Scribblings Of A Dramatic Introvert

 - a survivor's guide through recession The phrase is quite popular among young adults, denoting a time when we were much younger and wanted every snack by the roadside. The gala hawker would almost thrust a piece into your hands because of how much you kept staring at the well-stacked snacks in his brown carton. Ice cream followed closely, and on other days we just really wanted popcorn. Some of us took liberty into our own hands when we were handed over some little change of money to go about our days. For Sundays, we'd split the offering into two. One for the Lord, and the other half for our bellies. Oily puffpuff, and for me, I was obsessed with the ₦20 meatpie they sold at church gate. Yes, we were supposed to be good kids, but everything looked so tasty. When you blink your eyes at your mom, she raises a stern look, followed by "There's food at home". Sometimes we just go along with the flow, but some days, we threw tantrums, convinced our parents hated us. ...

  I don't want to be anything When I was a little girl, I wanted to become so many things. I wanted to be a journalist one time because Jiire Kola-Kuforiji looked like she was having a swell time reading the news on TV. She looked so confident in the information she was passing to the whole country and boy, did she not look so beautiful? A couple of weeks later, my mom had me on her legs in a bus as I watched the conductor count the money in his hand. A lot of notes. He was probably a millionaire, I thought to myself. Then, I decided that becoming a conductor wasn't going to be a bad idea. I got home and we turned everything we could find into a moving Danfo bus. Shouting "Owo e da" and holding a bunch of paper notes.  One day, I overheard the adults speaking and somewhere along the conversation, I realized I had been an idiot all the while. The real cash was in banking. There was a whole machine that counted money because they had so much money to count in one day! W...