nigerian moms

Basically Warframe
  • Tenno: space ninjas coming in all variety of Power Ranger types
  • Grineer: the reason why cloning is a bad idea and Bombards are from hell
  • Corpus: old greedy fucks just doing business
  • Infested: Mushroom like zombies
  • Stalker: He never fucking appears on time
  • Nef Anyo: the Corpus version of a Nigerian prince
  • Lotus: Space mom
  • Alad V: he greedy for the armor and is wrinkly
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Ovdovtya. P1 & P2.

(To my huge surprise, over the the weekend my favourite lil’ princess game received an update as an extended demo which I’ve replayed to exhaustion. Basically, I’m about to replay it again. )

ANYWAYS. Ovdovtya was my second MC and became my favourite (and most developed) by far. I always want her to win so baaaadly, like rooting for her, despite her sometimes evilness. She’s inspired by a few things, one being a story from one my Nigerian peer’s mom. Growing up in Nigeria, apparently, she really loved the song “Hard Candy Christmas” by Dolly Parton, so much she would cry when listened to it.The song reminded her about hardships in her life, but gave her hope life would be better in the States. Today, she not only named her daughter after Dolly Parton, but she’s very sucessful in the medical field.

Thus, Ovdovtya’s true self stems from her own hardships as a young (judged) widow and the burdened responsiblilty from her defamed noble family. My most manipulative and eloquent MC, she becomes very well-liked and beloved, but she wonders to what extent is it all worth?


SN: The man below is a “remake” of one of the game’s delegates I did here. In Ovdovtya’s “good” run she allows herself to fall for his witty banter and charm.

Confession

15. Look, I know it’s not supposed to be fun doing braids, but it’s not supposed to be torture either…….right? My mom (Nigerian) had this African friend of hers who’d she send me to every month ever since I was 5, and before the day came my mom would rub chemical relaxer all over my hair like it was a shampoo 8 hours before the braiding, which she told me would “soften” my hair (lyes…haha get it? I’m sorry back to the story). My mom’s friend would then braid my hair for 9-11 hours in a chair in a kitchen with no AC. She’d comb (root to tip) every single small tuft of hair for five minutes straight, then braid the tuft of hair with Expression hair with such a tightness that I literally could not move my head for weeks and little bumps and nicks would appear all over my scalp. The braiding/twisting wasn’t even the worst part; it was how she combed. She’d comb all the way from the down up, using all the force she had, which of course ripped hair right out of my scalp in the process. By the end of it about one and a half fistfuls of my own ripped out hair would be laying on the ground for me to see. All my new growth (and sometimes more) would be gone. Hahaha….I even remember the comb she used. It was a grey plastic beat-up rattail comb with a very pointy metal tail. She bought it from a Sally’s beauty supply store. You know the ones– they have a long stick attached to a comb with itty-bitty tooths. I HATED that comb. That was what she used to detangle my hair. And mind you my texture is 4B! Braid after braid after braid after braid after braid…Once I was done I was trembling and my eyes would be red and face stained from the tears. Oh and telling her to be gentle never worked– she never listened to me. I told my mom about the pain but she always silenced me and said “Beauty is pain; You don’t want your hair looking wild and nappy, do you?” Sometimes while my mom’s friend braided my hair, I’d remember how my white female friends would always talk about how they just shampooed and conditioned only and that would be it. THAT’S ALL THEY HAD TO DO. It only made me sob even more. It lasted for seven years, every month and then when I turned 12, my mom’s friend moved away. My mom was angry, but on the inside I was doing a little happy dance. I felt bad but, I’ve never felt so liberated. Nowadays my mom finds the occasional person to braid me and my sisters’ hair. Still hurts a lot but I prefer it to my mom’s old friend any day. Wishful thinking, but I’m thinking of going natural in college. I can’t do it know because it’s short, unhealthy, damaged and uneven. I don’t know…I hope I can make my hair healthy enough and grow out the uneven spots to do it in the future. But I don’t even know where to start.

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“Now you’ve opened yourself to the dark side.”

Nigerian kid pranks his mom into believing that he got a tattoo.