What has been your most embarrassing moment ever? Have you ever had any cringe-worthy moment where you hoped that the ground would just swallow you up?
I racked my brain, and I don’t seem to have or recall any. Am I weird? Not like I am the king of cool or anything, but I prefer to not get caught up in the rain. I find that I have been more embarrassed for people whose actions or inactions have put them into the circle of shame.
For example, I remember back in university, on the first day of school after summer. Everyone was looking well turned out in the freshest gear. Whether they were rocking England’s high street couture, Yaba bend-down or Ross/Marshall chic, everyone brought their A-game. I and a few of my pals were chilling by the bottom of the faculty stairs, feeling cool with ourselves in our knock-off Raybans (ours were actually ‘Raymans’ – which we had bought in traffic on Eko Bridge). A group of about 4 girls started coming down the stairs. They were in really tight skirts and killer heels.
One of them then tripped over on the stairs, as she miscued while checking one of my posse of friends out. Her books went up into the air like those Yankee high school graduation scenes. Her forms scattered all over the place, and she tumbled down the stairs. She ‘planked’ on the dirty, hard floor.
A few people there, including her friends started laughing and covering their mouths. Me, I was more embarrassed for her. I wanted to help her up, but I let her friends do it instead. You know when a toddler trips and falls down and you shout ‘Chei!’ and try to help it up, but it usually makes it cry even more. Home-girl was more embarrassed than hurt, and didn’t know where to look as everyone (including player-haters) gathered saying ‘Sorry o; did you wound yourself?”
I couldn’t even look at her myself. I felt her pain and embarrassment too. Well, I told you that she was wearing ‘killer heels.”
Is it not weird that there is someone who know who always catches you wearing the same outfit anytime they see you despite the unfortunate fact that you do not even wear that outfit often at all. I bought a nice T-shirt with a Che Guevara imprint on it, done in a really fly Andy Warhol art style. I wore that tee to The Palms Mall with my Air Jordans trainers, and a really rugged pair of jeans with stains and tears on it. I ran into a friend of mine Kola and his girlfriend Sara. “Nice one” he said, referring to my tee.
A week and a half later, I dashed to the barbers at Ikota Shopping Complex. I hadn’t taken a shower yet, so I just grabbed that tee since it hadn’t been laundered. Guess who I ran into in the parking lot after I had shaved – Kola and his air-brushed, Colombian-weaved, missus. He looked at the tee, wanted to say something, but swallowed his tongue. No need to compliment it twice now, huh? No homo.
Two good months later, I stopped by a house-warming somewhere in Ajah, on my way back from Surulere, and Kola was there. His girl Sara raised her eyebrows at me (like The Rock) when she saw me in that Tee. Kola then remarked ‘Dis your shirt done become “One Nation.”
I replied dryly “Yeah, birthday suit part 2”
What is it with some Naija people sef?
Do you guys remember that “Masters English” textbook or something of that nature; I am not sure whether that is really the name. It was for secondary school students, and had 6 different parts for the 6 forms in schools. Who can remember a story in chapter one of that textbook which was folklore about why babies are not able to speak at birth? Apparently, eons ago, babies were able to talk from birth. But they were tactless because they didn’t know when to shut their gobs or express their opinions much to the chagrin and embarrassment of their parents/guardians. Reminds me of some people on facebook/twitter.
The straw which broke the camel’s back was when a baby advised his uncle who had just come in from the farm to go and take a shower as he stunk like a soak-away pit. That’s a bit rich coming from a tot who poos on itself and can’t even change its own diapers. The sensitive uncle was not impressed and complained to “the gods” who then boiled yam (in folklore heaven o), cut a huge slice and jammed it down every baby’s throat from then on out. So apparently that is why babies cannot speak/misyarn at birth, but rather spew some whitish substance from their mouths instead. Oh and this whitish substance has nothing to do with residue from breast milk, colostrum, Similac or ogi (akamu). Abeg jor.
Anyway, this yam business, as ridiculous as it sounds, was not a bad idea (not that I believe it or anything). Some people learn to misyarn from childhood, and some people’s kids can put them to shame with ridiculous observations.
Mummy, mummy I saw daddy and Ekaete wrestling on the bed.
Some kids choose to embarrass their folks when visitors are around. There are those ‘longer-throat’ ones who stand akimbo, looking at guests with begging eyes when drinks and food are served to guests. Normally the child’s mum would have an eye signal to warn the child to leave the sitting room and stop hanging around. Some kids ignore the sign; some even voice out in anger: mummy, why are you winking at me?
Why do kids start moping at the guests like they have never seen food before.
But it isn’t just about food. I recall a time, I and my mother went to see some family friends The Okonjis. They had a seven year old by the name of Darlington (I hate the name too). He was no darling though, the cheeky bugger.
We were all seated in their living room. Mr. Okonji was boasting about his latest financial conquest, when a huge cockroach strolled majestically from one corner of the room and was walking, in fact strolling past the middle of the living room.
The way this insect strolled, you could see it was very much at home in that house. You know when roaches start moving their antennas about? And this was in broad daylight.
I was embarrassed for them. My mum too saw it and buried her eyes in their photo-album, like she hadn’t seen a thing (haha, boring wedding photos from the 70s). Mrs Okonji almost turned red with annoyance but acted like she had not seen it. Mr. Okonji continued his speech, while silently praying that the roach would do its thing quickly, finish its tour and leave in peace (if not in pieces). I made a mental note not to take another sip of the refreshment served, and also to reject anything from their kitchen.
There was moment of brief awkward silence, as the roach stopped suddenly, as it saw a tiny morsel of food on the floor. The nasty bug retraced its steps like a human being would do if he noticed a special dish on a buffet table. This roach had swag.
Then the couple’s kid Darlington then exclaimed in bewilderment as he pointed at the roach, and broke out in song: “ The roach, the roach, the roach is on the floor. We don’t need any Baygon; let that cockroach crawl. Crawl, crawl, crawl….”
Mrs. Okonji almost fainted “Darlington would you shut up and go to your room and do your homework. Ekanem! Ekanem!! Please bring a broom and come and kill this cockroach.”
Turning to us, she apologized “Our neigbours are filthy people. They have a huge roach problem…”
The above examples have nothing on this Shan George jam below here. Peep the way she keeps repeating “baby” from 3.02 minutes. A national embarrassment, if I ever saw one.