Nonny
Hmmn. The first thing you notice about Nonny is the way she is surrounded by an uncanny aura of peace. How she fakes it, only God knows. Ah mean, you would think this girl was a saint. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that she comes with a million dollar smile, is very affable and has an extraordinary ability to listen. I hear she got tired of listening to T2 who we
will come to in a minute. Nonny should have been Bri’ish through and through (as in never lived any significant part of her life in Nigeria) but she had the ‘good fortune’ of meeting Jay, T1, T2 and some more of us, consequently Nonny is now more Nigerian than of us put together. (As an aside, I hear my Uni had a recruitment stand at Murtala Mo’mmed).
Nonny and I go back a long way, High school as a matter of fact. Under standard temperature and pressure the girl is sensible; however she does have a mad streak that gives no warning before it seeps out. Ah mean, she left me traumatized at age 17 when she put her finger up my nostril! (Gross? I concur.) Her mad streak also comes out on the dancefloor, this girl can mooove. Yep, if it got a tune then Nonny is bussing a move.
Nonny can be very odd too. She does strange things like not picking up her phone during the week altho’ she’d happily tell you of the conversations she’s had with her numerous admirers which always happen to be during the week. She was also obsessed with her hair at one point but she has calmed a little now. A few years back, Nonny would stand in front of the mirror for an hour at a time at the least and she’d lovingly caress her hair, brush it every which way, and then stroke it, then ruffle it, flick it, straighten it and then start the process all over again. I used to fear for her mental health then…
But now that I think about it, Nonny is reasonably normal, she’s the one everyone goes to when they need a shoulder to cry on, she’s the patient and the kind one who does her best not hurt anyone’s feelings, she gives good advice and she can be quite entertaining. She’s also my party buddy, my travel buddy, my moan-about-life buddy, my feel-good buddy, my dancing buddy. In fact, Nonny’s cool.
T2
T2 is the crunch, the climax, the crescendo, the eruption, you name it and you can call her it. I haven’t given her these names because she’s the closest to me, oh no! T2 is simply drama queen extraordinaire. She has flair for bringin’ the drama on. Normal people walk to the chip shop and back with no incidents. T2 walks to the chip shop, gets bitten by a Chihuahua, falls into the arms of a handsome Nigerian doctor who irritates the livin’ daylights out of her, slaps him, then finally gets to the chip shop where she collapses! Then wakes up screaming ‘somebody call the ambulance’. Okay so I exaggerate a little but T2, she’s such drama; time simply speeds by when you are around her.
In our UNIX days, T2 had three names (read alter egos), T2, Samantha and Ngozi. Ngozi’s the Nigerian version of T2, the (famous) Lagos girls school’s product. Ngozi has a Nigerian accent and is often found with her a sharp object in her dishevelled brown tinted hair, scratching furiously and uttering orgasmic sounds (I kid you not). Other typical traits include unbuckling her trouser before or during a meal, scheming whilst chewing an empty mouth nosily and asking questions and answering them herself. Matter of fact, a typical convo with Ngozi goes like this:
Hmmn. The first thing you notice about Nonny is the way she is surrounded by an uncanny aura of peace. How she fakes it, only God knows. Ah mean, you would think this girl was a saint. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that she comes with a million dollar smile, is very affable and has an extraordinary ability to listen. I hear she got tired of listening to T2 who we
will come to in a minute. Nonny should have been Bri’ish through and through (as in never lived any significant part of her life in Nigeria) but she had the ‘good fortune’ of meeting Jay, T1, T2 and some more of us, consequently Nonny is now more Nigerian than of us put together. (As an aside, I hear my Uni had a recruitment stand at Murtala Mo’mmed).Nonny and I go back a long way, High school as a matter of fact. Under standard temperature and pressure the girl is sensible; however she does have a mad streak that gives no warning before it seeps out. Ah mean, she left me traumatized at age 17 when she put her finger up my nostril! (Gross? I concur.) Her mad streak also comes out on the dancefloor, this girl can mooove. Yep, if it got a tune then Nonny is bussing a move.
Nonny can be very odd too. She does strange things like not picking up her phone during the week altho’ she’d happily tell you of the conversations she’s had with her numerous admirers which always happen to be during the week. She was also obsessed with her hair at one point but she has calmed a little now. A few years back, Nonny would stand in front of the mirror for an hour at a time at the least and she’d lovingly caress her hair, brush it every which way, and then stroke it, then ruffle it, flick it, straighten it and then start the process all over again. I used to fear for her mental health then…
But now that I think about it, Nonny is reasonably normal, she’s the one everyone goes to when they need a shoulder to cry on, she’s the patient and the kind one who does her best not hurt anyone’s feelings, she gives good advice and she can be quite entertaining. She’s also my party buddy, my travel buddy, my moan-about-life buddy, my feel-good buddy, my dancing buddy. In fact, Nonny’s cool.
T2
T2 is the crunch, the climax, the crescendo, the eruption, you name it and you can call her it. I haven’t given her these names because she’s the closest to me, oh no! T2 is simply drama queen extraordinaire. She has flair for bringin’ the drama on. Normal people walk to the chip shop and back with no incidents. T2 walks to the chip shop, gets bitten by a Chihuahua, falls into the arms of a handsome Nigerian doctor who irritates the livin’ daylights out of her, slaps him, then finally gets to the chip shop where she collapses! Then wakes up screaming ‘somebody call the ambulance’. Okay so I exaggerate a little but T2, she’s such drama; time simply speeds by when you are around her.

In our UNIX days, T2 had three names (read alter egos), T2, Samantha and Ngozi. Ngozi’s the Nigerian version of T2, the (famous) Lagos girls school’s product. Ngozi has a Nigerian accent and is often found with her a sharp object in her dishevelled brown tinted hair, scratching furiously and uttering orgasmic sounds (I kid you not). Other typical traits include unbuckling her trouser before or during a meal, scheming whilst chewing an empty mouth nosily and asking questions and answering them herself. Matter of fact, a typical convo with Ngozi goes like this:
Read Ngozi with the Lagos girl accent.
Ngozi: Coral, I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?
Coral: N…
Ngozi: I mean all I asked him to do was go from London to Birmingham (some 3hrs journey) and get me some chinese
Coral: Yeah, but…
Ngozi: I mean, that’s his problem if he got lost?
Coral: T2,…
Ngozi:That’s his business oh! In fact he shouldn’t call me anymore!
Coral: Oka…
Ngozi: After I didn’t do anything wrong. Or did I? I didn’t!
Coral: wry smile
Yep! That’s Ngozi right there. Samantha on the other hand is T2’s English counterpart. Samantha is very articulate with a fully fledged english accent. Samantha is the public face of T2 and she has a dress sense to kill… with heels to go with that sef. Yes oh. Occasionally Ngozi and Samantha interact cumulating into T2. In UNIX days T2 liked nothing better than charging full steam at an exasperated Nonny especially when we were meant to be revising for exam. I think it gave her some odd sense of relief. As you’d expect, Nonny’ bedroom was always in a state after those oestrogen driven moments whilst a calmed and sedate T2 sashayed home.
T2’s also the one who keeps me up till the wee hours of the morning…with marathon gists or lack of. Oh yes. I think that God called me to play a listening role with her perhaps in preparation for marriage, or people management or just life in general. So I have accepted it with as much grace as I can. T2 loves people but oddly enough she doesn’t like people, of course, this is a feat that only she can manage. T2 is rarely angry …rarely and in the same manner one can rarely be angered by her. T2 would read this and call me pretending to be angry but secretly she’d be flattered. She’d say something like ‘Coral, it’s not your fault! Is it your fault? Its noootttt!’ after which she’d proceed to update me on whatever havoc she has wrecked on her unsuspecting (and very patient) manager or colleague or sibling or friend. I could go on about T2 from now till forever and if I wanted to tell you more, Beta blogger would crash. So let’s move on…
TBC
Ngozi: Coral, I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?
Coral: N…
Ngozi: I mean all I asked him to do was go from London to Birmingham (some 3hrs journey) and get me some chinese
Coral: Yeah, but…
Ngozi: I mean, that’s his problem if he got lost?
Coral: T2,…
Ngozi:That’s his business oh! In fact he shouldn’t call me anymore!
Coral: Oka…
Ngozi: After I didn’t do anything wrong. Or did I? I didn’t!
Coral: wry smile
Yep! That’s Ngozi right there. Samantha on the other hand is T2’s English counterpart. Samantha is very articulate with a fully fledged english accent. Samantha is the public face of T2 and she has a dress sense to kill… with heels to go with that sef. Yes oh. Occasionally Ngozi and Samantha interact cumulating into T2. In UNIX days T2 liked nothing better than charging full steam at an exasperated Nonny especially when we were meant to be revising for exam. I think it gave her some odd sense of relief. As you’d expect, Nonny’ bedroom was always in a state after those oestrogen driven moments whilst a calmed and sedate T2 sashayed home.
T2’s also the one who keeps me up till the wee hours of the morning…with marathon gists or lack of. Oh yes. I think that God called me to play a listening role with her perhaps in preparation for marriage, or people management or just life in general. So I have accepted it with as much grace as I can. T2 loves people but oddly enough she doesn’t like people, of course, this is a feat that only she can manage. T2 is rarely angry …rarely and in the same manner one can rarely be angered by her. T2 would read this and call me pretending to be angry but secretly she’d be flattered. She’d say something like ‘Coral, it’s not your fault! Is it your fault? Its noootttt!’ after which she’d proceed to update me on whatever havoc she has wrecked on her unsuspecting (and very patient) manager or colleague or sibling or friend. I could go on about T2 from now till forever and if I wanted to tell you more, Beta blogger would crash. So let’s move on…
TBC
3 comments:
I am soooo...T2!! That's my girl right there, right up my alley!
Lol. Desola, you don't need to tell us that, ahn ahn. Its glaringly obvious you are a bit of a DIVA.
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