The Reading Challenge: March/April Review

Happy end of the month, guys! 

For some reason I sometimes feel like I have nothing to say. I don't know, maybe my life is not just as exciting as I'd  like due to limited funds or my overestimation of how exciting I am as a person in  my head .vs. Reality is just uneven. I don't know ....What I do know however is that I  have looked at some bloggers coming out with 5-6 posts a week and I just  look at my one or two post every few months and after a while, I start to think, "Mena, is there any point to it?, Does anyone even read this stuff?.... But I shall not shy because even if it's one or two, it's a GOOD one or two. Right?!

 Coming into a new year, I made some intentional but not so resolution-y resolutions. Most of which I've stuck to [Reading and Fitfam]; some that still need to be worked, and others that'll require my efforts and Baba'nla picking up my call.

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This month I read The secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives by Lola Shoneyin. I picked this book because I thought the title a little interesting. I read a lot of reviews saying it was a story carrying quite a punch, so I thought, “Why not?”

The secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives  is a story about a graduate who marries into a polygamous home as a fourth wife to a rich, rotund and patriarchal man called Baba Segi, causing dismay for her ambitious mother. This however is the least of Bolanle's worries as she is not just walking into any house but to a clamorous one  that is full of character. A pack of three wolves, sorry, wives and seven children. Although a graduate and seen as a great prize to her husband, she is not exempt from his rotational midnight lashings that lack foreplay and warmth because to Baba Segi even graduates must produce children and his persistent bellyache for his seed to be planted is a sign that things are not as they should be. 

In this book, Bolanle is  a mysterious key that opens many doors and unravels umpteen truths. Weaving  the voices of Baba Segi, his three wives and their children and some other minor characters into  the storyline. Each of their memoirs unravel a flavoursome chain of events of how they become connected to Baba Segi, and end up wives and mother's to his  children, as well as their struggles for survival within a polygamous home.

This book is quite memorable because of it's  attempt to expose the trials that may be faced in polygamous homes, not just in Nigeria but as a consensus.  Bolanle did not use the common response to life’s unfairness such as: succumbing to  "Desperation" or " Spite" to make things happen for her or to her mother's "I told you so" attitude when divulging her trials in her matrimonial home. Despite her circumstances she did not tiptoe around life unfairness or the senselessness of pain hurled at her especially  by her  past, her husband, co-wives and her family members but with good faith held her head high and saw it through till the end.

Would I recommend this book to someone else?  Most definitely. Would we have the same experiences reading it? Probably not. 

Ratings: 4.5/5 

Because apparently, there's always room for improvement. 

Books I've read in past months:

The Thing around your neck- Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie 

Purple Hibiscus - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie 

The Accidental Apprentice - Vikas Swarup

                                                                               XOXO

                                                                               Mena 

                                                                                       

STORY TIME!: I FELL IN A GUTTER FULL TO THE BRIM WITH GREEN ALGAE[DUCKWEED]

On this faithful day, there was nothing anyone could have said to me that would have put me off my rainbow of happiness... Why? Because I was going to get my hair[weave] done and slay to the magnificent heavens, and no one could tell me nothing.

Back in my early days, getting my hair done was a bit of a ceremony, I didn't mind having to sit long hours to get the job done, as long as I had my trustee mirror in my right hand inspecting every needle or braid work, and in times where I wasn't quick enough to grab a mirror, or because Mama Suru didn't appreciate me looking at my hair when she did it whilst thrusting my head in between her thighs at times [My nostrils have been through a lot all for the sake of vanity], I would lie I needed to use the toilet just so I could pass a mirror on my way back to inspect it, and of course admire myself. I was always highly amused by my own face, to the extent that my mother and  siblings would always tease me about it, but what could a girl do? It wasn't my fault that God Almighty took his time to make such a beautiful being. I knew it! I was beautiful [Still am] and secure in my looks, maybe a bit too over-secure sometimes, but hey! old things are past away, I know I'm more than just my looks. 

The day came when my older cousin who was living with us at the time would take I and my immediate senior sister to the hair salon just behind our estate in Ogba, Lagos. We did all the morning senrenren and went to the salon, I was way too excited. Sat there for a couple of hours getting  what was the in vogue hairstyle - The Razor Cut , I will never forget.

All done now, and momentarily blinded by the  amazing work of the hairdresser, I was feeling myself, and one one could tell me nothing. We began our journey back home, and I had pins of excitement in my body, I was skipping in the hot sun, flicking my hair and of course paying little attention to the walk way that leads to our house. We came past the gate, and into the back of the estate.They're walking, and  I'm skipping [pepper-body was worrying me] to go and show my mother my amazing  hair-do, and before I knew it... GBAM!

"I FELL IN A GUTTER FULL TO THE BRIM WITH GREEN ALGAE- [DUCKWEED]"

It all happened so fast, the lights suddenly came on, and I was blinking  chunks of  green algae [duckweed]. From my newly sewn razor cut bob to the toes of my feet, i was drenched, and my knee was bruised. That was how my yanga turned sour. My sister and cousin couldn't hold it in, they laughed hard to their heart's content before my older cousin helped pull me out and lead me home with all that green stuff all over me. Mind you my house was still a long distance away so I had to  bear the odd looks from people in the estate whom I  walked by whilst crying in pain and shame equally. I eventually got home and my mother would not let me step as much as a toenail inside the house. The greater embarrassment came when my mother proceeded to bathe me outside in broad daylight, BROAD DAYLIGHT!

She stripped me naked by the side of the house, not caring who was watching, and she scrubbed me down. 

Thank God, I wasn't even developed yet, but still shame caught me bad!

If you're wondering if that taught me anything, No!.  I still went about "feeling myself", but this time with a bit more common sense and  with my eyes on the road. 

Have you ever experienced a case of when  yanga turned sour?

                                                                                                             XOXO

                                                                                                             Mena