The Arik Experience: Goodbye London, Hello Lagos!

39,000 feet above ground and bored as a scarecrow in a deserted field. The inflight entertainment is playing up so I can’t watch any of the movies on offer and thanks to my die hard resolve to wash my hair before leaving for the airport, I didn’t have enough time to download any movies to my iPad.

I’m on an Arik flight, first time ever. Snob that I am, I was apprehensive about trying out the new airline on the block but na condition make crayfish bend. My funds were not ripe enough for British Airways and as for that Virgin, don’t get me started on their extortionate fares.

I must admit, this plane is impressive. The seats in economy (promotion cometh!) have more leg room than I know what to do with. You long ones would be pleased.

Fot those of you that travel with all your worldly possessions, you’ll be pleased to know that be baggage allowance is 32kg. In this day and age, that’s stupendously generous. God bless them

The cabin crew were a lot scruffier than im used to seeing…not that i was bothered bt their appearance. Just a random observation. They are also as rude and abrupt as any others but unlike their colleagues on other airlines, lack the ability to be politely so. The ability to insult while grinning must be  added to their training syllabus. That said, Nigerians are demanding and can test the patience of a dead man. Our diva antics are out of this world ridiculous.

The plane was taxiing and a woman was still yapping away on her phone.

Air Hostess: “Madam! Please turn off your phone, we are about to takeoff!”
Woman: “Ha ha! You will give me the full gist when I come. What of that guy from before?”
Air Hostess: “Madam, turn off your phone!”
Woman: “I’m already on the plane, we will soon take off.”

Even my patience was tested. It took…

Sorry, I was just interrupted by the sound of the most ridiculous attempt at an American accent I’ve ever heard. I’m not a member of the “thou shall not speak fone” brigade but if thou must, thou must do it well.

…the air hostess raising her voice to deafening levels for the woman to obey. Terminating the call, she calmly addressed the hostess.

“It’s like something is wrong with you. Did someone annoy you before you came to work this evening?”

LMAO! Some human beings are just not normal.

The elderly man two seats to my right has spent the last half hour moaning about how sub standard the service on this flight is. He is especially upset that he was only given a tiny  glass of red wine.

“Why can’t they give us those little bottles other airlines give? Why are they rationing the thing, is it communion?! I need to get tipsy so I can sleep well.”

The woman next to him is irritated because the crew did the coffee round before serving the tea she was desperate for.

“I don’t know why they can’t serve the two together. Is it not two hands they have?”

If I had a pound for every time she has hissed in the last two hours, I’d have enough money to pay the £300 difference and hop on Mr Branson’s plane.

Another man in the association of moaners is upset because he doesn’t like the selection of movies on offer. “When I flew last weekend, it was the same set of movies, this weekend too, the same.”

The person behind me is snoring like he is propelling the engines of this plane. How is a girl supposed to get some sleep when no one will shut up?!

The food is WACK! My friend IB had told me stories about how nice the jollof rice on the flight is but this jollof wannabe I am eating is like poison. The bread roll is rock hard and this cheesecake isn’t worth a mention. The only edible thing is the salad. Sigh.

Arik have a reputation for taking African timing to another level but thankfully, my flight left on time. I’m grateful for small mercies.

Time to sleep. Don’t know what internet access will be like out there so I’m not holding my breath. Blogging while I’m there is highly unlikely…or maybe I’m just a lazy fart.



This, That and The Other

Hi Folks,

I cannot begin to tell you how eventful my life has been in the last two months. But for God and my faith, I can categorically say I wouldn’t still be standing. I have seen the grace and power of God at work in ways I’d only read of in books and I tell you, that stuff is real!

I was in Nigeria for a couple of weeks in July to see my darlings Stinkus and Yoda married off traditional style. Super exciting! The more difficult the test, the more precious the certificate so guys, get ready for your double platinum award. *wink*. Stinkus’ makeup was done by my other lover Stella of Stella’s Addiction! She did a fantastic job! So proud of my moin-moin! Need a make-up artist? Look no further!

There are few people in the world that can make me buy aso-ebi (native fabric) and tie gele (traditional head scarf) and Stinkus is one of them. Lol. I almost never like pictures of myself because I am not photogenic but I thought I’d give you a sneak peek of my back view…it’s more palatable. Lol. My dress was made by my friend Desola of Daisy’s Wardrobe. I love how talented my friends are!

In other news, as I told you all a few weeks ago, I have changed my name and yes, it IS legal. I’ve had all sorts of reactions to the news and the experience has helped distinguish (like I didn’t know them already) the people who REALLY know me on this planet. For the most part, it’s been positive. I am especially touched by those who don’t understand it but out of respect and trust (in my state of mind. lol), have accepted it regardless. As expected, the pill has been hardest for certain members of my family to swallow. Much as I love them, I make no apologies for the decision I have made. They may never understand it but I am okay with that.

Growing up, I always got in trouble with my teachers for scribbling my name on anything in sight. Tables, chairs, walls…nothing was exempt. In my final year at secondary school, I was at a prefects meeting and in typical fashion, was doodling my name all over my notebook when one of my colleagues interrupted with the words, “You’re really proud of your name aren’t you?”

She couldn’t have been more correct.

I was (and still am) very proud of the name. It represented who I was and given that my father is six feet underground and responsible for naming me, there was a sentimental attachment to it too. This is without doubt the most difficult thing I’ve had to do in my life to date so anyone that thinks I did this on a whim or for whatever other frivolous reason is sorely mistaken and doesn’t know me at all.

After my name change post, I got my first rude comment on this blog. It was funny actually. Made me feel like I’d finally been inducted into blogosphere proper.  I deleted it of course. I’m not opposed to people openly disagreeing with me but I draw the line at being insulted in such spectacular fashion. Something about being stupid, having slave mentality and wanting to be white and blah blah blah. See me see trouble?! Lol.

In other news, I flew Arik for the first time ever and it was an experience. Was apprehensive as I’m a BA girl through and through and didn’t know what to expect. I had different experiences on both legs of the flight and seeing as I didn’t have much to do mid air, documented them. Stay tuned.