**havent been blogging as I should, I know, but I've been up to my ears with work and I've had so many contradictory emotions that its been difficult to sit and actually try to write them down.**

**starting this week though, I'm going to make sure that I blog regularly... at least to sort through the feelings I'm having**

**2010 marks the beginning of a new era in my life.... I've just turned 18... and I'm starting college...**

Three days before I take off to Yola, Adamawa, where I'll be schooling (The American University of Nigeria) I sit infront of my laptop, jaded... I dont have my phone, my wallet, my make up bag. I dont even have a toothbrush.....

**Vikki and I walk out of the glass double doors at Silverbird, its a quater to nine, we've been here since five pm. We watched the five ten showing o f princess and the frog, but I lost my phone in the cinema hall and we had to wait until the next showing was done to search for it properly. It obviously wasnt there. My blackberry fingers twitch as I watch Vikki bbm-ing. I feel as though my hand has been cut off, i keep reaching for it, but it's not there.

We walk out onto the dirt road, off to the entrance of the parking lot. This is practically our last night on the town, the next few days will be spent getting ready for college, she's going to Babcock, in Ogun State, and I'm going to AUN in Yola. The road is dark and lonesome, with only a few miscreant rays of light from passing cars. Vikki talks about 'Babcock Rules,' no jeans, no earrings, no chicken, no camera phones... the list is endless, and she doesnt really want to go.

We get to the highway, cars zoom past. Every taxi that passes by has a passenger; taxis dont just drive by here. We decide to walk down the highway to the other street where getting a taxi will be easier. As we stroll down, Im thinking of all the reasons why losing my phone is a blessing in disguise. 'Maybe i was going to get a really bad phone call today. Like a bad business deal or something...' Vikki laughs.

She walks ahead of me to avoid a lump on the ground and as we look up, there is a man infront of us. 'hey wassup..' he looks really doped up and he's twitching. Vikki tries to move past him. I'm about to tell her to keep walking when I notice something in his hand. 'Vikki chill...' my body has gone cold. She moves back too, and he waves it in her face, still twitching. 'Gimme ur bag jo' I try to make out his features in the dim light. Vikki passes over her bag. He turns and faces me. 'you nko?' I pass over my bag and take a step back. 'where is the money?' he is still waving the gun at me. 'it s in the bag,' i say, raising my hands to show him that i have nothing else on me.

He walks away. Slow. Assured.

Us two helpless girls stand rooted to the spot, dumbfounded.

We've just been robbed.**

As i sat in my room that evening, my throat hoarse from telling the story so many times, and the belief that i lost my bag and my phone in one day settling in, i realised why i wanted to be a part of the protest that had took place that morning.

We are not protesting because we think it will make a difference.

We are not protesting because that is the solution to the problem.

We protest because we are violated, because all we have is our voice... we've been robbed of everything else. We've been robbed, and although we know that nothing is going to replace what has been taken from us, we feel that the least we can do is to express our outrage.

The police were unable to trace the robber. (obviously)
The mtn office was unable to trace my blackberry (obviously)

So they got away this time.
The way the government is getting away with holding a gun to the heads of the citizens.

** On the other hand, I got my hair done this week, in a style that is called the 'bob marley braid'

The hair is carefully parted in a little circle and the hairdresser uses extensions to make a long, thin braid. Like a thousand times. I started in the morning and finished in the evening, and as I sat, my back and bottom aching, I listened to the tale that the hairdresser told.

Appearently, i must not trust just any hairdresser in the complex tasking of braiding my hair. Some hairdressers just wont allow their client to use a mirror during the hair making process. Such hairdressers finish in half the time it would take a normal hairdresser. Although this might sound advantageous, its seems that these hairdressers use a voodoo that gives them imaginary hands. So although you can only feel on pair of hands on your head, the truth your hairdresser is getting help from her spirit friends in the spirit world. *chuckle***

So I'm in yola now, doing my orientation. Not exactly what I expected. People are much nicer than i thought they would be, but then again its just orientation week. Im in a four in one room, i have three other roomates. Going for my placement test this week, so will blog a little later on.

This is a very frustrated blog, i know, but im quite frustrated with the situation of things at the moment.People are making a big deal over something i think is quite simple to solve. Our president is sick, so? what spectacular task was he perfomring that he is now indisposed to perform? i think there are a lot of other pressing issues that we are not speaking out about and it seems abit hypocrital to bite upon such a trivial issue so ruthlessly and refuse to let go>>> then again... what do i know???