The thing is, when i write exams, everything else goes static, every other sound is quieted, every other movement is halted. Call it a weakness, and I might understand. Call it an excuse for my silence so far, and I’ll jump right in your face and deny it. Yes. Even though I know it’s the truth.
You know, so much has happened between then and now (then being the last time we talked): the Chibok girls, ‘there iz God o’ handbands and teeshirts, final exams, dinners, OAU protests for school fees reduction, absolute power seizure by the boss himself- Omole, the famous water hunt, arduously conjured up reports, project defense preps, CMC and the list is endless. I’d like to give a piece of my mind on several of these issues, but then I’ll pass, seeing that there is so much online presence hovering over them already. Besides, I like to think that we all know what is right from what is wrong, and when the wrong continually prevails, it’s time to look inwards and make better choices. 2015 is another year. I no go talk anything pass this one. Sue me!
Right now, in the midst of all the thick angry clouds looming over us, threatening to unleash a legion of watery stripes if we dare not appease it, all I can think of is TAILORS!
*OK,is she crazy now or what?*
I need to get this straight. Why are tailors so freaking annoying most of the freaking time? *pls tell me i didn’t just use freaking twice in a sentence.*
When a tailor tells you to come in one week, take my advice and go in three. The first week, leave it to them to just get familiar with the color of your clothe. The second week, they should probably get accustomed to the texture of the fabric. Then on the third, they might now start devising a plan on how to sew/mend your clothe, which, as we all know, they will begin to work on as soon as you get there to get it. Sound familiar?
I have no beefs with this certain profession, or trade as some might like to call it. In fact, I’m of the opinion that life would really suck without tailors, fashion designers and other handcraft workers. You know how it is that its the way you look that you’re defined as a human being, and it’s the way you’re dressed that you are addressed. How then can we be without these guys? Dude you just gotta love ’em!
But guys, when you say you’ll come by four, come by four. Don’t cook us up a stew of lies on how your mom’s grandfather’s highschool friend died over the weekend and you had to be there mourning the departed. Don’t lie to us about how you’ve tried our phone numbers to no avail to tell us of a certain change in plans when we both know you totally forgot about us and our clothes the moment we left. Don’t complicate our lives by giving us unwarranted excuses about how tedious it was to make a clothe like ours. Don’t misplace our clothes and then talk in hushed tones when we get there as if you just realized you can’t find them- we both know you knew this long before we came. And please, don’t make us clothes in which we would get lost and will not be found. We gave you our measurements for heaven’s sake, use it. Forget the excess allowances that automatically convert us to aged nuns in our prime.
Thanks alot, Tailors. I speak for the world right now, and you bet I’m downright furious with you all.