You know how life can be a truckload of ironies? Some small; some big.
Like when I got typhoid because I drank pure water.
Or like how my mum always talks about everything; always talks everytime and never knows how to keep a secret.
Or when this homosexual person I know told me ‘I want us to have a straight honest discussion about…’
Or when this girl named Caro won the ‘Take Home to Mama’ award in my class.
And when the only time I spray my house with Baygon is when my fiancé is coming over.
Or that time when my stammerer uncle was angry at me and said ‘Are you hearing double?’
And oh! There was this time which I’m not sure was ironic but it was awkward. A public bus I was in hit a big man’s car and then the bus driver and the boss’s driver came out and I felt it was a little awkward to ascertain who should kneel down and beg who.
And there’s this girl I know with terrible mouth odor but a tiny nose. It’s more unfair than it is ironic.
And my dad always says: If you want to stay awake while you’re reading at night, wear a pair of slippers that is smaller than your feet.
Or how I was totally in shock when I realized that Skye Bank still ran a paper-based administration. What happened to the Cloud?
Or how Zenith bank isn’t the number one bank in Nigeria?
How Ecobank is not a repository of environmentally friendly materials?
And how you still have to get sent back by those doors at Access bank.
And that time when I was passing through Oshodi and saw a crowd gather around a dead body and I decided to bring out my camera and shoot it. The body.
I don’t know… They go on. It is amazing how life is full of mysteries and yet, people say life is empty vanity.