My First UK Shopping Experience

I joined mum in the UK in 1992 when I was 14.
My JAMB score had been too low to secure a university admission.
Mum gave me £300 to get a new wardrobe and winter clothing, it was a lot of money then..
She asked a friend if her 'fashionable daughter' could take me to the shops.
’Miss Fashionable: (MF)’ arrived looking smashing: nice clothes, knee-length boots….
Mum gave her some 'transport money' and told her to help maximize my £300 shopping money.
She sounded like ‘oyibo’ to my bush self and when I tried to speak my own oyibo too, she said I sounded like an Indian and asked if I attended an Indian school back home?
That was quite embarrassing and I felt hurt afterall, I had an A1 in English Language so I shut my mouth.
We took the bus 73, then a routemaster, to Oxford Circus.

MF: (as we entered House of Fraser) I do most of my shopping here.
I thought wow! and I was eager to start shopping.
I almost tripped on the elevator as I looked at the splendor around me.
We finally arrived at the clothing section after some meandering.
MF: This is their winter range. Oh this jacket looks lovely! (It's a black leather looking jacket) And it's so cheap, just £300….....How much do you have again?
Me: £300
MF: Why not take this jacket, it’s on sale.
Me: But that's all the money I have for a new wardrobe
MF: (hiss) This jacket is top quality, designer made. It's unique and it'll last you for years!!! It is a very good buy!
Me: I'm also hoping I can buy boots and some turtle-neck sweaters.
MF: What??!!
I repeated myself.
MF: Can you talk slowly. I can't understand you
I repeated myself yet again, feeling deeply humiliated.
MF: Oh! Okay. Look around and let me know if there's anything u want.
Me: Is this where you bought your jacket?
MF: Hell no! I bought this one in Harrods.
Me: Can we go there?
MF: Trust me, it’s nowhere near £300

Eventually, I chose a navy blue knee length wool top-coat that wasn't all that.
It cost me £185 and it was hideous!
At Topshop, I bought a pair of knee-length, patent skin, stiletto-heeled boots for £65 and a pair of blue corduroy bottoms for £25
At Selfridges, I bought a dirty, blue turtle-neck sweater on clearance sale for £24.
I despised mum for humiliating me with her miserly £300.
On getting home, mum looked at my shopping and asked MF: House of Fraser? Selfridges? With £300?

MF said she had to hurry but mum insisted she stayed while we went through my shopping and did she yell when she saw my ‘lavish spending’
MF insisted I had selected everything myself and the shops were on sale.
MF’s ‘oyibo’ accent had suddenly disappeared.
Mum asked for my receipts and I told her MF had said we didn’t need them so we didn’t have any and couldn't return the goods.
Mum was F-U-R-I-O-U-S!
She called MF’s Mum on speaker phone.

Mum: My friend, I didn’t even ask where your daughter does her shopping
MF’s Mum: MF ke, you know she works with charity. She knows all the second-hand markets and charity shops in this London and she can bargain well well but I told her to ask your daughter if she doesn’t mind 2^nd hand first……..
Mum: Ehn, ehn. What of Selfridges et al?
MF’s Mum: Nooooo. All those charity shops sell designers oh, maybe just secondhand but they sell correct designers that sisi(s) {young gals} like.

Mum proceeded to report her daughter to her.
The woman was gobsmacked and apologized profusely.
MF was shedding crocodile tears and begging mum on her knees in Yoruba.
Mum said she had asked her to go with me so she could help me pick the things in vogue and she should have let her know that it wasn’t convenient.
Mum, MF and I went back to Oxford Street but there wasn’t much we could do as we didn’t have any receipts.
The sales assistants even helped check the bins behind the counter for the receipts but we didn't find anything.

MF & her mum came over the next day, apologizing yet again.
MF’s Mum explained MF was probably trying to show off and that she didn’t mean any harm.
She gave me €100.
Mum took a day off work to show me around Haringey: Florentyna Village, Wood Green, Green Lanes and u shoulda seen what I bought with 100quid.

MF, her sister and I became really close (3 Musketeers) and we laugh every time we remember how MF posed and made me waste my mum's precious money.
I was on MF's bridal train when she got married in 2003 and her first daughter bears my English name.
So be very careful who you ask to show you around a new country or you might fall into the hands of show-offs like MF (lol)

Peeps, come to think of it, why do girls like posing(showing off/being fake) ?
I can be very down-to-earth oh but if I pose for you.......

BTW, I never wore the sweater and those boots had killer heels, so I only wore them a couple of times,,,,,,what a waste!

My First Sweet Revenge

It was my first year in senior class.
I was dressed in my brand new uniform and I had been chosen to welcome the new juniors to school.
I answered questions from concerned parents politely and showed the new students the way to the dormitories.
The day was drawing to an end when I felt someone staring at me.
I turned and lo and behold, it was the ugly face of Ms Ukoh, now older and looking wretched. She was wearing her trademark ugly smile, baring those hideous fangs and beckoning at me to come. I stared hard at her without moving.

Ms Ukoh: Pssssss! Pssssss! Come! You! You! Call that senior for me.
I stayed rooted to my appointment post thinking: What's wrong with saying, 'Excuse me!' to catch somebody's attention? Why hiss like a snake?
It wasn’t long before Ms Ukoh pushed me in the process of tapping me
Ms Ukoh: I have been calling you and you are not answering
Me: (boldly and loudly) What?!! What do you want from me?!!
Ms Ukoh: (grabs a little girl, a splitting image of her ugly self and she smiled): This is my daughter, she's a new student and I want you to take care of her like your sister, ehn. I want you to be her school mother.
Me: (First I hissed, then I laughed and slapped my hands together Naija style) Nonsense! In your dreams! Have you forgotten what you did to me in school? You might have forgotten oh but it is still fresh in my memory. You witch! You are still as ugly as ever. As for your daughter, come and force me to be her schoolmother. Schoolmother ko, schoolmother ni. *Hiss*
(I turned to the daughter who was smiling expectantly): You better scram from my front before I send you flying.

That said, I walked away from them, shoving her daughter outta my way.
Phew! And it felt so good, you see, in them days, it was an eye for an eye.
I walked over to some of my classmates and gave them the lowdown on the evil teacher.
They asked: Where is she?! Where is the daughter?
I pointed them out
Friends: We are going to deal with her.
And did they deal with her!
The stupid girl actually sought me out one Friday afternoon to report some seniors that were always punishing her to me.
I asked her if it was my business and she answered: My mummy said u should take care of me ooh, I will tell my mummy that u are not taking care of me.
Me: What you should tell your mummy is that she should stop being wicked to people. Kneel down there! Shirts anyone?
I got 18shirts for her to wash and return dried and ironed before the next day.
Everytime I saw her, she was always in trouble and even when I could plead on her behalf, I turned a blind eye.
My friends and I made sure she had the worst morning duties ever and nobody liked her, nobody even wanted her as a school-daughter.

Everytime I saw her, I made sure there was a reason to punish her or send her on a long errand, and I didn't have to look hard cos she was so dirty!
One visiting Sunday, Ms Ukoh was in the hostels to confront some seniors that were 'victimising' her daughter and did they give it to her! She left looking frustrated and talking to herself.
I was so excited as her sins were obviously being visited on her daughter.
I left the school at the end of the year and Ms Ukoh never had the gall to confront me, even though I showed her daughter hell!

Endnote: Life is not fair, vengeance is the Lord's.
I felt guilty reading through this post but I was young and like I said, it was the days of : An Eye For An Eye!!

My First Suspension

Back in Primary School, I hated Needlework cos I just couldn't sew no matter how hard I tried.
Not surprisingly, my needlework teacher hated me sooo much.
She made snide remarks about my hair being too long/unkempt, my shoes being too fancy for school and my needlework fabric being over the top.
I always ended up kneeling down in a corner of the class for one reason or the other and she would beat my knuckles sore with a heavy wooden ruler after each class.
She was very ugly and wicked and her hatred for me was very mutual.
I hated her from the depth of my soul.
I feigned illness several times to avoid going to her class but that only worked once.
Another time, I actually hid in the toilet and as I returned to class afterwards, I met her waiting for me in front of my class.
There was nowhere to run as she grabbed me and pinched my nose and ears till they were scorching hot and then she made me crawl to her office.
When we got to her office, I knelt down in my 'corner' and endured her knuckle-hitting ruler yet again.
It was the last time I tried to avoid her class.
Her name was Ms Ukoh, a dark, short, Calabar woman with teeth too large for her mouth.
She had thick sagging lips and wore jerry-curls and she was truly very ugly.
Her very big tummy was the same size as her very big bum.

One wet Thursday afternoon, we were lined up in needlework class to show her our homework.
I was last on the queue and there was a girl (Hadiza) just before me.
Hadiza: She's going to beat me, I didn't do my cross-stitches
Me: I did mine but I'm sure she won't like it
Hadiza: Why is she always beating you?
Me: She hates me
Hadiza: I hate her too
Me: Me too, I really really hate her. I think she's very ugly.
Hadiza: Witch! She's the ugliest teacher in the school. I wonder who even gives her money to do her jerry-curls
Mrs Ukoh: The two of you at the back, come here. What did you just say?
Me: (Shocked and teeth chattering in fear) Nothing
Hadiza: Nothing, we didn't say anything
Mrs Ukoh: You will repeat what you said today or you are dead
Me & Hadiza: Mrs Ukoh, we didn't say anything
Mrs Ukoh: Nene, get me a cane from the garden. Everybody can sit down, you two kneel down

As we knelt down, I started thinking: I'm done for! How could she have heard us from that distance when we were barely whispering! She must really be a witch!
Hadiza & I started weeping as Mrs Ukoh stared at us with pure hatred.
The cane arrived.
It was very long and tough.
Mrs Ukoh swiped the cane in air and demanded: 'I said what did you say?'
Hadiza: She..she...she's the one. She's the one that said that she hates you and you are ugly and that who gives you money to do your jerry curls
Class: Haaaaaaaa!
Mrs Ukoh had never looked so furious..……...or ugly: ‘I will kill you today’
Me: Ah Hadiza! You’re lying. You are the one that said who gives her money for....
I never finished the sentence as the cane hit me just then.
I screamed and writhed on the floor as the cane hit me over and over and over again.
Hadiza was not spared either.
I pretended to swoon and faint but she just continued beating us.
We both screamed in sheer agony and I remember passing out a couple of times and waking up to the pain.
Mrs Ukoh: (panting) I'll teach you a lesson you will never forget today. Even if you die, I'll follow you to your grave and wake you up from the dead.
She beat us like we were thieves for the better part of her period.
When she was through, we were covered with bruises and barely able to cry, walk or talk.
Hadiza had passed out and she had to be carried out of Mrs Ukoh's class.
My class teacher, whose daughter was a witness to the beating, had a confrontation with Mrs Ukoh as beating had been banned in the school.
We were taken to the school doctor who was also disgusted that someone could beat children like animals.

We must have been sedated because, I slept off and woke up to the sound of angry voices: My Mum & Hadiza’s dad demanding to see the Mrs Ukoh, the proprietress or someone in authority.
The police were called and photographs taken,it was a serious matter.
Mrs Ukoh had somehow disappeared.
Hadiza’s father was a lawyer and he threatened to have Mrs Ukoh jailed.
My housewife mum also threatened to shut down the school and notify NTA (Nigerian Television station).
The school authority was very apologetic and an agreement was reached that a meeting would be held the following day to resolve the matter, they so begged my mum not to get the Press.

The next day, my mum asked me to take her straight to Mrs Ukoh’s class.
I would never forget, the monstrous woman was sewing an hideous, green fabric when my mum pounced on her.
Not one person could restrain my mum, my mum beat her oh, I won’t lie and I was very glad because I was somehow avenged.
During the meeting, Hadiza’s mother also slapped her and spat on her.
My dad was absent.

The school authority suspended Mrs Ukoh indefinitely, though she returned to work a month later after she wrote a letter of apology to both parents.
Hadiza and I also got suspended for a week for backbiting and for the misconduct of our mothers.
When we returned to school, we were the class heroines and there was no more needlework as no substitute teacher had been found.
I guess that’s why Mrs Ukoh got her job back.
Of course, it was no longer compulsory for girls to do needlework so Hadiza and I joined the boys in crafts class and moulded all sorts with plasticine.

But this world is indeed a small world because I met Mrs Ukoh again and I had my revenge.
Watch out for My First Sweet Revenge!