Monday, 28 July 2014

Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 60

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I went for a training session in church last Saturday, as we were going to meet a very popular life coach whom we would ordinarily be asked to pay tens of thousands of naira to listen to. I could not imagine I would get to hear this guy, without having to pay a dime.

So with my hair hanging down in twist outs, as I stepped out to ease myself, after one of the sessions was over, I saw this guy just sitting in one corner.  He looked very calm, and not as high and mighty as he looks on TV and billboards. I oohd and aahd over him, and raved about how he’s my role model, the best thing that ever happened since slice bread, etc. I collected his business card, having faith that our paths would cross in future.

I finally went back into the training room, and he was introduced. We all gave him a standing ovation. As expected, he did an excellent job in motivating us to be leaders and whatever we desired to be, as we listened in awe and agreement. By the time he was done, we wished there could be something more than a standing ovation we could give him. I was far more impressed than I thought I would be. Some people are just gifted.

We all gathered to take a group picture with this phenomenal speaker, and afterwards, many of us were scampering to take personal pictures with him. Who doesn’t want to famz with a celebrity, in this social media age?

Finally, it was my turn. I took what I felt was my coveted pictures with this motivational speaker, and even quickly chatted with Dimeji, to brag about my luck.

The man eventually left, as we settled back for the next session. I finally decided to check my snapshots, so I could send to Dimeji and some other people. I then saw that…

Our celebrity speaker had his eyes and nose in awkward positions.

yuck
Source
I began to wonder maybe it was my presence by his side that irritated him. I looked closely at the picture, and realized we stood directly in front of an industrial fan on full blast. My twist outs were out of place, waving, and the last thing I saw shocked me. The picture caught him gently flipping my violent and intrusive hair strands off his neck, thus the reason for his facial expression.

Why oh why did I wear those ridiculously high heels, and stand extremely close to that man? I imagine seeing him next time, and he suddenly arms himself with a pair of scissors to snip off any of my hair strands that threatens to attack him.

There goes my chance of making friends with the most famous speaker in town at the moment, thanks to my hair.

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