British-Nigerian uncultured mix

Some readers may question why I am writing this. I equally have mix feelings but since blogging also has to do with personal diaries, it will be interesting to share not only good moments together, but also nasty situations.

I want to go back in time (a flash back). Back in 1998 while working in Lagos, I met a colleugue (although much older than I am), we became friends and both stopped working 2 years later.

She got married but we remained friends and stayed in touch.

At her wedding in 2001, I was supposed to be her maid of honor but she changed her mind overnight after I told her I wasn't going to buy another wedding dinner dress cause I already made one

But at the wedding, I still played the best friend's role like asking my younger sister to bring all her interesting songs. I even played the couple's special song and till today she doesn't know.

A few years later, I left for France with my husband and to follow up studies; my friend equally left for the UK with her husband some years later.

I learnt she was pregnant after 9 years of marriage. I was overwhelmed with joy and so I asked if I could pay her a visit when she puts to bed and she said: "of course Jenny, you are welcome to my house anytime."
I never bothered to go to UK because I love my life here in France with my sweet hubby and our lovely friends. I went and demanded for a visa, bought a ticket for Newcastle after having consulted her.

With a week student holidays, I headed out for the UK. Arriving at NCL airport and to my bewilderment, no one was there to pick me up as promised.

I called her on the phone and she told me that she utterly forgot, and asked me to pick up a taxi.
At 9pm (UK time), I got a taxi heading to the country side (17 miles from the airport). I arrived at the house only to find myself in front of a non existing address. Cold and hungry, I decided to get me something to eat.

She finally came with her husband Ian and took me to their new home.

At about 1/2 an hour, my friend went in labour; I offered to accompany them to the hospital but Ian rudely refused so I stayed back and worried myself to sleep as to my friend's condition.

In the morning while I was taking my bath, an old woman (in her early 60s) came in and announced to me that her brother demands I leave, that he would not want to meet me in his house.

I got dressed and inquired the how about of 'my friend'. The woman told me that my friend had her baby girl at 7.50am and is fine. So I asked her to say congratulations to her and picked up a taxi back to the airport.
I changed my flight (with extra charges), went to the centre of the city, got a room in a hotel (after 3 hours of search on a saturday evening), then got ready to leave, back to France where men know how to threat a woman, where men don't lord over their wives like they don't have a say, and that their opinions don't count.

Am not going to rule out making friends, but I'll try to make cultured, well educated, well travelled, enlightened and well exposed friends, who know what frienship means, who know how to regard people when they make efforts.

I might understand that Ian Blemings and his wife Eugenia Blemings (my so called friend) need space to savour the happy moment, but I think that they are too uncultured and not well travelled, to understand what courtesy and hospitality is all about.