♥ Lara

I remember tweeting that day, I wish she could just ditch the false eyelashes because to me she is actually a beauty minus the lashes.

She was so cool headed and sat alone laughing at the article she was reading in the magazine. Some guy walked up to her and asked her about Prezzo, she was all smiles and replied that he was fine. 

My cousin called me last night to tell me she is dead and I wondered what  sort of joke that was. Off I was to Linda Ikeji's blog and there it was...I still could not believe it and I went off to twitter and the venom of that site turned my mood into a mess.

I actually did love her as an artiste, she was creative and better than most of the so called next big talent in the industry. I loved her video with Eldee, "Mole gboko lowo e" back in the days.

I guess I might keep the picture since I would never get a chance to take another one with her. Her death is so unexpected and sad...

Rest in Peace, Susan Oluwabimpe Harvey

♥ Lara 

My last days in Europe, I took a trip to Italy.

Before my surgery, I got 5days off for leave and decided to pay my friend who works in the DHL office in Italy a visit. I must say before my visit, I had no idea about the city called Bergamo... The city is divided into two the upper and lower city, the upper city is connected to the lower city by a cable car.

♥  Lara 

First of all, Happy New Year to every body.
I know I am uber late with this review, but then enjoy

Review
I must say curiosity led me to buy my copy of “In the Land of Invisible Women”, I expected to learn so much about what it means to be a woman in Saudi Arabia; we have all read or heard about how women have little or rights in the Saudi Kingdom, women are said to be abused, mistreated, they are not allowed to drive and how women are not allowed to walk on the street or in a car without the company of a man from the family. The author being a muslim herself, I expected to read an unbiased account of her experience.

Qanta's pre-kingdom expectation was that her muslim background and multiple qualification would make her life easier in the Kingdom, but contrary to her expectations and dismay, life in the Kingdom is totally different from what she had imagined. Rather than be embraced, she was scorned and rejected and in the same place found honesty, humor, loyalty and love. Qanta’s first rude shock of the reality of life in the kingdom began the moment she landed at the King Khalid airport. Men stared unflinchingly at her unveiled “non-white” face. The gender segregation also began right at the airport. In the beginning, she found the hijab and abbayah, a symbol of oppression:

“This veiling was an anathema to me. Even with a deep understanding of Islam, I could not imagine mummification is what an enlightened, merciful God would ever have wished for half of all His creation. These shrouded, gagged silences rise into a shrieking register of muted laments for stillborn freedoms. Such enforced incarceration of womanhood is a form of female infanticide.”

In time, she saw this symbol not just as one of oppression and also one of liberation and feminism for the women. The shield of the abbayah was the only way many Saudi women could enter the public space and participate in the public life of the Kingdom:

“In some respects the abbayah was a powerful tool of women’s liberation from the clerical male misogyny. I would be reminded of the abbayah as a banner for feminism time and again as I encountered extraordinary Saudi women who would work alongside me.” (pg 48)

In the Land of Invisible Women is the memoir of a Pakistani, British-born, American trained doctor, Qanta Ahmed, who dared entered the Saudi Kingdom after her visa to remain in the USA was declined. The book asides from being about a personal journey of  Qanta’s struggles  in the male dominated society  which is caught between and often conflicting tradition and modernization. It also tells the stories of the struggles of “elite” women whom the author encounters in the Kingdom.

Each chapter of the Land of Invisible Women mirrors the world of the Kingdom ranging from divorce (Saudi style) to Hajj. She discusses the life women lead behind closed doors and out of the abbayah and eyes of the Mutawaeen (the religious police), which the people both male and female live in fear of. Regardless of religious affiliation, the women must adhere strictly to the Sharia dress code of any abbayah which must cover the body and hair. No woman, Saudi or not was permitted to move about town without a male companion.  The women were segregated from the men; couples were forced to always carry along with them their marriage certificate when in public to verify their relationship. She wrote about the racism against people of darker skin in the Kingdom, and how it rears its hideous head while on hajj. There was also the story of the “forbidden” innocent crush with one of her superiors and the story of the grieving parents who had just lost a child.

I was amazed like the writer to learn there had been a time before Saudi women were uncovered, no abbayahs or scarves and could go out alone without their husbands or male family member. A time before the menace of the Mutawaeen and the mandate of monolithic religion, that time was before 1979. Also unlike what we had with the Hajj this year (2012), women could perform the pilgrimage without a man accompanying them.

Also amazing to learn about is the Saudi style of divorce; never knew a woman could ask for divorce if the husband decides to take a second wife without the consent of the first wife. In fact the idea that the man has to seek the consent of the wife in the first instance is shocking.

I particularly did not like the writer’s depiction of the Indians she met during her time in the Kingdom. She assumed they were all Bengalis (a tribe in India) and her ignorance of the Indian race was well documented across the book. She finds “huge lines of impoverished Bengalis arriving to take up menial jobs. She imagines “a poor Bengali gardener”, there was also her description of the “South Indian check out boy who spoke in his native Hindi”.

Qanta also seems to have own bit of self esteem as she did not seem comfortable in her own skin among the “creamy” skinned and flawless Saudi women. Her gushing depiction of the individual beauty of each and every Saudi woman she met, the obsession and bid to outshine one another with brand names, grace and Jewellery.

The Saudi women are not particularly helpless despite the world’s view; the book shows how these women despite so many religious restrictions have grown to become strong and highly intelligent intellectuals contributing their bits to the development of the great Saudi Kingdom.

Munich, Germany

♥  Lara

I am one who always sits on the fence when discussions or should I say arguments on the whole natural/relaxed air debates springs up anywhere. I always wondered the big deal till I chopped off my hair.

There is no love for the natural hair African girl in Nigeria. The hostility is just too much. My mom just assumes I am not alright at all. She is constantly attacking me and always tells me to go buy relaxer to blow out my hair.

My sister and family friend once refused to allow me attend an event with them since I refused to wear a wig. I would not even say I am Pro-Natural, I chopped off my hair because I was tired of the hair itself and intend to be a team "gorimapa" for a while.

Friends have given that look "of why the hell will you cut of your hair", a guy I recently met said he does not find women with no hair attractive (that is his own business, since I was not even attracted to him). The problem is I have not even decided if I want to grow the hair not to even start thinking of it will be natural or relaxed. Everyone seems to have assumed that I  am going natural and frankly no one in my family is ready to imagine that.

I am not sure what the problem is, but from the hostility I have encountered, our people fear for that which they are not used to. Our people are used to seeing the weaves and the braids. The African natural hair is not seen to be attractive, it makes one ugly or worse you are classified as a "deeper-life member".

I don't even know how where to start the fight from, a lot of people still do not know I have shaved my hair because a lot of time, I have wigs on..right now I even have braids...but for one, I wish people would just mind their business and stop stressing my life on what decision I make with my hair.

So like I stated in my last post, the first time I would ever be admitted into any hospital was for the laparoscopy I had recently. I have always been a perfectly healthy child, asides from minor malaria, burns and little wounds, me and hospitals had no business. I remember taking one drip sha when I was 9 but I did not sleep in the hospital.


Since I traveled 3days after my surgery, automatically my post surgery check-up had to be in Nigeria. One of the reason why I did not want my surgery done is Germany is that now I have a Surgery report in German which was not translated, so the doctors here are doing the examination all over again.
My father works in a General hospital and the man decided I have to seek medical advice in one of the hospitals. I have heard tales of how people are treated in all these General hospitals. Gov. Fashola disguised as a patient once received shabby treatments at some of these hospitals. I tell you the madness that goes on in the place is better told as gist than experienced.

Because of my father, I have cut a long line short and have been attended to without having to spend the whole of my day and there was this particular day the old man insisted I experience the whole madness. Sometimes the staffs of the General hospital are not to blame, some patients can be so unruly and extremely rude, but I think they can actually exercise more patience.  There are who people get to the hospital as early as 4.30am just to make sure they get their names on the list for a doctor who would come to work by 10am. There are doctors who after 1 or 2 hours will stop attending to patients just to go deal with a personal appointment or business.

I spent 4 hours just to get my blood drawn for less than 5mins. I got to the hospital by 8am as directed the day before and met this really long queue. When I asked, the people said they had submitted a list by 6am and they were been called from that list. I sha went to ask the woman drawing the blood and she said I should go sit down. I went to sit down and I was told that the chair was for people collecting their results. I found another chair; those ones said their category is different. They were there for a specific type of test. I went back to meet the woman to ask where exactly we were to sit and she started shouting that we should all go and sit down and stop disturbing her. As in, I was frustrated and I called my dad, the man said I should sha sit there and come and give him report of my experience which I refused to give before some people will now start swearing for somebody.  I was supposed to have an abdominal scan done that day, but madam consultant, who only comes 3days a week decided to take that Friday off.

The abdominal scan and blood test which I had was to determine if I had ulcer as diagnosed by the doctor I consulted. My symptom was nausea and vomit, the first question I was asked my all 3 doctors I met including my dad was if I was pregnant. The consulting doctor was so sure I was pregnant and I simply told her asked her why a doctor would go ahead and cut me open for a laparoscopy if I was pregnant. Since I was not pregnant, she then diagnosed that I probably have ulcer. Despite the ulcer/pregnancy which was suspected, I was given malaria drugs to take.

Thank God, surgery from Germany went well, 2weeks back the doctor found a tiny cyst growing in the other ovary which she said I should not worry about. On Friday, I had another scan  which was to check if I have Peptic ulcer and she said the cyst is no longer there, so right now I am cyst free. Like the doctor told me in Germany, they never can tell if it will come back, as seen my right ovary is at risk of growing new cysts.

For now I am grateful for life and I am ready to have my life back. The last 1 month has been crazy for me; I was scared particularly when I was told the right ovary had cysts in it. The hospital business is over for now and hopefully it is for a very long time.

Thank you all once again for the love and prayers, I really appreciate you all.

♥  Lara