Firstly, she isn’t my neighbor (Kemi is my neighbor). Secondly, I had a mental battle about whether to first tell you about my Oyibo (White, for the non Nigerians) neighbor, Chandler or whether to tell you about my former coworker, Tolu. I chose to tell you about Tolu because I am not done collecting data on my Chandler, and frankly because Tolu’s story is much more entertaining.
Clearly, I’m only blogging about her today because I have long since stopped working at that job. I don’t even know if she still works there. But when I worked there, I was the person between the Oga at the top and the other employees, so I had a lot of contact with the employees. I don’t know how old Tolu is (or was at the time), but my guess is that she was about my age, or maybe about two years younger. The trick now is to figure out my age at that time. I also don’t know how long Tolu had been living in America at the time or how long she had been working for that company, but I know she was there before I took that position (not necessarily before I started working for the company).
So here’s the thing about Tolu: apparently, she doesn’t know that she’s no longer in Nigeria. And of course, I don’t know what part of Nigeria she lived in either. When Tolu had a baby, she called the office to invite “everyone” to the naming ceremony. Now, this might be normal in Nigeria where we’re more of a community, but in America where it’s every man for himself, it’s very weird when you call to invite “everyone” to your event, especially since you have probably never even met some of the employees.
The lady who had the misfortune of receiving and consequently spreading this message was Ms. Bridget, a White woman in her sixties, and when she told “everyone” that they (we) were all invited to Tolu’s event, you could hear the mockery in her voice. I did not blame her, of course. Don’t forget that no one even knew what the heck a naming ceremony is.
When Tolu’s baby was finally big enough to leave the house, Tolu brought him to the office, and when she entered the office, she kept calling for “Mommy,” until she entered Ms. Bridget’s office where she said, “Mommy, your grandson is here.” To which, naturally, Ms. Bridget was stunned. I don’t know what stunned her more: that Tolu called her Mommy, or that she now apparently had a grandson. Ms. Bridget asked, “What grandson?” Tolu responded, “Ah, mommy, your grandson now! He’s in the car.” Ms. Bridget asked, “Your son?” And Tolu said yes. When Ms. Bridget asked why she left him in the car, she said she double-parked. And yes, she left the infant in the car. Alone.
Eventually, Ms. Bridget got to meet her grandson, but as soon as Tolu walked out of the office with her son, Ms. Bridget came to me and asked, “Why the hell is she calling me mommy?” I suppose she was more shocked at being mommy than she was at being Grandma. I laughed and tried to make light of the situation. I explained to her that in Tolu’s culture, it was a sign of respect, nothing else. Her facial affect suggested that what I had said did not make sense to her, but she let it go — after inquiring if we weren’t both from the same Nigeria. Yes, we were, but Nigeria has countless ethnicities. I neither had the strength nor the desire to explain further.
During another incident, Tolu’s client called to complain about her. Apparently, Tolu had been stopping over at their house unannounced to “greet” them. Then she’d stay for a while and even eat their food. It’s normal to stop by your friend’s house in Nigeria without first calling, and even here, you can do that, too, but only a very tight friend, and preferably, a fellow Nigerian – or African at the least.. Your client is definitely not your friend, and not to mention, also American. You cannot go to people’s homes without an invitation to “greet” them. No, that’s literally what she tells them when she shows up: I said let me come and greet you people.
Another issue with Tolu was her paycheck. For whatever reason, she refused to get direct deposit. Perhaps, she did not trust the “system?” She preferred, instead, to drive to the office every couple of weeks to pick up her check. Most times, however, it was her husband – also a Yoruba man – who came to pick it up. Except for the times when they would fight. We knew this because Tolu would call the office and instruct that her check not be given to her husband, but she wouldn’t relay the message to him that he shouldn’t pick it up, so whenever he comes, we would have to refuse to give it to him, and then, he would sheepishly turn around and go back home, looking humiliated. Tolu was the main income provider of the household because he was in school, as he told me (although I did not ask). We always knew when things went back to normal because she’d call back and say that it was now okay to give him the check.
One last thing about Tolu: Her voicemail was of her singing a Nigerian gospel music, and she’s tone deaf, but she either does not know it or she does not care. Whenever you call her, you’d have to endure about 30 seconds of her singing. By the time you are able to leave a message, you leave it with a lot of verbal attitude because you’re angry about the 30 minutes of bad music you just had to endure. If she picks up the call or if she was even the one who called you, the first thing she’d say – regardless of what you say – is “Tolu speaking!” For example, I could have called and said, “Hey, Tolu, it’s Vera from the office,” and she’d respond by saying, “Tolu speaking!”
It’s been a long time since I’ve heard from Tolu, and it’s easy to remember her fondly now because I no longer have to deal with her. I hope she’s okay. She has probably given birth to more grand babies for Ms. Bridget.
P.S. When the boss heard of her visiting the client’s home to “greet them,” he decided to fire her. I begged on her behalf. She did not get fired.
Tolu oooo. Typical yoruba babe, by force friendship coupled with oversabi. She refused to integrate and learn the culture of her new environment. The visit and greet part plus the grandchild parts are the most annoying. I hope she’s learnt sha. Maybe she just came to Yankee at that time.
Vera, hope this is not her picture sha.
Hahaha. Haba, that’s not her picture. I wouldn’t do that to her! Or to myself. Lol.
BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I just can’t!
Berry Dakara Blog
Lol. Glad you liked it!
i shouldn’t have read this at my desk! i was dying of laughter and trying not to laugh out at all. LMAO! your writing is HILARIOUS!!!
Kai Tolu oo! she probably just arrived at the time! 9ja way is just sweet jare and some of us love it.. lmao… i have had to restrain myself many times from calling my boss “Ma” but kai! LMAO at “your grandson” wharris that??! lmaoooo! too funny!
Nneka, it gives me great pleasure to know that you found this post so funny, you have no idea! Thank you, darling. At my new job, I called my Oyibo Supervisor “Ma’am” because she’s a lot older, but she let me know immediately to just call her by name. Calling a coworker mommy though is just weird.
LOOOL This is too funny. “Tolu speaking” I burst out in laughter at that part, and I’m at work. HAHAHAHAHA
Ife, maybe you should start answering your phone like that oh. Lol. I mean at work sef.
omg! this is my first time here, buh i already love this blog. My God you are so persuasive.
Awwwww. Thanks, Carole!
please please visit my blog http://www.carolesrepublic.blogspot.com and leave a comment
Will do, Carole.
Oh Well, I hope you had a heart too heart talk with Tolu to let intimate her of what was expected of her.
Hilarious her story may be but she might be a fond blog reader and will now be angry you didnt ‘torchlight your story’ .
Who knows? I could be the ‘Tolu’ of my office….. *sigh* LOL!!
Oh Well, I hope you had a heart to heart talk with Tolu to intimate her about what was expected of her.
Hilarious her story may be but she might be a fond blog reader and will now be angry you didnt ‘torchlight your sister’ .
Who knows? I could be the ‘Tolu’ of my office….. *sigh* LOL!!
Oh Well, I hope you had a heart to heart talk with Tolu to intimate her about what was expected of her.
Hilarious her story may be but she could be a fond blog reader and will now be angry you didnt ‘torchlight your sister’ .
Who knows? I could be the ‘Tolu’ of my office….. *Sigh* LOL!!
Oh Well, I hope you had a heart to heart talk with Tolu to intimate her about what was expected of her.
Hilarious her story may be but she could be a fond blog reader and will now be angry you didnt ‘torchlight your sister’ when you had the chance.
Who knows? I could be the ‘Tolu’ of my office….. *Sigh* LOL!!
Nope, I never said anything to her. The boss had a talk with her though. She doesn’t read my blog, I know that much. Well, I hope I know that. If she does read it, then pray for me. And lol at being the Tolu of the office.
Oh Well, I hope you had a heart to heart talk with Tolu to intimate her about what was expected of her.
Hilarious her story may be but she could be a fond blog reader and will now be angry you didnt ‘torchlight your sister’ when you had the chance.
Who knows? I could be the ‘Tolu’ of my office….. *Sigh* LOL!!
hahaha eeeee, lol. poor girl. Vera you are not a good office friend o. you could have told Tolu how to do things in America. this really cracked me up. thanks for putting an afternoon smile on my face
Bea, biko, I was not her office friend oh! I was merely a coworker who happened to be Nigerian. Lol. It was too entertaining, so I couldn’t tell her to stop.
This was hilarious. I’m a Yoruba girl and I can tell you her case is an isolated one.
Thank you, Naija Girl Abroad. I definitely don’t think it’s the norm, but it was just funny. And entertaining, of course.
Vera you cannot make this stuff up. I died of laughter. Which kin “Mommy your grandson is here” or is it the visiting part, or the family problems people knew about cos of hubby coming to pick the paycheck (indirect TMI)…I hope she has learnt her lessons where ever she maybe. Thank God no one even called the cops on her sef.
No, Ola, I most certainly cannot make it up. Lol. She was just such a character, and she wasn’t even trying to amuse me. She cracked me up!
Funny story. I too, don’t like it when some one calls me mommy. I tell them, listen, I am NOT your mummy. Their reply; “but Aunte, you are a mother, nah.” I think some people don’t understand that it is not polite to call someone you are not related to mommy; especially here in the USA. Growing up in Nigerian in the 80’s I cannot remember people calling someone person’s mother mommy. I think this is a recent trend and I detest it with passion.. Some men do that for some obvious reasons… to gently let you know you are old for them..Nonsense… I enjoy your story…
Bess, I never even thought about it that way (being disrespectful to call others your mommy). For me, it’s just weird, as I was never raised that way, but you do raise a valid point. LOL at men saying it to let you know you’re too old. Yeah, I can definitely see that happening. Thank you for enjoying my story, Bess! Hope you come back 🙂
Oh Lord!! I cringed on Tolu’s behalf while reading this! My goodness! Hopefully she’s learnt whats up now and changed! You can take the babe out of Naija but you can’t take naija out of the babe!
Tehehehe. Tola, you’re not alone. Tolu is cringe-worthy.
Hahaha, hi Vera. This is actually my 2nd time commenting here. As hilarious & entertaining as Tolu’s story is, & common amongst us west Africans or Africans, white people do too. I swear, the Tolu of my office is a white lady, who’s a lot older & my coworker . The same day we started work, everyone knew of your personal live, I.e. Her ex husband cheated on her with a stripper & how her twin sons are mentally unstable (& that’s me putting it lightly). She told our boss that she was fat one day & almost got fired. Some people just don’t have filters. Thanks for the laughter. Really love your blog & your friendly .& engaging nature.
Dis Vera woman, you wee nor kee somborri-ooo! Have read so many of your stories already, but this one had me literally gasping for breath! “I sed lemme come an’ greet you peepo!”
Hahahaha. Thank you, Nnamno! This was one of my favorite stories to tell. She was a character, and she was not even trying to be funny. Biko, don’t die of laughter oh! I need you to come back and read some more.
You could have told her what she’s doing is wrong
What if he has fired her now?