From the dusty roads of Ibadan to Ife, and later to Akure, Akungba, Ikare and Ilorin, and then Kabba, Abuja, Kaduna and finally Zaria, my pair of black denim(?) jeans has literally seen it all, the good, the bad, and the downright uuuuugly. This is no joke. Through rain, mud, lawns, beer spills, dokunu which Peter made me eat, Chiedu’s ogbono soup, and suya spices from Hamdala Hotel, tonight, it will fairly contest as the dirtiest fabric south of the sahara.

On the other hand, my intermittent internet access has taken all the fun out of spontaneous blogging at historical or memorable sites. While sitting peacefully in front of the open bus park at Jabi in Abuja yesterday, I all but screamed at how much stress it was and no stable enough internet connection to put up a post. Unfortunately, three hours later, a new reality had replaced my latest impressions and I moved on.

Alright, I did changed my shirts many times along the way. I even managed to buy a few more hausa-type fabrics, and a fulani-made leather wallet in Kaduna for my American friend Chris. The problem however, like the fabled cripple, is not up but down. Shirts and tops well scented like fresh dew and a dirty black jeans with all the country grime from Ibadan to Wusasa just does not make a good combination. I am having sleepless nights. I know what you’re thinking: why not take everything off at night, wash them, sleep naked and hope that by morning there would be electricity to make them dry if the rain wouldn’t allow? Ah-ha, ask Wande Coal how that usually ends.

Lesson learnt, next time never ever leave the house again on impulse. Sit down and plan for it. That way, you would hold at least two pairs of jeans so you can change them at will. And wasn’t it Ife that you told them at home that you were going? Now here you are just returned with her from one of the oldest monuments to Christianity in Northern Nigeria. You could get an article or more or out of that, you know. Yes, na article we go chop? And what will you do with this jeans in the absence of another to change it with yet? Buy? Yes yes, I know. Just shut up and go to bed. But it’s raining outside? So what? Get your grimy self up and find your way home.

Picture is that of Zuma Rock at Suleja on the way from Abuja.