How are you all doing?
My fellow desperate housewives fans will understand what I mean by Wisteria Lane.
I remember watching the first few episodes of desperate housewives and admiring the lifestyle and the idea of
neighbours. I loved the fact that Bree baked for new neighbours and carried the baked goods over in those mini baskets. I loved that they hung out once a week to play poker and that they were
By the end of the show, Wisteria Lane was the last place o wanted to be. For the context of this blog, I’m referring to it more in relation to the ameborism than the murders or anything else.
So as I said in one of my last blogs, we moved back to London, well, borderline London. I remember the first time I visited he country, my mum would say things like they are not as friendly as we Nigerians that could go to our next door neighbour to borrow some salt when we run out. are things still like that in naija? I soon understood what she meant when I started schooling here and then living by myself. In particular, where we lived before, in the
, where you would expect people to be friendlier, especially as we lived on a compound of about 9 houses. Only our next door neighbour was friendly. He even brought us cherries once from his garden in the summer. Then again, he wasn’t British, he was Romanian and his wife, Russian. The others in the compound were British so it was just the obligatory smile or nods or hello when they see you.
Fast forward to moving back to the
, I thought it would be worse. The first week we moved in, we had builders in repairing everything, from painting to the bathrooms to stripping things down. So I hear this knock and I’m wondering why the builders were knocking so I went to the door and alas, it was a neighbour. She stopped by to say hello and welcome us. She explained she has been living next door for over twenty years, she told me her name, her husbands and kids as well. Welcomed us to come over anytime. Asked what we did for a living, commented on how much with we were doing in the house and gave is a brief description and names of our opposite neighbours. I said thank you and bye when she left.
We got a Christmas card from her family and one from one of the two houses opposite us. We were yet to meet them. They also welcomed us and told us their names and invited us over when we were settled. Of course I gave them cards as well. I thought they were friendly. When the baby arrived shortly after, next door sent us a card, opposite sent us a card as well and a bunch of flowers. I’m thinking oh lovely people. Only wished their kids were young as well so they could play with mine in the future. Their kids are either in university or just graduated.
So the friendliness is lovely.
You know, every street or compound has a chief amebor. When we loved in that compound in the village we had one. When I lived in a compound in Gbagada, eons ago, Alhaji was our amebor. The man lived in the top flat opposite our compound so he could see everything that happened. He would stand on his balcony overseeing us and act like he can’t see what you are doing. I bet you top dollar that when your parents come back from work, he would give them an itinerary of who did what and when. So parents loved him and kids hated him.
So, every neighbourhood has it’s appointed amebor. I have decided the First Lady to welcome us is this street’s amebor. I mean, anytime she sees me on the street, I just want to say hello and go inside but she already has a long list of questions she wants to ask me based on who she has seen in our garden or entering our house. She is lovely though. She always offered to do my grocery shopping for me when we just had the baby. But I always sweetly declined. Before my gist flies. Lol okay jokes aside I didn’t need help.
So, who knows, I might have more wisteria lane gist for you guys the longer we live here. I’m still waiting for my basket of cookies or cakes or something baked sha. I don’t just want gist I want baked goods!
Have a lovely week at work people! I’m enjoying my time off with this cherub!