Good day everyone. I must first of all thank all my well wishers for my birthday celebration over the weekend and onto Monday. The party was a success, except mi nearly beat off one gal whey ah try look mi husband inna mi face. Dem African gal yah brazeen ei si. Well de beating did not happen as people begged me and told me that she was drunk. She escape a Jamaican beat down!
I am so serious and not at all joking. The party was in full swing the (fool, fool, dingbat DJ, ah me did affi send tell him fi pick up de mike an tell mi happy birthday) was playing his African music which the people all loved. It had a catchy tune to it but to me it sounded like a bag ah noise. I guess me being Jamaican just missed my dance hall skin out music or the culture “hold a vibes” kind.
I gave the DJ my cd’s, the people (some big chiefs) called my husband to the side and told him they wanted to hear African music. Well I am the celebrant and we invited them so we gave them what they wanted. I collected my Cd’s and brought them back inside slightly indignant. How dare they reject Shabba and ting ah ling ah ling, and Buju’s Browning, which I was planning to get whey pon!
I quickly recovered however when I went back out side and saw all the people dancing (except the big chiefs who demanded African music—fi wha? an dem nah even dance, just ah nyam up de big food fi mek de belly bigga!), somebody pulled me out and began dancing with me, well as a Jamaican I am quite versatile so I danced to their music, I quickly ketch de rhythm and danced with them all for a while, the crowd cheered me on and I got a little shy from all of the attention and danced my way back to my table, slightly embarrassed.
The liquor was being passed from table to table and everyone seemed happy, all pickney mi spot ah hide an ah drink. My husband is great at keeping parties and festivals, and so he mingled with everyone, never once sitting down, he was busy all over, meeting and greeting (de sketel dem watching him and me ah watch dem lol).
The Chiefs came with some sketel looking girls (looking like street walkers), I guess Lagos hot girls, mi nuh si de hotness,is a set ah Butu mi si, but I digress. I could tell that these girl were on the look out for anything with a #naira sign or even better a $sign, well mi husband had de $sign and it was of course me. I am what Nigerians call OYINBO, loosely translated as a white person (aldoe mi nuh white) or better yet a foreigner. White, regardless of your color, because they say we have developed the white man’s mentality while living abroad.
The music was pumping, people were dancing, eating and enjoying. The fun was much, the food was plenty, we all had fun and we celebrated up to around three o’clock when people began to leave. My little daughter looked beautiful in her newly made outfit and I dare say I myself looked quite fetching in my outfits all three of them since I changed that many times.
He ordered cake from a place called Tantalizer, it was the prettiest cake I have ever seen and the worse tasting caking I ever tasted. I tasted the cake, spat it out dramatically and screamed Lawd God for about one hour, my daughter and I in unplanned unison!
Luciano Pavarotti would have been jealous of the high tenor my daughter and I went up in, with our shouts of “Lawd God” after tasting de taste bad cake, and Christians would clutch their pearls at us taking the Lord’s name in vain and for so long!
The place the cake was bought from, Tantalizer, was in Festac I think or was it Okota here in Lagos? I am not sure nevertheless it was very far from us or I would have gone there the next day and created a scene!
The Baker needs to be drawn and quartered, or beaten with tamarind switch, even tried in a court of law and sentenced for traumatizing us with such a bad tasting cake, what ah cake taste bad. Taste bad? What de hell am I saying? It had no taste, it tasted like cardboard, no sugar, not one drop, no vanilla, or anything to make a cake taste nice, nutten! Sass Crissee!!!!!
All week Cher, a blogger have been sending me pictures of birthday cakes, I guess her spirit knew of what I was to encounter, and so it tried to prepare me, or that was a message, Lawd God, de nasty cake!!!…Thank you Cher!
After recovering from the cake and its bad taste, we finished the evening and I must say, minus de cake and de whoring gal, I enjoyed myself. Thank you my family here on ESP.
Love and Light