Chxta's Space (3 Viewers)
- Thread starter Chxta
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You disappoint me, my friend. Your analysis is very flawed. A wife covers many more bases than a hooker does.
You cannot take a hooker to a dinner party. A hooker won't listen to you while you yap away about your identity crisis "now that my band split up, I don't know what to do with myself..". A hooker also fails to provide the peace of mind of a happy future. She also won't spend weekends and holidays with your annoying family, that in itself is worth gold! A hooker is also on consultant basis, and won't ever look after your best interest, make sure you don't screw yourself up (has no stake in the company).
You cannot take a hooker to a dinner party. A hooker won't listen to you while you yap away about your identity crisis "now that my band split up, I don't know what to do with myself..". A hooker also fails to provide the peace of mind of a happy future. She also won't spend weekends and holidays with your annoying family, that in itself is worth gold! A hooker is also on consultant basis, and won't ever look after your best interest, make sure you don't screw yourself up (has no stake in the company).
Je m'appelle Fusena. Je suis le Bénin, et la semaine dernière je suis allé au Nigéria pour la première fois. C'était un choc...
...all my life I have been used to things being done in the right place at the right time and in the right order. I do not know if to say that those people have got everything wrong, or they simply lack the discipline that is needed to do things the proper way.
The first thing that I noticed was that they have so many agencies at the border. And all the agencies demanded money from me. Considering the fact that their currency has more weight than our currency, this was quite an expensive undertaking. However, I still wonder why I needed to pay to have my passport stamped at entry since as a sub region citizen I am supposed to have free entry. Again, I noticed so many plebs walking across the border to and fro, and these people frankly cannot afford a passport. Again, the people who demanded money to have my passport stamped failed to issue me with a receipt. I think this means that the money went straight to their pockets. I also found it shocking that the people who were there in theory to check my vaccination status allowed me to enter the country upon payment of a fee. What a big health risk! I am in total shock at that one.
When I made it across the border, I was shocked at the sheer number of touts. All shapes, all sizes. All aggressive in demanding that my host give them money for watching over his car. I feared for life and limb when they came close, but my host seemed to brush them off with ease. He spoke with them in some Creole form of the English which I could not get, then we got into the car and began our journey into town.
Unlike in my country, the sheer police presence on the road to town here was intimidating. There was a police check point at almost every kilometre. What struck me about the policemen was the avarice in their eyes. Being that my host is a young man, he was stopped at every check point and harassed. They always wanted to see his boot, then they always asked for something to 'make their day'. It became apparent to me that smuggling illegal stuff into this country with these fellows on the prowl would be very easy. Just tip them a little and they would gladly look the other way. Sad. I counted twenty two check points between the border and the town.
Our roads may not be the best I have ever seen, but these people's roads are frankly appalling. My host showed remarkable skill in negotiating the dangerous looking obstacles that dotted the roads. Those obstacles included his fellow road users, pedestrians and motorcycle riders. The first impression I got of these people while we were in a traffic hold up is that they are a very impatient people. A road that was made for two lanes has to squeeze in three because no one is interested in awaiting his turn. People insert their cars into the smallest gaps that open up ahead of them without any thought as to the consequences on their cars. As a result almost all of the cars I saw here have one dent or the other, a far cry from what it is back home. Another effect of that impatience was that in the traffic there was a lot of motion but not too much real movement, hence a journey of 25 kilometres took us well over three hours to negotiate. Not good at all.
We got to my host's home, and another thing I noticed was that he stays in a slum. The refuse collectors do not appear to be bothered to do their jobs, so all the roads are littered with rubbish. The gutters are full and I pointed it out to him. He mumbled something about breeding mosquitoes. I shuddered. What was scarier to me probably is that he claimed that his suburb was quite the middle class suburb. I still maintain that it is a slum.
That night he took me to the business district for drinks. Even that looks like a slum. I noticed that the road signs are not properly maintained, and my host did not stop for one red light during the journey to and from. Scary!
In the club, I ordered a drink, from the menu, and the waiter rudely told me that it was not available. So why was it on the menu? I also notice one thing about these people, they are rich. Richer than we are back home, and they flaunt their wealth. Very ostentatious people if you ask me. It left me wondering why things are so bad here. In the eyes of the waiter who served me, and the security guards at the club, I noticed the same thing that I had seen in the eyes of the many police men we encountered on the way into town. Avarice. These people are a greedy people.
After all was done at the club, myself and my host went back to his place for our nuit d'amusement. Unfortunately however, it turned out to be less than that as the lights went out. When they did, the temeperature of the room went up sharply while the mosquitoes came out with a vengance. My host switched on the noise maker which everyone here apparently has, and while it provided relief because it powered on the fan, I could not sleep because of the amount of noise it made. The lights did not return until the next morning. My host took me to church the next day and I noticed the sheer number of churches in his suburb, and the overwhelming number of people going to them. It is frightening.
After church, we had to endure the return journey home. Again the police asking for gratification, and I noticed at the border, that my own country men who have been mixing with these people have begun to pick up a lot of their bad habits. Sad...
...Je ne pense pas que je veux aller au Nigéria encore. C'est un endroit effrayant, et j'ai été effrayé toute l'heure. Ils ont aller beaucoup pour eux, pourtant ils l'ont jeté toute loin. Je suis peu satisfait de mon voyage à cette terre des barbares.
...all my life I have been used to things being done in the right place at the right time and in the right order. I do not know if to say that those people have got everything wrong, or they simply lack the discipline that is needed to do things the proper way.
The first thing that I noticed was that they have so many agencies at the border. And all the agencies demanded money from me. Considering the fact that their currency has more weight than our currency, this was quite an expensive undertaking. However, I still wonder why I needed to pay to have my passport stamped at entry since as a sub region citizen I am supposed to have free entry. Again, I noticed so many plebs walking across the border to and fro, and these people frankly cannot afford a passport. Again, the people who demanded money to have my passport stamped failed to issue me with a receipt. I think this means that the money went straight to their pockets. I also found it shocking that the people who were there in theory to check my vaccination status allowed me to enter the country upon payment of a fee. What a big health risk! I am in total shock at that one.
When I made it across the border, I was shocked at the sheer number of touts. All shapes, all sizes. All aggressive in demanding that my host give them money for watching over his car. I feared for life and limb when they came close, but my host seemed to brush them off with ease. He spoke with them in some Creole form of the English which I could not get, then we got into the car and began our journey into town.
Unlike in my country, the sheer police presence on the road to town here was intimidating. There was a police check point at almost every kilometre. What struck me about the policemen was the avarice in their eyes. Being that my host is a young man, he was stopped at every check point and harassed. They always wanted to see his boot, then they always asked for something to 'make their day'. It became apparent to me that smuggling illegal stuff into this country with these fellows on the prowl would be very easy. Just tip them a little and they would gladly look the other way. Sad. I counted twenty two check points between the border and the town.
Our roads may not be the best I have ever seen, but these people's roads are frankly appalling. My host showed remarkable skill in negotiating the dangerous looking obstacles that dotted the roads. Those obstacles included his fellow road users, pedestrians and motorcycle riders. The first impression I got of these people while we were in a traffic hold up is that they are a very impatient people. A road that was made for two lanes has to squeeze in three because no one is interested in awaiting his turn. People insert their cars into the smallest gaps that open up ahead of them without any thought as to the consequences on their cars. As a result almost all of the cars I saw here have one dent or the other, a far cry from what it is back home. Another effect of that impatience was that in the traffic there was a lot of motion but not too much real movement, hence a journey of 25 kilometres took us well over three hours to negotiate. Not good at all.
We got to my host's home, and another thing I noticed was that he stays in a slum. The refuse collectors do not appear to be bothered to do their jobs, so all the roads are littered with rubbish. The gutters are full and I pointed it out to him. He mumbled something about breeding mosquitoes. I shuddered. What was scarier to me probably is that he claimed that his suburb was quite the middle class suburb. I still maintain that it is a slum.
That night he took me to the business district for drinks. Even that looks like a slum. I noticed that the road signs are not properly maintained, and my host did not stop for one red light during the journey to and from. Scary!
In the club, I ordered a drink, from the menu, and the waiter rudely told me that it was not available. So why was it on the menu? I also notice one thing about these people, they are rich. Richer than we are back home, and they flaunt their wealth. Very ostentatious people if you ask me. It left me wondering why things are so bad here. In the eyes of the waiter who served me, and the security guards at the club, I noticed the same thing that I had seen in the eyes of the many police men we encountered on the way into town. Avarice. These people are a greedy people.
After all was done at the club, myself and my host went back to his place for our nuit d'amusement. Unfortunately however, it turned out to be less than that as the lights went out. When they did, the temeperature of the room went up sharply while the mosquitoes came out with a vengance. My host switched on the noise maker which everyone here apparently has, and while it provided relief because it powered on the fan, I could not sleep because of the amount of noise it made. The lights did not return until the next morning. My host took me to church the next day and I noticed the sheer number of churches in his suburb, and the overwhelming number of people going to them. It is frightening.
After church, we had to endure the return journey home. Again the police asking for gratification, and I noticed at the border, that my own country men who have been mixing with these people have begun to pick up a lot of their bad habits. Sad...
...Je ne pense pas que je veux aller au Nigéria encore. C'est un endroit effrayant, et j'ai été effrayé toute l'heure. Ils ont aller beaucoup pour eux, pourtant ils l'ont jeté toute loin. Je suis peu satisfait de mon voyage à cette terre des barbares.
