nothing like I had experienced before. Suddenly his lips were on mine, my heart stopped and for a moment, my head was quiet, my mind not wandering, everything stood still. It was breathtaking... and then bam! I was filled with confusion, a hundred things running through my head, what was happening? What was... what is he doing? This wasn't how it was supposed to go, this was more than I bargained for. What was in my mouth? And what was I supposed to do with it? And now it was linked with mine? I was even more confused, so I withdrew my mouth and face from his. Just as he stared at me, just as confused. I gently asked, "Why is your tongue in my mouth? you're not doing it right!" Amused now, he stared back at me and smiled in the quiet way that he usually did, then shook his head as if he was disagreeing with someone, only this time I knew he was actually disagreeing with my statement, "it's supposed to be there, that's how you french kiss." 

  

I should have kept my mouth shut and my tongue in his I thought, as I said goodbye that night to him in shame, one that he didn't cause whatsoever. In fact he had been patient with me, he had patiently drawn me in one more time and tried to teach me what he knew about the strange kiss. He stopped as he saw how uncomfortable I was, that I hadn't made peace with having another person tongue in my mouth. You see, not everyone was patient as my Sir, not everyone I had been with was patient as my Sir. 

  

If only I had known that knowing how to kiss would be the least of my problems, that in years to come I would long for someone as patient as my Sir, that I would long for someone who knew I was being silly when I screamed wrong hole, that I would long for someone that could see that I had drifted off because my mind was more occupied with having the perfect arch, or if I had lost enough pounds to get on top and ride smooth with confidence, that my curiosity would be the foremost killer of my pleasure,  if I had known, I could have stayed a little longer with him, and relished at such simple pleasures.

  

.... I knew the vibration could not withstand my wandering mind.

Acting Audition for Through my African Eyes

Thank you for your interest in Auditioning for Through my African Eyes Web Series. 

 Information about the Web Series. 

 Through my African Eyes is a Web Series that will be aimed at  showcasing the experiences of Africans in Diaspora, set in the U.S.  It will be a story of Love, Life, Culture and Immigration of young adults in the U.S. The first season will be following the lives of three young adults and the community they have built for themselves. 

  

It will be released on YouTube in the coming months. It's important to note that this is not a paid gig. The idea of this series is to represent a story of people in Diaspora that haven't been dealt with, and combat stereotypes of Africans in the U.S.  

  

CHARACTER BIOS 

Female Characters

  

Diamond: *Closed 

  

Sylvia: 20s, Female, Light Skinned. She's a girly girl, Opinionated, Confident and most times likes to be the center of attention. She is outspoken and loves to give her advice. She is soft spoken and likes to portray her femininity when in the company of the “right” men.  

  

Ruth: 20s, Female, Can often be viewed as aggressive, funny, a free spirit, often  

She is outspoken and takes honesty to an offensive level, most times. (She says it like she means it). Extremely quiet in the company of people she don't know. In private, soft and emotionally needy.. 

Male Characters

  

King: 20s, no specific physical characteristics 

  

Lanre: Male, 20s, no specific physical characteristics 

  

Ebuka: Male,  20s, no specific physical characteristics 

  

Fai'z: Male, 20s, no specific physical characteristics  

  

Eligibility 

We are aware this audition will be the first for most people, so we've made it an online audition to make it more comfortable for you! 

Nevertheless, please have a natural ability to perform and passion to act. DETERMINATION is key!! You also have to live in NJ, NY area/or willing to travel to these areas regularly.

 Audition.  

- Choose the Character you are auditioning for, and click on the link that applies to them. 

- Record your audition using a Camera or Cell phone, it has to be audible, and clear. 

- You can have someone read the other character's line to you behind the camera, or you can skip the other character that you're not auditioning for, but make it believable. 

- Send your audition to Throughmyafricaneyes@gmail.com

For the Part of Sylvia 

  

For the Part of Ruth

For the part of ALL the Male Character

 Be Creative! and Good Luck!

GOOD PEOPLE ARE ENTITLED TO NOTHING. (Your Wahala na your own)

"I'm not going to ask you out again, maybe i'll do it once after your exam and that's it." I smiled back and started back to focusing. Focusing on not stumbling over even though I was leveled thanks to the black leather couch I was holding on to, or was it white? The straight up Hennessy was receiving an Oscar for the best closer of the night, among many other strong nominees, my bloodstream thought so.

I didn't like the music, the same nine Nigerian songs had been in rotation and I was over it. I was bored, I could tell because I was sitting, I wasn't keeping up with beat, I wasn't even humming along to the melody, I was listening to this man, with his grandiose sense of self worth.

You see, a series of events had left me in a weird place. I was searching for something... maybe a coping strategy, I wasn't quite sure what. It was odd, I'd given a considerable amount of time to finding myself, exploring the core of who I was, so why was I at this juncture? I had been shaken, like a house with it's foundation ripped. I was most of all frightened because I was unsure of what damages had been sustained. Just a mess.

Everything had changed, I had changed... 

Just like he and his grandiose sense of self worth were about to realize they were entitled to nothing, I had just realized that I was entitled nothing; there is no reward for being a good person. 

You see growing up, I was taught different. I was taught different versions of the motto: Good things always come to good people, especially those who believe in God... I was going to find other reasons to believe in God because it was simply not the truth. 'Believing' was not a gate way to the good life. Thankfully that part I realized earlier was a lie and owed gratitude to the bible for it, but the essence of who I was, was built on the foundation of the first half of that motto, Good things always come to good people, you do the right things and you'll be okay. My foundation was based on that Reward system.
I was wrong, I couldn't believe I didn't notice the blind spots of that theory till now. I was surrounded and constantly witnessing cases studies of people motivated by greed, selfishness, ignorance and more, being rewarded. I wasn't judging them, in fact I was envious and exhausted.

A good person like me, certainly didn't deserve to be sitting listening to this man tell me, I was not worth his time, but here I was, amused to an extent at his audacity... The way his voiced pierced through the loud music, how his words pounced out with such importance like they were needed to inspire a civil war, the respect he accorded to his low ball glass as he sipped the content of it through and through, as he screamed at me, "I'm not going to ask you out again, maybe i'll do it once after your exams and that's it."... I admired his arrogance. He was ignorant to my new findings, how else did he think he deserved my time, even though I had turned his advances down time and time again, how else did he think it was okay to talk to someone the way he just did to me, so I rewarded him. I played God cause God knows I needed to feel like I had some sort of control in my life. So here I was, I let him finish without throwing a drink to his face.

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Shit! I am going to let him know it's not okay to treat me like shit! 40 minutes waiting, and he thought the correct response to his horrible service was, "I'm not going to release your ID and Credit card to you till you fix your attitude?" I was a paying customer, paying customer for an overpriced drink.... couple of drinks, I was entitled to better service! Why was he so rude? I wondered. Weeks later from dealing with the Mr. and his grandiose sense of self worth, I was still struggling and angry, and now this? Abeg if they sent him to me, let him go tell them he found me. I pulled out my phone to call the police, as I played out every scenario of calling them, all ending with me looking idiotic, and ruining everyone's fun night but especially his. I couldn't see him from the bar where I was waiting, but he was here and my heart was giving my brain a run for it's money. Oh hell, I wasn't in love, but curiosity had always been my downfall, not love and he had the first.

Bartender finally brought my card and ID to my friend, who thought it was better if she handled the situation. She could see I was about to lose it, only he wasn't handled. I stared at the receipt and items he had just shoved back and I was livid, fuck him I thought, fuck him! "Go fuck yourself," I blurted out... I played God cause God knows I needed to feel like I had some sort of control... I got kicked out.

I stood outside, shaded while I watched the droplet of rain fall to the ground, I could still hear the music from the club as I thought to myself, how draining being angry was. I'd been so good to him, but it wasn't enough. I decided I was not going to do anything at the expense of my happiness, whether motivated by good or bad, not if I could help it. I didn't delude myself to think I had reached a resolution to getting myself back to me, but for tonight it was going to be enough because I was really tired of being sad. I was not going to wait for my reward, I was going to create it for myself.

For tonight, he'll my reward, my curiosity was going to be quenched. I took out my phone and typed, "Hey... I need you, what do you say... you take me home... to your home *insert straight face smiley*"
Send.
I sent it before I had the chance to delete it...

2:14 am, 2:15 am, 2:16 am, 2:17 am ...
Shit! I really shouldn't have sent that!

Chronicles Of a International Nigerian Student (Part 3) The Audacity

Here I was looking stupid, trying not to make eye contact with this very cute, short guy, which was hard, very hard, since we were the only ones in the room. I was sitting down in a class, at my school, waiting for the African Student Association meeting to begin, which couldn't, because the very important members of this so called meeting, were yet to arrive. The ASA meeting started at 3:15 p.m, and I painfully arrived early at 3:30 p.m. walking as fast as I could, I met an empty classroom, except for the cute, short guy standing at the door. I let out what could pass for a murmur,

Here I was looking stupid, trying not to make eye contact with this very cute, short guy, which was hard, very hard, since we were the only ones in the room. I was sitting down in a class, at my school, waiting for the African Student Association meeting to begin, which couldn't, because the very important members of this so called meeting, were yet to arrive. The ASA meeting started at 3:15 p.m, and I painfully arrived early at 3:30 p.m. walking as fast as I could, I met an empty classroom, except for the cute, short guy standing at the door. I let out what could pass for a murmur,
"Is this the room for the ASA meeting?"
 "Yes it is," he smiled.