Mama and Her Princess

Let me introduce you to my grandmother.  We call her Mama Guy.  Guy as in Pidgin for poser.  The name is well deserved but I’ll tell you why another day. She doesn’t speak or understand much English so it was for her sake I learnt to speak Pidgin. It was easier than learning Urhobo.

Mama Guy has a dog called Princess.

Ihave reason to believe she loves that mongrel more than all her thirteen grand children combined.  The first question she asks when she gets up in the morning is ‘Princess don chop?’ Heaven help you if you say no. 

Princess only eats fresh rice and stew. The rest of us make do with leftovers.

Princess does not eat eba. On the one occasion I expressed the same dislike, I was told I am spoilt and ungrateful.

Princess does not run any errands. All she does with her 24hrs is sat at Mama Guy’s feet eating and getting head and back rubs. The rest of us run up and down the stairs fetching till our knees give way…then we crawl on our stomachs.

Princess sits by the door and whines when she is hungry. Mama Guy barks orders to go and feed her doggy (daw-gee) at the nearest person. Should any of us attempt such antics, our brains will be slapped into position.

Princess was given the name my dear father had the world call me and I subsequently became known by the names on my birth certificate. Upstaged by a dog…a beast.

I decided to fight for my human rights.

Mama, e be like say na princess you like pass for this house.”

Ehen, problem dey?!”

How you go love dog pass your own pikin?!”

She stared at me in disbelief. “You dey jealous Princess?”

“Mama, how I go dey jealous dog? Which kind talk be dat?!”

Oya no vex. U sef siddon for ground make I begin rub you.”

Pursing her lips, she let out a loud whistle. Princess came bounding through the door and settled at her feet.

Join am for floor now, make I follow una two play.”

The insult. I plunked myself down on a sofa, turned on the TV and ignored the dog and its mistress.

Dog suya anyone?!


The real Princess isn’t that cute. Trust me, she isn’t.


  1. r u sure your grandma did not live in england at one point? cos thats the only way she would love a dog so much.. probably have english blood in her.

    I also believe your jealousy is justifiable. I would ave argued more than


  2. “U sef siddon for ground make I begin rub you.”
    Oh my goodness, that is the funniest thing I’ve read all week… LoL… CLASS!!!
    Good old nana…


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