I really don’t know how many of you have told someone about your dreams from the previous night and they dismissed it as malaria dreams aka nro malaria. I know I have plenty of times.
Before scientists come for my small head, please hear me out. In fact, I only need the input of pastors who understand the fact that dreams (in my case good dreams only) can turn to reality. Unless if it’s malaria dream, then be sure to buy anti-malaria medication
I have heard so much about nro malaria. In fact, I have dreamt about too many things that qualify: business meetings like the ones with Dangote and Alakija; the wealth that rivals that of Oprah and Zuckerberg combined; exquisite cuisine in the best restaurants while meeting with A-list celebrities worldwide. I am talking about chilling with the Kardashians and being Gabrielle Union’s bestie.
The people I have managed to share these dreams with quickly dismiss me, but I have held on to a few, like the business meeting with Dangote, especially now it’s confirmed he is single and searching like me. I have been dreaming these malaria dreams all my life and I have been getting away with it, till I jammed one that has taught me the lesson of my life.
Two weeks after the royal wedding, I went to bed. Luckily for me, PHCN was on their best behavior so everywhere was cold. I guess that’s where my problem started.
I saw myself in London getting ready for the royal wedding because Meghan ( no need for formalities as she was my G) asked me, ordinary Adanna oo, to be a part of her bridal train. As a seasoned bridesmaid, I was out and about getting things ready and making sure everything was on point. In my mind, I was like, no more local brides, please. You know, I am not just international but royalty. Just imagine one village bride calling me with my royal wedding CV. God punish that person abeg.
After all my hard work and arrangement, the D-day came and streets were cleared for the Royals to pass. As I was walking down, I saw Prince William. I don’t remember the exact conversation we had, but he danced with me a little on the street before we made our way to the chapel. I should have known it was a stupid dream at this point, but I refused to wake up.
Finally, inside the church, I realized I wasn’t part of the bridesmaids again and I looked back and saw my cousin Nneamaka and my friend Chinazor laughing at me. I snapped my fingers and was like, Who brought these villagers to the abroad to pour san san in my precious garri. Well, I took it in good faith and with Prince William ogling me at every chance he got, the pain became a lot more bearable. I also got to attend the wedding and didn’t have to watch it on TV like the rest of you average people.
Some days after the wedding, I saw my friend Meghan and quickly confronted her about removing me from her bridal train. She apologized and told me it was because I didn’t send some documents for proper screening and her hands were tied, talking about how things were with the Royals and blah blah blah. She gave me some souvenirs but the villagers rushed me and took some of it. I was still shouting at them when I woke up.
If not that they came, I would still have been with my best friend Meghan, going through her closet and doing royal things. I was mad, but I was comforted by the fact that I didn’t destroy Will and Kate’s marriage. Because, see ehn, with the way he was looking at me, I knew that marriage was headed for the rocks. He’s only human, after all.
I don’t remember how I woke up from that dream, but I am sure I was very angry. So I grudgingly went to say hello to my mum and told her about my dream. She laughed and dismissed it as nro malaria. We both laughed and moved on with our day. A few days later, malaria descended on me and beat me black and blue. By the time I finished my medication and the malaria wasn’t going anywhere, I figured I was paying for Prince William actions as Kate was a mami wata keeping me away from our man. First of all, sis, he came at me.
Anyway! After nine IVs and uncountable pills, I came to the conclusion that mosquitoes are not the only carriers of malaria. My people, malaria can be transmitted via dreams. I have advised my head to stop dreaming about the Royals and it must not let villagers like Nneamaka and Chinazor come anywhere close to my dreams.
I am willing to dream about going to Port Harcourt and storming The BodyShop outlet there and carting away all their amazing products with the attendants smiling while helping me load the trolleys. If this one happens, I think we will be talking about 27 IVs, but I am willing to risk it.
Photo Credit: Dreamstime
I really don’t know how many of you have told someone about your dreams from the previous night and they dismissed it as malaria dreams aka nro malaria. I know I have plenty of times.
Before scientists come for my small head, please hear me out. In fact, I only need the input of pastors who understand the fact that dreams (in my case good dreams only) can turn to reality. Unless if it’s malaria dream, then be sure to buy anti-malaria medication
I have heard so much about nro malaria. In fact, I have dreamt about too many things that qualify: business meetings like the ones with Dangote and Alakija; the wealth that rivals that of Oprah and Zuckerberg combined; exquisite cuisine in the best restaurants while meeting with A-list celebrities worldwide. I am talking about chilling with the Kardashians and being Gabrielle Union’s bestie.
The people I have managed to share these dreams with quickly dismiss me, but I have held on to a few, like the business meeting with Dangote, especially now it’s confirmed he is single and searching like me. I have been dreaming these malaria dreams all my life and I have been getting away with it, till I jammed one that has taught me the lesson of my life.
Two weeks after the royal wedding, I went to bed. Luckily for me, PHCN was on their best behavior so everywhere was cold. I guess that’s where my problem started.
I saw myself in London getting ready for the royal wedding because Meghan ( no need for formalities as she was my G) asked me, ordinary Adanna oo, to be a part of her bridal train. As a seasoned bridesmaid, I was out and about getting things ready and making sure everything was on point. In my mind, I was like, no more local brides, please. You know, I am not just international but royalty. Just imagine one village bride calling me with my royal wedding CV. God punish that person abeg.
After all my hard work and arrangement, the D-day came and streets were cleared for the Royals to pass. As I was walking down, I saw Prince William. I don’t remember the exact conversation we had, but he danced with me a little on the street before we made our way to the chapel. I should have known it was a stupid dream at this point, but I refused to wake up.
Finally, inside the church, I realized I wasn’t part of the bridesmaids again and I looked back and saw my cousin Nneamaka and my friend Chinazor laughing at me. I snapped my fingers and was like, Who brought these villagers to the abroad to pour san san in my precious garri. Well, I took it in good faith and with Prince William ogling me at every chance he got, the pain became a lot more bearable. I also got to attend the wedding and didn’t have to watch it on TV like the rest of you average people.
Some days after the wedding, I saw my friend Meghan and quickly confronted her about removing me from her bridal train. She apologized and told me it was because I didn’t send some documents for proper screening and her hands were tied, talking about how things were with the Royals and blah blah blah. She gave me some souvenirs but the villagers rushed me and took some of it. I was still shouting at them when I woke up.
If not that they came, I would still have been with my best friend Meghan, going through her closet and doing royal things. I was mad, but I was comforted by the fact that I didn’t destroy Will and Kate’s marriage. Because, see ehn, with the way he was looking at me, I knew that marriage was headed for the rocks. He’s only human, after all.
I don’t remember how I woke up from that dream, but I am sure I was very angry. So I grudgingly went to say hello to my mum and told her about my dream. She laughed and dismissed it as nro malaria. We both laughed and moved on with our day. A few days later, malaria descended on me and beat me black and blue. By the time I finished my medication and the malaria wasn’t going anywhere, I figured I was paying for Prince William actions as Kate was a mami wata keeping me away from our man. First of all, sis, he came at me.
Anyway! After nine IVs and uncountable pills, I came to the conclusion that mosquitoes are not the only carriers of malaria. My people, malaria can be transmitted via dreams. I have advised my head to stop dreaming about the Royals and it must not let villagers like Nneamaka and Chinazor come anywhere close to my dreams.
I am willing to dream about going to Port Harcourt and storming The BodyShop outlet there and carting away all their amazing products with the attendants smiling while helping me load the trolleys. If this one happens, I think we will be talking about 27 IVs, but I am willing to risk it.
Photo Credit: Dreamstime
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