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Today is sorta like a big deal for me. It is gonna go down in history as the most embarrassing day of my life. Venue: Oshodi. Incase u didn’t hear me well, I said OSHODI.
This morning, I woke up feeling fly, picked out my outfit and went about my business. I wore Ankara pants, a net blouse( which I can proudly say I made myself) Yes I be designer in training, wore a spaghetti top and a black strapless la senza bra (see me giving u details o, well you need to know trust me) then I wore white lace panties (sorry I don’t co-ordinate pant and bra, who get time?).
Well in the afternoon, I got into an Oshodi bound bus and I felt my bum was making direct contact with the bus seat. I calmly put my hand to check and yes u guessed right, sokoto had ripped exposing my white pant. The bus was scanty so I had the entire back row to myself. I started thinking “What would Jesus do?” I kid. I was petrified. I was like “in broad daylight?” Is this how my bride price will just go like that? So I decided to improvise. I unhinged my spaghetti top (yes unhinged, I can’t find another oyinbo jare) I dragged it down to cover my ass (excuse my french) and I had only the strapless bra on under the net top. I looked down at my mammaries, I looked like a glorified obesere dancer(you dunno obesere omo rapala? Google him). Bus conductor started salivating and almost hyper ventilating (YES at the sight of my mammaries, I say SO), he kept sending his condolences on my torn trouser and smiling sheepishly. Suddenly he asked if I was on bbm, I swear if I was near d door of d bus, I woulda fallen off at high speed out of shock. I smiled back sweetly and said NO. He said what of Facebook? Twitter? I said NO again. Yes he is the conductor, I handed him my bus fare so I should know. He took a last chance and asked for my phone number, I replied WHY? And he couldn’t for the life of him, come up with an answer, so he got no digit. *shrugs*
The plan was that when I alighted at oshodi, I buy a pashmina, wrap it around my waist and wear my spaghetti back. Simple abi? (WRONG). For starters, it seemed like the “god” of pashmina was on leave, I kept walking and walking about oshodi half naked with no scarf in sight.
You need to see lecherous men starring at me. Soundtrack in my head was Wizkid and Kcee’s Pullover. Who would blame them na, shebi na me decide to flash all of Oshodi my bobby. Trust yoruba women, throwing me bad eye, some blatantly asked why I was shamelessly dressed. I calmly explained my situation and they pointed me in the direction to get a pashmina.
After checking several places, I finally saw a woman who claimed to have but she said it was a thousand naira. I went “Whaaaaaatttt” you gotta be ****ing me (insert swear word here). A woman like me wants to take advantage of my situation by inflating the price of a bloody scarf? I let her know my disappointment. Kia Kia she said Oya bring 300 naira. I waited in her stall and she went to get it, trust lecherous area boys, milling around getting a eyeful of my precious breasts. E pain me oh. But that didn’t last long sha as the woman returned with a black pashmina that I tied round my waist, paid and Voila, I was decent again even tho I looked like a hippie with a scarf round my yansh.
Lesson learnt: Never leave home without a scarf.
And like my friend Bunmi said, get over it, these people won’t even recognise you tomorrow. I have taken that advice and decided to chuck it up to “one of those things”
And that was another day in the life of this Fabulous Osi Princess. Thanks for stopping by. Olayimika Bamidele reporting for Sumptuous TV.
Ciaooooooo

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