Monday, October 5, 2015

The Robot who dressed in Human Flesh

All my life, I see people carry themselves and take actions that make it seem like they have no choice.

People do things to please family, friends, foes, everyone but themselves. We are all aware of the radical decisions people make to please others, but that is not what I want to talk about now. I am talking about simple everyday decisions.

Do you know that choice is not a gift or privilege to you? It is your right as a human being, and you should exercise it every day of your life, knowing that every choice you make has its consequences.
As a child, you have the right to obey or disobey your parents. It is your choice, but you must fully understand the consequence of disobeying your parents. So you can choose to obey them because you understand that the consequence of not doing so will spell doom for your future, not because you are a robot devoid of choice.

As an adult, you have a choice to be lazy or hardworking. You have a right to choose how exactly you want your life to play out. You shouldn’t graduate from school and then look for a job just because society expects you to. You should understand that you have the choice to be a lazy bum just occupying a space on earth, and you must understand the consequence of that choice, which is that you will become no one to be reckoned with, and possibly poverty-stricken, suicidal, and depressed.

Why am I taking this angle?

The lack of understanding of choice and consequences is what has driven so many people to frustration today. People live by the guideline that society has set for them. I have to obey my parents because I was groomed to do so. I have to study hard and excel in school because my parents would like it. I must then get a job because that’s the next thing society expects. I would then get married because well… that’s the next thing on the agenda. I have to slave for a promotion at work or strive for my business to expand because my children have to go to good schools. And so it goes on and on and on. After 50 years, we get a successful but frustrated individual perfectly cooked up in the pressure cooker of ‘societal expectations.’

Do you know what? No you don’t! You don’t have to obey your parents. You don’t have to study hard. You don’t have to get a job. You don’t have to get into a relationship or get married. You don’t have to strive for a better pay. In fact, you would be exercising your right as a human being if you do the opposite of all these. You won’t be doing anything wrong


You must understand the role of choice and consequences. Each choice leads to an outcome, and you must choose wisely. So let’s flip the script a little bit.

I choose to obey my parents because disobeying them would cause my future to be doomed (or earn me serious thrashing if you are an African child, lol). I choose to study hard and excel in school because I understand the role it plays in the opportunities presented to me later on. I choose to get a job or start a business because I understand that I have been placed on this earth for a purpose, and I want that purpose fulfilled before I die. I choose to get married because I understand the role of companionship in the life of an individual, I found someone I love and loves me back, and life would be dreary without him/her. I choose to strive for promotion at work or business expansion because I want a better quality of life, and to give my family the opportunity to make well-informed choices like I have done. I choose, I choose, I choose.

After 50 years, we get an individual who knows that no matter how his life turns out, he can rest knowing that he made his own choices. This individual is bound to be more fulfilled, and would makes less mistakes because his life is well thought out.

I pray that in raising children, parents would explain well the principle of choice and consequence rather than take the because-I-said-so approach, which is what most people do. A child who understands choice and consequence to the tee turns out well in life.

And to the fully-formed adults, let us all drop the I-have-to-do-it attitude we approach life with. No you don’t. You don’t have to do it because it is expected of you. You have a choice. You have a choice. You have a choice.

You don’t have to marry that man. You can wait for a better man, even though you would have to wait a little longer. Why marry into misery?

You don’t have to stay in that job. You can resign, and fulfill your purpose on earth, even though you might have to be broke for a little while, and be more financially prudent. Why live a life of frustration?

You don’t have to join every trend you see in real life or social media even though you don’t understand it. You can choose to stand out of the pack, and be counted for something more reasonable. Why lose yourself just because you want to blend in?

You don't have to go to every friend's house to play and gossip. You don't have to buy that extra Aso Ebi, whether you have a similar colour in your closet or not. Trust me, you would save a lot of time and money by doing these two things. People will laugh at you, insult you, and say all sorts, but remember you have a right to choice. Any other thing is you handing that right over to society.

It is your life. It is not your father’s life, friend’s life, sister’s life, or brother’s life. It is your life!

You are not a robot disguised in flesh. You are a human being.

You have a choice! Exercise it.

Monday, September 28, 2015

Words designed to Intimidate

It's very funny when people size you up and think they can just manipulate you anyhow with words even when they have no point.

My first conscious experience of this was when someone brought his sister to my house. The guy was just tired of working, and didn't know how to say it. So this girl comes, sizes me up in my house maid clothes and funny headgear typical of ladies with natural hair in their comfort zone. Inside my ragged attire was my very small body so she concluded she could intimidate me with words. So she started talking, blasting her British accent cos she just came from England the previous week. She was talking about the fact that her brother was stressed out and all, and they never sought her opinion before allowing her brother work so he would stop working. She was out to intimidate, and she wasn't hiding the fact. When she was done, I asked her two very simple questions.

"Did your brother tell you that I am extremely analytical, and that I am a spoken word artist?"
And with that, I opened my mouth, and shredded all her statements, bullet point after bullet point, using the appropriate words with my very normal accent. After all, I didn't grow up in yankee or jand.

When I was done, she was all "oh, I didn't know so so was the case. He didn't tell me this and that"
She obviously expected me to talk like the tiny illiterate she sized me up to be.

Anyway, I just shook my head. It was her brother I blamed cos we are friends and he knows the way I reason and should have warned his sister.

Last week, someone tried to manipulate me on Facebook. After the punch interview, I got loads of Facebook request. I normally don't accept Facebook requests from people I don't know. It doesn't even matter cos everything I post on Facebook is public (I use social media mainly for publicity) so my Facebook friends don't really have that much advantage over my non Facebook friends. Anyway, 5 days after the interview, I accepted some of the requests mostly from people I have mutual friends with.

Only for me to get a message that
Madam young under-30 entrepreneur Atilola, shey you see somebody cannot like something on your facebook wall now. shey you wee nor accept our friend request ni? ese gaan o
You see this message is typically designed to do something- make you feel guilty. They don't address you directly by your name. That's why she said madam young entrepreneur. She didn't just say Atilola, accept my request. She positioned her words to make me feel like the reason I didn't accept her friend request is because I have been featured as a young entrepreneur. These things are very subtle but they get the job done. They are designed to make you feel guilty, manipulate you and push you into a tight corner.

She didn't even consider that I might not have seen her request or I don't accept random request, which was the case here

The mistake this girl made is that she forgot I'm a spoken word artist and word play is my game. She tried to sell ice to an Eskimo. I don't even know her from Adam. She should have just sent a polite message and I would have started chatting with her in a jiffy but she chose this path instead?

So what did I do to her? I considered replying her to tell her that she could have been more polite about her request instead to trying to be manipulative. But I did what I normally do in cases like this – I ignored the message, and faced my work, hoping she would just leave me alone and realise her error.

Anyway because of these two cases and many more, I wrote this poem below, and it is dedicated to all spoken word artists and everyone whom someone has tried to scam at their own game.

You can fight me with money, knives, guns, wealth, influence or insults
But please don't fight me with words
I am a spoken word artist
I use words to make you laugh, cry, reflect, dance, fall in love, condemn or praise
It is my skill and trade
I do not know how to insult
I detest vulgar language
But I can bend words to do my bidding
They are my weapons
So please don't fight me with words
Cos if you do
It won't be a fair battle, it won't even be a war
It would be cold blood murder!!!

Monday, September 21, 2015

I was called a liar yesterday!

So I was in church by past 8am yesterday when I turned off my data to get last minute emails before I start working when I saw an email from the punch correspondent who interviewed me. She had sent me an email by 7am but I did not see it on time because of church rush.

I started calling people who could buy the newspaper on their way to church so I could take a screenshot and publicise it. It was difficult as everyone was saying they couldn’t get newspaper for one reason or the other, but eventually found someone, and my mind became at rest.

My work started by 8.45 on the dot, and by 9.30am, the person came to me, and explained how he couldn’t get it. By this time, I had to stop myself from panicking cos I did not plan to get home till about 9pm, and by then, the day would be over. I got back to continue my work with the teens.

After teaching/preaching sha, I had like another 45 minutes of rest before my next meeting. It was then that it occurred to me that I should call my mum to get the paper and read the interview. All I needed was for her to see it with her eyes and tell me the page.

I picked my phone, and immediately saw a twitter notification from HoneyDame. I never knew there would be a time HoneyDame would come through for me in a time of emergency, because not only did she notify me of the interview, she had done a screenshot of it. It was as if God told her exactly what I needed at that time, and just told her to do it. I was so excited, though she didn't realise the impact she had on me because there was no way I could have left church to get what I needed.

Courtesy HoneyDame

So I took her screenshot, and used it for publicity, and then called my mum to buy the paper, and keep it for me till I get home at night. By this time, amidst the plenty talk with teens here and there, it was time for the next meeting, and then the next one. By the time I was settled, it was about 2.00pm.
I went straight to my car, got my laptop, and resumed work for the day. I was well prepared cos I had to be at the SheHive open house for young entrepreneurs by 5pm, and there was no way I was going to go to the mainland, and return to the island. And the amount of work waiting for me was just too much. So I stayed back, worked, and left church by 4.30pm. Of course, my car was the only one in the premises, and it is not a small church by any criteria.

I went for the gathering, and finally got home around 8.30pm, and my mum gave me the newspaper. I just took it, kept it aside, and continued working till late. If you didn’t read the interview yesterday for any reason, you can read it online here.

I really wish I could say this stressful weekend was a one-off for me. But my weekends are always packed even though I turn down a lot of appointments. They are far tighter than my week days, even though I don’t even go to social gatherings – no weddings, parties or all that, except I am performing there.

Someone said I lied about the fact that I started with just N3000, while someone commented on Instagram, asking if I am sure about the figure.

This is exactly the mindset that is killing some people in Nigeria. They think they need all the money in the world to start a business. Most of you who read this blog know where African Naturalistas started from, the days of paper stickers and Gbadebo market plastics. We started from NOTHING. I don’t know if people don’t believe in starting small again. They just see businesses that look good on the outside, but they don’t know the beginning story. I don’t even understand why I would go to the pages of newspaper, and lie… as if starting with such a small money would fetch me one medal or something. I think many people just don’t want to accept that they can do so much with very little. I have several businesses I do, and I have not used start up capital for any of them.

The way the world is going now, the creative industry is debunking the whole 'capital' mentality. Don't get me wrong, you might need some investment to expand your business after it gets to a particular level, but not to start afresh.

Secondly, according to my lifestyle, I am very open, and very truthful. It is not because I am saint, but because I generally have no reason to lie about anything or cover up stuff, since I basically have nothing to cover up. I believe once you are not shady, and who you portray yourself to be on the outside is who you really are one the inside, there would be no need for lies.

To everyone who has supported any of my ventures, thank you. Please read the interview here, if you haven’t read it.

HoneyDame, thank you for coming through for me yesterday. You saved my day from getting scattered.

Monday, September 14, 2015

Disobedience temporarily disfigured my face

If you have been following me for a while, you will know that there are some strange things going on with my dental life, and it started right from a very young age.

I first mentioned my open bite on this post, and pointed out that my canine and incisors are practically non-functional. I cannot bite or tear.

The last dentist I saw said that according to science standards, I should have a speech impediment due to the position of my teeth and shape of my dentition. She was very surprised that I could talk properly. If only she knew that not only could I just talk properly, I actually earn part of my income from talking. She said that I shouldn’t bother my head. Ideally it would have required a surgical process spanning over 4 years or so, to correct. I had done some research on that surgery two years ago, and I knew I couldn’t go through it cos it would kill my career

I guess the talker in me would not be stopped when at the age of 5, my grandmother noticed that my teeth wouldn’t close. At that little age, the fighter in me learnt how to distort her lips, roll or flatten her tongue to get every word out, just like a person blessed with normal dentition. I do it so well that you might have to capture me speaking in a picture or intentionally look at mouth while I am talking before you see the magic being performed, lol. Even my mum never noticed the disorder until she watched me on TV, which is strange considering the fact that I have been this way since about 5 years old.

I am not that child that falls sick or gives her parents the usual medical problems, but when it comes to dental issues, you don’t want to try me, even though I don’t have a sweet tooth. I have replaced a tooth, filled a tooth, removed a tooth, and even had impacted 8 surgery where I was operated upon live, with my jawbone drilled into, tooth removed, and gum sewed back - the worst experience of my life, that I would never wish on my worst enemy.

Anyway, after my last dental appointment last year, when I went to replace my tooth, and opted for a silver crown, the dentist warned me not to eat with one side of my mouth, in order to avoid being disfigured because of lack of mouth exercise, which is a condition normally noticed in people that have gone through similar procedures.

I thanked her, and assured her that I would heed her warnings.

I won’t lie. It was difficult. I just couldn’t bring myself to eat with the left side of my mouth, and after 1 week or so, I gave up.

Exactly a year later, while rehearsing in front of the mirror, I felt something was wrong with my face while I was talking, but dismissed it since I have always had to distort my mouth in order to correctly get the words out.

A few days later, I appeared in the picture below. One look at it, and I knew there was fire on the mountain.

See my normal smile below

Now, look closely at my face 2 weeks ago
Update: I had to highlight the picture to capture the difference cos some people said they didn't notice any difference, even though it was glaring to me, lol.

The facial muscle on the left had fallen, and my smile and lips was tilted to one side. There was absolutely no cheek raise because the musles couldn't be lifted again

I was getting disfigured, and I didn’t even know it. My one year of negligence and stubbornness was telling on me. It was like a slow fade effect that comes stage by stage, that you won’t even know when it is happening. I started to panic immediately. My facial muscle on the left had obviously fallen due to lack of usage. I didn’t want to be disfigured.  At least, now, I am the only one who noticed. Another six months of negligence, and it would have been deliverance session for me, lol.

I called the dentist immediately, and she told me what to do. Things are getting better, the muscles have lifted a bit, but not as high as they should be. The smile of mine that I never really appreciated has now become gold to me, now that I know it is possible to lose it.

As from today, I will never ignore my dentist’s advice. Who wants to go about with a permanently damaged smile?

Monday, September 7, 2015

Anything for the Boys?

I got back home from church on a demanding but very fruitful Saturday. I had gone early morning to inspect the presentation of some teenagers I trained on spoken word for a mentorship camp, while my students in church were waiting for me. I quickly ran to church and we did our spoken word rehearsals for a final presentation that was supposed to happen in service the next day.

By this time, I was already absent for the Bible boot camp we organised for our teenagers, where we were talking about the influence of music and media. I quickly finished up my rehearsals and went for the boot camp, where I tried to do some regulations, and looked for a little trouble. After, I had to run to Tomi Akibo’s house for an apology visit because I missed her wedding (due to work at church).  I then quickly ran home to sort myself out. I had two presentations in two different services the next day. I was basically praying for magic powers to help me split myself into two.

I got home, and someone packed insanely in the middle of the road, such that I couldn’t enter my house, and then my brother blocked the gate!

I was like “whaaaaattt? After such a day, this is the time for me not to be able to enter my house with peace of mind.” So I was stuck in the middle of the road. I got down, and thankfully I saw the road blocker, and begged him to remove his car, while I went to my brother’s friend’s house to call my brother to remove his own car. Nobody answered my knocks, so I walked back to my car, so I could get my phone to call my brother when it happened.

One of the neighbourhood carpenters who sometimes does menial jobs for me walked up to me, and said “se ki n wa?” should I come?

I said “fun kini?” for what?

He said “Fun nkan weekend.” For weekend things

I said in yoruba, “guy, is it not money we are all working for?” I was already getting pissed that I wasn’t able to reach my brother.

Immediately, the second guy, who I happened to call Uncle something cos we basically grew up in the same neighbourhood before he left and built his family, and had now come back to become a nuisance, said in a toutish “Emi nko. Ti o ba tie se weekend fun owun, sebi was a fun emi, egbon e?”
What of me? At least, if you don’t do weekend for him, you will give me, your senior.

I was boiling at this point, thinking “what do these people think of me? That I am father Christmas, or I just go out on weekends, and return with money?”

I said “nkan weekend wo?” what weekend thing?

The 40 something year old guy said “O ni lo o ti o ba se weekend fun mi.” You won’t leave if you don’t do weekend for me

I said “Okay, e duro sibe.” Wait there. And I basically, walked away, extremely annoyed. Yes, I walked away.

Bill Cosby Disdain
I was like this guy is not even ashamed to harass me for money. This guy was a full grown adult when I was celebrating my second birthday o. He doesn’t even know how I hustle from money to night to get money.

Anyway, I finally got my brother to remove his car, and packed properly in the house, totally ignoring the man, like he wasn’t even there.

So my first question is how do you deal with people who just walk up to you because they know you, and ask you for money just because they saw you, and no other reason?

Another thing is few weeks ago, I had the fantasy that I must change my car because I felt I saw a good deal, and I had always wanted a jeep. My brother said I shouldn’t get the car, the parts are expensive, it chops fuel, bla bla bla. He said I should get a smaller car. I said I wanted a big car. So after all the back and forth, I decided that I wasn’t getting any new car because the truth is I want a new car, but I don’t need a new car for now.

So imagine me driving that big car I fantasised about, and these people saw me. They basically have the feeling that I have hit jackpot somewhere, not considering how long I drove my old car, and how long I saved for a new one.

Once you drive a big car, you must be stinkingly rich, and ready to give them free money. If you don’t give them, then you must be stingy. It doesn’t matter how much responsibilities you have.

So my second question is how do you enjoy your climb on the ladder of success without everyone around you thinking you are a wicked person for not dishing a slice of the cake to them?

Monday, August 31, 2015

Close Shaves Series – part 7. The Internet Plan story

So I was going to church on Saturday morning to teach my students as usual, with one of them beside me in the car when we got talking about mobile internet. I can’t remember how we got to that point but I told her there’s this plan airtel is doing where all the chats are for free, and she gets free calls, texts, etc. I told her the details are on my phone but I didn’t want to show her cos I don’t like bringing my phone out while driving.

By this time, we were on Ozumba, and had slowed down because of the traffic light. I looked around, and said “what the hell? Let me just bring the phone out of my middle compartment, that nothing would happen. So when the car in front of me moved forward a bit, I didn’t move, but instead bent my head to get the phone.

I immediately looked back up and saw a car come from nowhere on the second or third lane, and drove headlong into the space I had left in front of me, to the point of climbing the kerb the streetlight was planted in.

It was just a split second, and that car would have crashed into my car with that much force, and crushed my student first, and then me. I had just avoided a major accident just because I bent my head down to look at my middle compartment.

My student and I were visibly shaken, and knew it was just God. I had left just enough gap for the car to crash in front of me, such that though it was right in front of my windscreen, it didn’t even touch my car one bit, though it grazed the car previously in front of me just a little bit.

Till now, I still don’t know where the old Mercedes benz came from, or if it happened because its breaks failed, or it lost control, but I know God saved me. Imagine my RIP pictures all over social media, God forbid.

I immediately drove away from the scene, and it wasn’t until two days later it occurred to me that I should have taken pictures. It was so traumatising that I didn’t even want to stay there for just one more second.

The funny thing is that up till today, I still haven’t shown my student the message about the internet on the phone. I never brought out that phone from the middle compartment. It definitely was just a diversion by the Holy Spirit.

God saved me once again. The devil has tried, but he has failed – once again.

You can read my other close shave with death experiences here.

Monday, August 24, 2015

How Constant Power Supply will drive us to tears

I am not one to joke about the state of Nigeria’s problems, but I just couldn’t resist. A lot of thought were going through my mind recently when people said they’ve been having better power supply. All through that period, I was fuming because we didn’t have light for two weeks due to our transformer blowing.

After it was fixed, they resumed their normal ‘two days on, one day off’ power rotation. And they still take light periodically during the two days o.

Anyway, from people’s comments after few days of good power supply, this is what I project Nigerian’s reactions if we had constant power supply for the following numbers of days.

1 day : “this phcn, their head is correct.”

2 days:  “wow, so phcn can be nice like this.”

3 days:  “hmm, phcn what is happening o?”

5 days:  “phcn, it is okay. We have enjoyed the light enough. All our gadgets are now fully charged. You can take your light again.”

1 week: *Nigerians are rolling their eyes in suspicion*

2 weeks: “This is definitely a set up for a big conspiracy phcn is planning against us.”

1 month: "Seriously phcn, e don do. We now agree you exist and are effective. Point noted. We will never doubt your abilities again."

2 months: *people are losing their minds. “PHCN please, take the light. We are not used to this. We can’t handle this torment anymore. Pleeeaaaassseee.”


5 months: *Nigerians are freezing cold, and walking around in winter jacket. Every single thing is working*

1 year: *Nigerians constantly being discharged from hospital after being treated for recurring shock.

So what do you guys think? Am I right in my reaction projections? I am not sure about us making it to one year without uninterrupted power supply in the next 10 years.

As at now, I can’t even remember us having 3 days uninterrupted power supply in Lagos for the past 25 years. So 1 week is being too optimistic for now.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Modern Day Religious Manipulations

So sometime recently my mum came to meet me, and said one pastor said everyone in my family should come together and pray for three hours every night for one month or so. She said something like the theme is ‘moving forward.’

So we looked at each other, and burst into laughter. I said three hours?

How are supposed to gather EVERYONE for THREE HOURS, EVERY NIGHT?

She said she told the person it won’t be possible, that she will pray what she can pray, and tell me, so I can do the remaining, since I pray for long hours every evening, anyway.

I asked my mum. “So, if we don’t do up to three hours, God will not answer our prayers?”

Needless to say, this was where the conversation died.

I have come to the level where all these ‘spiritual manipulations’ disguised with good intentions on the road to breakthrough don’t move me one bit anymore. I have too much experience for all that crap to work on me. If you find yourself been bounced around by all these hullabaloo, even as a Christian, it is not because you are bad or weak. It is just a sign of a troubled and restless spirit.

Trust me, I have been there.

Gone are the days when religious manipulators came in celestial white garments, and ask you to drink and bathe in holy water. That is just old school. No one would ask you to go to bar beach again. Fashola and Tinubu have reduced their market with the whole Eko Atlantic Beach thing. The 7 Broomsticks-beating times are over, as it doesn’t appeal to the elite. It is a whole new game now.
The spiritual manipulators of these times are very cunning. They are in every church, and they prey on the weak and troubled. And they can catch anybody, no matter how strong.

Here goes my own personal experience.

There was a time in my life when everything around me was crumbling. I lost things most important to me, and I basically thought I could not move on without recovering them. I was weak, tired, and just wanted my life to be over. This is that period in your life when your friends and family just keep looking at you and praying for you to recover because they know there’s basically nothing within their power they can do to help you get back up again. Even my pastor kept praying for me and encouraging me. Still, it wasn’t enough. I wanted a quick-fix solution.

That’s how I went to look for trouble when I agreed to see one of my aunt’s pastor in a redeemed church. She said he’s a prayer warrior, and very effective. I went to see him. In fact, the drama in the church that day made me laugh so much that I immediately wrote this post, The God of Visas, and blogged about it. Read it here. Anyway, I finally got to meet this pastor. I should have suspected him because it looked he was just a worker in the church. He immediately scolded me for questioning God, and asked me to start fasting again for 21 days (I had just concluded a personal fast). He said he will be sending daily prayer points, bla bla.

After about 10 days, I sent him credit because my aunt said I should send him credit since he is sending me prayer points. I sent him 1500 twice in the period of 21 day. Even though a text message costs N4.00, it was nothing to me. I mean he was specially interested in me, right? Never mind that I already had hundreds of prayer points and declarations I had prepared for myself. After all, I was the one looking for fast solution.

Anyway, after the 21 days was over, this pastor will call and pray for me well, and ask me to send him credit. The first time, I did it, but with raised eyebrows.

One morning of a week day, he called me and asked him to send him credit. Unfortunately, I was in Nnewi, in a remote area. The company my firm had sent our team to go and clean up their accounts temporarily lodged us in one of the CEO’s guest houses, and we were surrounded by bushes. So I told the pastor I couldn’t get credit, explaining the situation of things to him.

He kept insisting I go out and buy the credit, or find someone to send to get the credit, because he doesn’t understand how someone like me won’t have access to credit. I was irritated, and immediately decided to cut him out of my life.

I stopped picking his calls, apart from one time I picked by mistake because he called my second line.

I told my aunt what happened, and she apologised saying she didn’t know he was like that, and would report him in the church.

So these are the signs of such people

They are very manipulative, starting and ending calls with prayers God did not send them to pray for you. They never run out of prophesies.

They will usually send you prayer points, and tell you they are praying for you too.

They will make you dependent on them totally. This is a strategy, because if things begin to turn around for you, you will always attribute it to the fact that “That pastor can pray o. Ha, he is a powerful man of God.” And then you will eventually turn the pastor to your God, and start giving him whatever he asks for.

If you meet any pastor who doesn’t encourage you to study the word yourself, and find God yourself, RUN!

They usually don't have any full time job or full time ministry, and prey on mostly the working class society.

Most times, they are formulaic/numerical in their approach. Fast for 21 days. Pray by 6pm and 11pm everyday. Pray for 2 hours. Shout Hallellujah 7 times for 7 days at the 7th hour. They lack creativity, and their approach doesn't give room for the Holy Spirit to do His thing, seeing He cannot be confined to formulas and numbers.

They are in every church, EVERY CHURCH - Catholic, Pentecostal, Celestial, Redeemed, Winners, Baptist, CAC, Methodist – you name it, you will find them there.

Beware of them. I believe I was able to see him for who he was because I was already strong spiritually before I got into trouble, but only got caught in my weak moment. Some people are not so lucky, and end up being lifetime victims of the greedy posers in the kingdom of God.

On the flipside, don’t stop going to church because of these wolves in sheep's clothing. See my reason below

Monday, August 10, 2015

Children, listen to your Teachers

Haaaa, I can't even laugh. Last post's designer word play challenge made me learn many things.

1. Smartness - Some people are so smart that they pick out answers to problems that the teacher never even thought about. Many people picked designers I never thought of, while some manufactured their own so they could make up 24.

2. Copy Copy - What did they teach us about not dubbing other people's work in school again? Some people just copied and other people's works and added one or two more, such that they copied the wrong answers.

So these are some of the non-existent answers that you really smart people gave me. Fortune, Ted Baker, Bakers, Amy Butler, Desire, Delicious, Victoria Beckham, Helm boot, Dorothy Schoelen. Thanks for really trying.

So here are the answers.

Next Christmas
H and M
Michael Kors
Victoria’s secret
House of Fraser
United colours of Benetton
Forever 21
Baby phat
Calvin klein
River island
Dorthy perkins
Ralph lauren

I am really sorry about this, when I saw the different answers, I determined to give whoever got a minimum of 21, especially seeing I actually had 23, not 24. Unfortunately, the two highest got 20 out of 23, so I am keeping the mixit jewelry for the next giveaway. The reason I can't give it out is because there was more than one person who improvised and came up with new designers, and I have just one pack.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Shop through my punchline story, and win a jewelry set

Hello dearies. How are you all doing? I am sorry I am putting you through this. I was just playing around, and I thought it would be nice to have you all join me in this erepa of words. Below is a short story. I have used major clothing brands/stores/ideologies many of us wear to form the story. There are 24 brands hidden and not-so-hidden in the story. You are to find as many as possible, and list them in the comment section. I will ship a box of Mixit jewelry I got from JC Penny to whoever gets all the 24 wherever you are in the world. You have just one week, i.e. this opportunity ends next Monday, 10th August by 10.59am GMT+1. Please, let's make it fun. Even if you don't know all 24, just put all the ones you got in the comment box. Whatever happens, just make sure you read, lol.
Your time starts now. You guys are darlings.


Baker Helmz and Butler Mauritz knew Victoria’s secret was to remain forever 21. I don’t know how possible it is because even her older cousin, Zara had earlier realised that clothes revealing her persistent baby fat were no longer appropriate for the office. When Calvin cleanly revealed this gap to her, she threw tantrums and isolated herself to the River Island where she met Dorothy, perkin’ away in order to attract the attention of Ralph so they could elope together to the oasis. Victoria’s guess was that Dorothy’s effort was futile, seeing Ralph was already engaged to Lauren, the daughter of Mr Selfridge, and his eyes were set on her fortune.

Her countenance was uplifted, knowing her plight was not as hopeless as that of Dorothy, so she decided to cheer herself up by going to Dr Fraser’s house to hang out with her lover, Michael, cause she knew he would understand the reason for her strong desire to remain as youthful and bright as a peacock. He had always read her poems of how her love united the colors of his dull heart, making it more beautiful than Mayor Bennetton’s flower garden.

After sometime, they binged on the great Mr Ben’s hams, which proved to be a source of delicacy. At the end of the day, after playing several games of polo, Victoria was hopeful again. She then decided that she was going to save her almost impossible wish as her next Christmas request.

Monday, July 27, 2015

How to fight dirty in the Information Age

Have you ever been cheated in a business transaction, by a business colleague? Has any business ever taken you for granted, and basically called your bluff because they felt you were a dog with a mere bark, and no bite? Do you have a strong social media presence, then let me teach you how to fight.
How do you like my pitch? Oya, straight down to business.

I am not ordinarily one for public shaming, especially since I know it is not cool to be a victim. However, I have now come to realise that sometimes, we must engage in public shaming, not because of any desire to humiliate or disgrace, but because sometimes, we must protect ourselves, warn other people, and send a message to people that they cannot just to things to others and think they would get away with it because their hands are tied. Now, I understand what Okechukwu Ofili must have felt when he called out Silverbird bookshop and other major bookshops in Nigeria who had been ripping off self-published authors because they had no one to stand up for them.

I started engaging a certain man, who we will call Mr C, when my herbs supplier in India introduced him to me as the man who could ship my herbs from India. She had gotten his contact online, through his website – another reason I think this medium is most appropriate since there are others like me who might make the mistake of trusting in his credibility after meeting him online.

After some calculations, and consulting with his colleagues in India, it was agreed that I would have to pay something close to 300 dollars to ship and clear my herbs. My supplier shipped the herbs to his Indian colleague. He asked me to pay 200 dollars, which I did in a matter of hours.

I was really eager to collect my herbs last year October, as I knew I would be travelling soon. He kept promising me my products. Let’s just say that between then and now, I have travelled to 5 different countries, yet he never brought my products to me.

It started with the story of the fact that some airlines were rejecting the herbs because powders required more scrutiny in Nigeria, which I completely understood, though my frustration knew no bounds.

Then the lies started. “The powders have been shipped. No, they were not shipped, NAHCO strike is affecting it. The warehouse has been locked for days. Christmas problems. New Year problems. Election problems.”

Through it all, I stayed calm. Mostly because I had no choice. The goods were with them, and my money was with them.

Some weeks after election, I got frustrated, and decided to call his Indian colleague. I found out this colleague was in Nigeria, and had been here for quite a while. He had dumped my package with another colleague of his there. That one had hustled to ship the herbs, and it had been here – since January!!!

I couldn’t believe my ears. This was a transaction I started since last year September, that was supposed to take few days. And this was now April.

To cut the long story short, the Indian counterparts asked Mr C to bring 510 dollars to clear the products. Mr C seemed to be fuming because we felt that was just too outrageous to clear products worth about N40,000.00. He said he would keep pricing it, and by this time I was getting impatient.

Anyway, two days later, Mr C said he doesn’t want to use his own personal issues to disturb me, that I should go and clear the herbs myself. He said he would return my 200 dollars. This was in April. I asked which personal issues. He said “I told you my father died. We are doing the funeral in the village.”

It was at this point my countenance towards him changed. He had told me about three weeks earlier that his mother died, and he went to bury her. Now, he was lying that it was his father.

Let’s just say between then and now, it has been a deluge of lies, avoidance, and more lies. He later begged to return N40,000.00 instead of 200 dollars, to which I agreed. The most painful part was that if Mr C didn’t pay the money, how would I take 510 dollars to clear those herbs? It would amount to me using 710 dollars to clear the herbs, and my loss would be massive.

After waiting and waiting and waiting, with more tons of promises, lies, and lies, and lies, I finally decided to clear the herbs myself, without informing Mr C. I did this because I didn’t know the reputation of the agent they had given my herbs to, if they would just dump them somewhere once they don’t see me. And most importantly, the herbs had been there since January. I had bought them since last year September, and they had expiry dates. I couldn’t let Mr C’s fraudulent character kill my own business demands.

On the day I cleared the herbs, Mr C paid me N10,000. Maybe in his mind, he felt he has paid me my money because since then, he has gone from lies and pleas to even raking for me. He just keeps saying “I will pay this week. I will pay next week.” I think because he believes it might not be a lot of money, I will get tired and leave it for him. But the truth is that it means, the loss I am already incurring would even be more.

And he was right in his thought. I got tired. This whole affair had gone on for too long – almost a year! Trust me, what I wrote here is a serious understatement of the real story. The full story will just be too long.

So what did I do? I decided to call Mr C out online, since the internet it where he gets his customers. So I wrote a full blog post like the one you read above, but I included his name, company, website, picture, etc.

I ended with this… “Don’t ever patronise Mr C. He is a liar, cheat, and a fraud! He takes advantage of the fact that people have no way of lashing and fighting back. Many times, he likes to play smart, but he is not that smart. Everyone who imports should stay far away from this man. I have decided to add his picture, in case his current company runs down, and he decides to set up another company.”

And then I sent the blog post to his email, telling him that the only reason he tried this nonsense with me is because he doesn’t know me and my reputation on social media. I told him he had till Monday morning 11.00 am to pay me my money, or the blog post would automatically appear. I would never take it down, unless the money was paid. Anyone who searches for his company would see the blog post. I then scheduled the post to appear at the promised time.

Of course, he knew I wasn’t kidding because I had already done the blog post. If I had gone to that length, then I couldn’t be bluffing.

As usual, he started agitating, and making promises. I didn’t even say anything, and never called him or made a request. Let’s just say that two days later, I received my money.

And that, my friends, is how to fight a battle in this age, without lifting a finger.

Monday, July 20, 2015

Ere's Secret by Firi Kamson

Finally  Ere's Secret is available for pre order on all platforms, from Barnes and Noble to amazon uk, us and canada. and yes our very reliable smashwords.

Yippee Finally…. Ere’s secret by Firi Kamson is available for pre-order on all the platforms from AMAZON to Barnes and Noble.

The book blurb

"I have a secret.
In three days, i'll be turning 40 and i'm in love for the first time. decades ago, i sacrificed my life for the good of my family. but tragedy struck too close to home, reminding me of the brevity of life. Noe i have a choice to make: continue living in the shadows of allow my true self to emerge'.

Ere's Secret promises to be an interesting and easy read, and yes it takes us a while before we discover what the secret it.

About the author:

 Firi kamson was born in Nigeria, where she grew up. Becoming a lawyer, a writer and a pilot was her childhood dream. She dropped the lawyer part and got a B.A. in foreign languages and literature specializing in french. Worked as a freelance translator and a photographer for a couple of years before she decided to explore the creative world of writing. She writes a column for, as Tee, an online Nigerian based magazine, where she journals her experiences in South East Asia. The dream of becoming a pilot is still there and who known one day it would be fulfilled. she lives in South East Asia with her nerdy husband and very active daughter and son. Ere's Secret is her first book.

Free copies available. to get a free copy share this blog post on your Facebook wall, twitter page, leave your email address and we would get back to you. hurry up while offer last. winners would be chosen randomly.

Monday, July 13, 2015

One more Blog Post

In the middle of the pain
We will act like nothing is wrong
We will smile when we get to church
Not the regular smile
We will find a way to fake a duchenne one
We will pull our pastor into a corner
Cry on his shoulders
Telling him of how lonely and hollow we feel
How he beat us again
After collecting our money again
How we are miserable again
Because no man looked our way or complimented us again
We would come out of the corner with smiles plastered on our face
After our pastor has dried our tears with his expensive suit
He doesn’t mind that we ruined it with our tears
It sure looks like the one we bought him from Selfridges on our last vacation
Similar to the one we would buy him from harrods on our next vacation
We run home, flip open our laptops
We will write one more blog post

But for now, we would hold our head high
We would tweet
We would act like our lives are perfect
We will not give in to the depression
We will write one more blog post

… A blog post about depression
How it is a cancerous disease that affects other people
Especially pretentiously happy celebrities
Robbin’ Williams of his last comic act
But would never touch ordinary people like us with a bargepole

We would post joyful-sounding status on facebook
Our best friend will ‘like’ our status
We would smile a knowing smile
Knowing she was the one who stayed awake all night to counsel us after he broke our heart once again
Her ‘likes’ really meaning “I know your secret, but I’ll just pretend with you on social media
And if that’s what you want
I will even comment when you write…
One more blog post”

We would go on Instagram
We would check out pictures
We would like pictures
We would post pictures
Pictures of us standing side by side with the source of our pain, swollen faces and bleeding hearts
People will check out our pictures
They would like our pictures
Each click of like generating a smile
Like a directly proportional equation
Till our smiles previously fake are forced into being real
We would lie on our beds once again
Heads on pillow, edges of our lips gradually curving concavely
Smiles turned to frowns turned to tears turned to regrets
Till our eyes close, and our hearts pray they never open again

The blessings of God disappoint us and the morning sunshine wakes us up
We have come to hate our lives
The cycles of pretence eroding the sanity of our moral uprightness
But for now
We must facebook, we must tweet, we must post pictures on Instagram.
We must open our laptops
We must write one more blog post

Monday, July 6, 2015

Inner Court of Relationships

Don’t be deceived by the first two paragraphs, this is not a religious post. Just stay with me, I am going somewhere.

Remember in the Old Testament, the temple had the outer court, inner court and holy of holies. Your level with God basically determined the areas you had access to. Almost everyone was limited to the outer court, which is where people offered sacrifices, and most of the general activities happened.

Some of the people who served at the temple were in the inner court, and they were all Levites, the tribe God specifically chose to serve Him. Then only one person was allowed into the holy of holies, and that was the high priest. Before he can enter, he must be clean and have made some atonement. He must be deemed blameless and sinless in the sight of God. Anything short of this, and he will be struck dead if he enters the presence of God. That is why they always tie a rope to the leg of the high priest so that if he is struck down, the Levites in the outer court can pull him out since they cannot enter the holy of holies.

As human beings, we also have different levels of access in our lives. We have our outer court, inner court, and holy of holies. When we meet people, it is just natural that they be in our outer court for a while, and depending on the level of the friendship that evolves, they graduate to the inner court, and very few people get to the holy of holies. Some people will forever remain in the outer court, and some will graduate to the inner court faster than others.

Pains and betrayals that occur in our lives basically happen when people in our lives have access to courts they have no business having access to. Imagine someone who is supposed to be in our outer court being in our holy of holies. It is madness for someone to meet us yesterday and call him our best friend tomorrow.

We are most guilty of this in relationships. We meet a guy today, start tripping and even when the guy hasn't worked hard to gain our trust, we give our whole heart to the guy. When the guy walks out of our lives, or doesn't give us what we expect, and we become so heartbroken. This happened because we let people into spaces in our hearts they have no business being. And I am not even talking about sex here. I am talking about our vulnerabilities, our care, our passion, love, deep-seated feelings, etc. We need to reserve them for guys and ladies that have at least made it to the inner court. At least, we can hold them accountable in case of any mess ups.

We need to let people prove themselves. Failure to guard our hearts will lead to continual disappointment and eventually, bitterness.

This does not give us the license to be cold to people. We need to be warm and friendly, but be wise to watch how we let people into intimate areas of our lives. Don't just hand the keys to every tom, dick and harry you see in the outer court.

I once heard of a woman who went to her fiance’s house, and got talking to his parents. She came from a very dysfunctional family. She started telling them negative realities about her family, parents, siblings, etc. Basically, she downloaded her family history for them. The intended in-laws were just looking and smiling. Immediately she left, they told their son “you cannot marry her!”

Did she lie? No! What did she do wrong? She gave information meant for people in the holy of holies to people in the outer court. And the in-laws, either out of disgust for the dysfunction or fear that she would be divulging their own family secrets to outer court people when she marries into their family, gave her the boot.

Let us assess our relationships today, and properly determine what court each of them belong to, and then give away information accordingly. Only by this would we be able to save ourselves from serious trouble in relationships.

So what do you guys think?

Monday, June 29, 2015

My Baffling Instagram Relationship

So I've been on Instagram for about a month, and I'm not sure how to describe my feeling about it. My refusal to join for a very long time was as a result of so many things including the fact that I hardly take pictures and its promotion and encouragement of narcissism.

Sometime last month, I just had this inexplicably urge to open an Instagram account even though I had absolutely no idea of what I would post on it. I informed Berry about the urge, and she basically asked me to just go ahead and open it.

So I opened the account and posted a flyer of one of my speaking engagements at oriental hotel. I followed some friends on Facebook and before I could say jack, got some decades of followers.

Right from them, I have observed some things about Instagram, and this is what I plan to share.

Instagram is too expensive to maintain, like a greedy mistress. It embezzles all my data without a care in the world. So after a week of being on it, I began to blame myself for getting on it in the first place.

Selfies and posies get the best likes. For every like you get on a quote picture, you can get 20 likes for selfie, posie picture or pouting pictures. So if you are more concerned about likes, go the route of narcissism. This was an issue for me because of course, I don't take pictures. So I have decided to accept that I won't have many likes. It is fine.

The only pictures I actually go out of my way to take are pictures of my food. I am a bit adventurous with food, but I'm not a foodie, if you get what I mean. I am an extreme healthy food enthusiast, and I like to make cheap food with whatever is readily available, yet not be boring. I therefore take pictures to keep records. I have loads and loads of pictures of my food. So once in a while, I post pictures of these on Instagram, letting people know they can have cheap healthy food right in their houses. These pictures also get more likes than the quotes.

When it occurred to me that I will have to find something worthwhile to do with my Instagram account since I'm not a posie, and not exactly a foodie, I decided that it was best to put out my own intellectual property, in form of pictures. So I started making my pictures right from the scratch, using excerpts of my spoken word performance. This for me is the most genius thing I have ever done with the IG account, because I believe they are actually spoken word lines that jump at the reader and they have a strong message. Unfortunately, these get the least likes.

I was baffled at first. I thought it was something I was doing wrong. It was later I realised it was just the way it was. People would rather like a selfie than a quote. Most people don't go on Instagram to read, they just want to see another picture of a pretty face. Anyway I have decided to just be myself and keep posting my excerpts. If I do anything else, I'm sure I will shut the account down in less than 24 hours.

As for me, what kind of pictures do I like on Instagram? Since, I am more about content, I like pictures that have a clear message. Be it a quote, food, selfie, posie, once it has a clear message, I'm game. So I'm the kind of person who will like a picture with someone dancing with one leg over his head than with him just posing for the camera, because he is sending me a clear message that he is crazy and carefree.

Basically, if it speaks to me, I like it. If it's just another picture in the world of pictures, I will pass.

So here's what I learnt from Instagram. I will rather be myself than gun for likes. Narcissism is like greed. It can never be fed full. The more you get, the more you will want. It is best not to even go down that road. It's not cool to be that person who would take a million selfies just to gain approval on Instagram, but if it’s your cup of tea, be my guest.

In the meantime, I will keep doing what suits me, whether I get likes or not, and that is to picturise my excerpts.

So after all said and done, please follow me on Instagram by clicking here or searching hattylolla001, and you will see pictures like the one below. Please let me know what you think about my pictures below.

Monday, June 22, 2015

Have you visited my Hair Clinic?

Okay, so you didn’t know?

... that I have a hair clinic... Or did you?

Did you know I am a certified and board-accredited trichology practitioner? Did you know that I have a hair clinic called African Naturalistas Hair Consult?

I am glad to inform you that help is finally here in Nigeria for all your hair and scalp diseases and disorders.

Aren’t you tired of asking people for solution to your disorders, but they cluelessly recommend a mixture of castor and coconut oil without even any adequate assessment or diagnosis as to determine whether the disorder is fungal, hormonal, mechanical or more?

Over the years, we realised that some men, women and children are too embarrassed to seek help for their hair and scalp disorders, and would rather hide it under a wig because they feel too ashamed or that no one would understand. You need to understand that whatever problem you are having, your case is not an isolated one.

At African Naturalistas Hair Consult, we diagnose and treat or manage over 50 hair and scalp disorders including
  • all forms of alopecia
  • chronic dandruff
  • scalp psoriasis
  • diffuse thinning
  • telogen effluvium
  • seborrhea and seborrheic dermatitis
  • trichotillomania
  • and so much more than we can name.

With our expertise in trichology, we work closely with our clients, putting their needs and comfort first, ensuring that your goal to having a healthy hair and scalp is a reality.

Even if you don't have any scalp or hair shaft disorder, high chances are that you know one or two people who do. Tell them about us today

Our services include

In depth scientific consultation which is tailored to get the history of the client in relation to the hair and scalp disorders. We would assist in identifying the problems, cause and necessary corrections and recommendations. This in-depth trichology consultation is extremely important for clients experiencing hair loss, scalp discomfort, thinning, etc

High frequency treatment which is a treatment without side effects, and can be done for any length or period of time. We make use of the glass rake to emit light, heat, energy and ozone and apply to the scalp. High frequency machine is used in treating dandruff, hair thinning, and baldness.

For more information or booking enquiries, call 07061141501 or send an email to or watch the short video from me, below.

So that’s the drill. You guys should patronise or tell people who need my services to patronise me o. If you don’t ehn, I will come cap I hands, asking you for financial contribution, in order to recoup all the money I spent going back to school at my old age to become a trichology practitioner.

Monday, June 15, 2015

I never thought I'd be one of them

Do you remember when you were younger, and you asked some people if you could offer them a particular food to eat, and they go “No, thank you. I don’t eat eggs.” And then you are trying to mask your irritation saying “You don’t eat egg? Who doesn’t eat eggs?”

Because they are not discerning enough, they go further to increase your annoyance by saying “Yes o. I am very picky with food. I don’t even eat yam, I don’t eat eba. I can only eat fish when it is fried. If I see onions swimming in any stew, I cannot eat it. I can’t eat chicken or turkey skin. I don’t eat okra or anything that draws. My bread must be sliced, and the crust must be removed. My rice must be green. A certain type of water must be used to cook my food. I’m picky about veggies. I don't eat tomatoes. I don't eat solids. I don't take liquids. I don't take pastes. In fact, a certain body part of mine must be used to cook the food or else, I cannot eat it…” bla bla bla, and some other boring blaaaa.

At this point you just want to stone your friend, and ask “So what do you eat then?”


If you were one of these kinds of people, now is the time to say “Ouch!”

I could never understand them. They just seemed like spoilt people whose parents allowed to have their way. The amount of slaps my mum dished me would never allow me to say “mummy, I don’t like onions swimming in my stew.” By the time she is done with you, you will have a new definition for 'swimming', by the time stars start swimming in your eyes. In my house, any food that is cooked is what you eat. Whether you like it or not doesn’t fit into the equation.

And so, I learnt to eat everything given to me, i.e. except beans of course. I forced myself to eat beans until after I left boarding house after junior school, and I just gave up on the thing entirely. We could never be friends, except it came disguised as ewa aganyin. Now, I don’t even touch the thing at all.

Now, I am forced to cover my eyes in shame. And why?

I am now part of the league of the ‘spoilt children picky food eaters.’

My case is even worse. I actually don’t eat some food again, not because I don’t like them, but because I cannot afford to have them in my body. As I grow older, the number of food I can eat is gradually decreasing.

1. Dairy. Right from the time I started hearing the word lactose intolerant, I always suspected that I was a member of the elite but unfortunate group of people because I knew my digestive system was always messed up after I take milk. Also since I have rumination syndrome, ruminating milk was just a terrible ordeal. Another thing was that milk made me sleep because I always became whenever I drank milk as a teenager or young adult. It made me useless in university lectures, so I never took it on week days. Anyway, I kept taking milk till three years ago when I had to tell myself the truth that I was lactose intolerant. The major breaking was when I started becoming allergic to milk. It basically destroyed my face, upper arms and chest. It started spiking my sebum production and clogged every cloggable pore in those areas. I still have the scars to show for it till today. It was then I stopped it completely, and few years later, started with soya milk, which is absolutely nothing like milk. Let me quickly mention that I did not take breast milk as a baby. I always threw it up, and it made me terribly sick. I did not take baby food for a long time, and started feeding on very soft amala at about 3-5 months. That’s what my mummy told me o. No wonder I’m the only short member of my family.

2. Apples. Along with so many other food, apples make me bloat.  Nothing much to be said here. I basically go from a flat-bellied Halle berry to an aristo-bellied Alao Akala in a space of hours if I consume just one apple. The quote ‘an apple a day drives the doctor away’ is the opposite for me.

3. Cabbages. See the point for apple above.

4. Beans. See the point for apple above.

5.  Groundnut and Egusi: I actually stopped this as  teenager. I can always predict the effect of one groundnut seed on my face. There are some sins I can’t commit, because the consequence will be there for everyone to witness, and one of those sins is eating groundnut and any soup that has egusi in it. Acne and pimples don’t even waste time to let me know who the master is.

7. Mango. Yeah. I know this is hard to think about. But mango also gives me acne. I don’t know if it is the type of sugar in it that spikes my sebum, or the very unique oil contained in the juice, but what I know is this… mango gives me acne!!! It does the same to my maternal aunt too, and apparently some other people I discovered online.

8. Fried plantain. This is actually a very painful one for me, because one of my best food is actually fried plantain. I had to sacrifice it for boiled plantain when I let go of fried food because of my very oily face. The irony of it was that the oil my face was producing was enough to fry another set of plantain under the sun. Till today, if I walk under the sun for 5 minutes, my face is not something you want to touch. Also, my digestion is not something I want to play with. Stopping fried plantain is one of the most painful breakups I have had to go through, but the God who mends broken hearts is still alive, so I am healing.

9. Fried foods, eating out, pizza, floury products, junk food, etc, etc. I guess this explains itself. I am a healthy food enthusiast.

In conclusion, I eat separately from my whole family. Because of my very unique digestive system, and small stomach which is getting smaller by the day, I eat a high-fibre diet. I can hardly eat two complete meals in a day, so I try to make sure my food is highly nutritious so I don't become malnourished. If I try to ignore my digestive needs, and go with the whole world, I end up in serious trouble.

A quick gist. A guy who knew about my digestive system, and the fact that I am allergic to dairy came to pick me on my birthday. In the middle of the journey, I asked where we were going, he said cold stone to have pizza and ice cream. I was pissed because I knew that he really loves cold stone, and I knew the trip was more about him than me. Let’s just say I hardly said a word to him throughout that day. I ended up roaming around Ikeja City Mall, looking for proper food that had vegetable in it, but never found. By the time he dropped my home at night, I was unhappy, hungry, and my stomach was swollen and filled up with gas, so I couldn’t even eat. Anytime I remember the whole thing, I always wished I could stone him with a stone that is really cold. There goes your cold stone.

Now, I eat the food listed above on rare occasions, but it is once in an extremely blue moon, as in the moon must be very blue.

I never knew I would be one of them, but now, if you ask me I will say “My name is Atilola. I don’t take dairy, I don’t eat fried food, junk food, apples, cabbages, mango, beans, groundnut, egusi, etc. bla bla bla and some other boring blaaaa.”

Monday, June 8, 2015

The Devil's Agenda for the Church

So I wrote this Spoken Word piece almost two years ago, and I felt it was really strong and powerful, but I didn't get the inner peace in my mind to go on performing this piece. I know that if one is going to assume the mouth piece of the devil, and go ahead to expose his plans on stage to the whole world, then one should be ready for some serious warfare. Because of some thing that happened to me in the period of two years before I wrote this, I wasn't sure I was ready to take on another vicious warfare. I also felt God asking me to "chill on this one." So I dumped the piece aside, and never rehearsed it. I saw it few days ago, and I felt at least if I can't present it on stage yet, I can publish it for the whole world to see. So here it is... in the devil's own words, not mine.

I am gonna silence the church
Making the bible-thumping Christians go hush hush
Hush- there’s a hatred grenade flying over there
Hush- you risk losing your charisma if you spread the gospel over there

I am gonna empty
The church till it loses its majority
Due to the sins of minority
Till the once fatted calf becomes so emaciated and hungry that it begins to lose its voice
And if it dares utter a sound, it will be taken as nothing but loud noise
Then the unbelievers will go “hush hush…
You talk too much”
Yes, I am gonna silence the church

I am going to divide them, using trivial issues and frivolous arguments
Such as that of prosperity and private jets
Such that they will be too blind to notice
When I enter boldly into their presence with dexterity

I’ll forcefully twist their heads
Shift their focus
Make them forget about his miracles, yet concentrate on hocus pocus
Abracadabra- it is raining money in this church
Abracadabra- there’s a children’s factory on that pilgrim hill
Abracadabra – cars are being shared in that temple
Abracadabra- healing is the order of the day in that cathedra
Cos it’s not only in harry potter books I use my avada kedavra

No. my avada kedavra will shift their orientation
Change their disposition
Make them the focus of their own attention
And distract them so much that the dizziness
from the speed of which I’ll do it will be mistaken for busyness
and the fruit of it will be greeted with righteous jubilation
such that they would begin to neglect the soul’s salvation
the very essence
of the Christian’s existence
in this present dispensation
yes, I am going to silence the church

I am going to dispense…
In the hearts of many, and the tool I will use is the pretence
Of the ones who were supposed to present
A shield of defence
And build a wall of fence
Around the vulnerable ones who came into the presence
Of God to bask in its holy ambience

Like osmosis, I won’t be loud or obvious
As I let the juiccccccceeeeeee
Of gossip and backbiting
Find its way into the nooks and crannies of the body

For the singular body
As the rejection of her church brethren
Messes up with her mind
Toils with the sermons and messages that had been planted in her heart
Becomes bitterness and hatred within her
And all these become a heavy load too weighty for her
To carry
till her…
Spine begins to curve as a result of the burden
She is carrying
And poof!
She is back to the very point
Where she came from
Another victory for me
If only they could see
How I used them to play the Pharisee

For the corporate body
As I begin to cause a crack here
A break there
As the osmotic juice
Of my offence does its work till it finds itself at the deepest root
Causing it to suddenly pop! And explode like a grenade
So loud that unbelievers outside begin to wonder the cause of this charade
Making the believers look like clowns similar to the ones at a carnival’s parade
Thereby rendering them powerless
And useless
Till they become like salt so tasteless

Then when my osmosis has taken its full effect
I’m going to make use of diffusion
To disseminate the poisonous gas of lies and deceit
using the ones who became disjointed from the body
Due to the offence
They experienced
From the hands of the ones who were supposed to be their father’s physical evidence

Then I’m going to take their case
To the presence of their father
And ask ‘are these
The people for whom you died on the cross
See how they make a mockery of your blood
Cos they’ll rather feed themselves than care about souls lost

And then I’ll pray
Pray in my own name
That unlike the case of job,
This time, their father would just give up on them
So I can have the liberty to crush them

I’m going to Cause Chaos to Cruise the Coast of the Christians’ Cathedral
Such that they begin to incur the Curse that the Cross of Christ Crossed off over 2000 years ago

I’m going to make them concentrate on charisma rather than character
Such that the concentration of their anointing reminds me of excessively diluted tasty time juice in the hand of a broke boarding house student

By this time, I’d have bound their wrists
Clip their fingers
Shackled their feet
Sealed their lips
Gorged their eyes
Plugged their ears
That they’ll look so beautiful
Yet remain like powerless statues
Till they become mere tourist attractions like Egyptian mummies

They’ll be so lukewarm
And would have become as bland as an over-chewed gum
That even their father would have to spew them
Cos after all, even he if denies me, he can’t deny the words in his literary emblem
Since he had already warned them

So I am going to silence the church
And of my many plans, I have told you a bit much
The question is…
will you be defiant and continue trying to spread the gospel of your father’s salvation
Or assist me in my unrelenting mission

By Atilola Moronfolu

Monday, June 1, 2015

Parental Consent turns Deadly

First of all, let me say Happy New Month to you all. I pray June will be a far better month for you than May was. Can I hear an Amen?

I once knew someone who like many people, was not allowed to get married to who he wanted to marry. Now, if you are a Nigerian, you basically know that this is not a new thing, as parental approval is a big deal here.

I asked him why, he said his mum said this girl is not God’s will for him, bla bla bla. His mum goes to CAC (Christ Apostolic Church), and according to him, after some of them prayed, their spirit just didn’t agree with the girl. That was the only reason he gave me.

About three years later, this guy’s sister in law told me that the full reason was that after ‘praying and checking’, it was revealed to them that this girl didn’t have long life in her destiny.

Now here is the thing, by the time the SIL gave me this aspect of the story, the girlfriend in question was already dead! 

She had died about two years earlier after falling ill for some time, and I remember that my friend was devastated, although he did not tell me his family has ‘seen’ that this girl didn’t have long life. I honestly don’t think they told my friend about the long life part until the girl died much later.

So my friend goes ahead with his life, started dating someone he had met a long time ago, proposed to her. The girl later broke the engagement and returned to her ex, in turn breaking my friend’s heart. He picks himself back up after some period of serious bitterness, and was ready to move on again.

And then, one day, my friend was on the road taking something from the back of his car, when an absent-minded driver who was looking at his phone while driving on high speed hits my friend against the boot of the car, killing my friend instantly. My friend was 30 when he died, and his dead girlfriend must have been about 26 when she died.

Now this is what gets me anytime I remember the whole story.

When they were ‘checking the destiny’ of another man’s daughter to see if she was suitable enough for their son, did they ‘check the destiny’ of their own son to see if he was good enough? How come they were spiritual enough to sense that the girl was going to die soon, yet not sensitive enough to know anything about the guy’s short life? If their son had gone ahead to marry his second girlfriend, assuming she had not called off the engagement, and he had died, how would his parents have felt, knowing that the grief they didn’t want their son to go through because of another girl’s impending death is the same grief another woman is now going through because of their son’s death?

This is one thing that has baffled me for long, and honestly, I have no answers, or don’t know why, so I won’t pretend to be wise, and start sharing insights.

But really, my main question is this? How come they saw the girl didn’t have long life, but they never saw it in their own son?

Please, I really want to know what you guys think. Even though you might not have a definite answer, just share your opinion. Gracias.

Monday, May 25, 2015

Public Disgrace of Singleness

So there’s this pastor I really like. He is actually my friend’s pastor, and leads a branch of one of those conservative churches - the non-trouser, non-earring wearing kind. I like him because he seems genuinely interested in my welfare, and he doesn’t use the “why are you wearing trouser, why are you wearing earring?” eye to look at me. He is married, with 3 kids, and really vibrant. He encourages me well in my down time.

Anyway, when I came back from Geneva, when I went to do the spoken word for the UN conference, my friend calls and says this man was asking after me, and I should call him. I called him, and told him why I wasn’t available to speak to him. So he said I should come and see him. Reluctantly – very very reluctantly, I dragged myself to his church on Sunday afternoon. I was still resting from my trip, and didn’t even go to my own church that morning.

On getting there, we talked a bit, prayed a bit, etc. He then drilled me about what the whole spoken word thing was about, and I explained the best I could. I showed him a video of one of my performances, and he seemed thrilled. Later, we ended the conversation, and I left.

A couple of weeks later, he called me, and said he wanted me to come and minister in his church because he has a special guest. You see why I like this man? Conservative pastor calling a trouser-wearing girl like me to come and minister.

I told him it would be inconvenient since it meant I had to leave the teens I’m supposed to teach in my own church. I told him I would do it but he had to slate me early, so I could leave to my own church.

I could swear that this was what I heard him say. “Please, can you come and do your spoken word in my church. I have a special guest coming to preach, and I want him to see your ministration.”

But he called me a week later, and started asking if I was ready for the ministration, to which I replied in the affirmative. He asked what my topic was, and I told him. He then suggested another topic which I can’t remember now. I told him it was too late because I couldn’t start writing something new and putting it together. I then asked him what topic the pastor was preaching on so I could see how I could manipulate his topic with my ministration during the introduction phase.

It was then the calabash broke.

“What pastor?” The pastor asked.

I was confused. “I thought you said you had a special guest coming to preach in your church, and that is why you are calling me.”

“No o. I mean there’s a guy coming to my church. He is one of our church members, but now works for an oil company in port harcourt. That is the guest I am talking about. He will be in church on Sunday. So I want you to come and do your spoken word, so he can see you. I will now ask him if he is interested in you.”

I’m guessing you are all speechless by now. At this point, I didn’t know what to say. So many things were running through my mind. Couldn’t this man just have called me to come and minister without revealing his true motive to me? After all, the guy also wasn't aware.

“Ha, I didn’t know o. I actually thought it is a pastor.”

“No, it is not.”

Trust my straightforward talk. “Excuse me sir, you know I wear earring and trousers, and you want to introduce me to your church member.” I protested.

“No o, this guy is not like that o. He is the liberal kind.”

“Me, I don’t know o.” I continued.

My friend, who is the one who introduced me to my pastor friend, wasn’t around to witness the drama, cos she had gone to the states to put to bed. I reported the whole incident to her, and told her why it was a terrible idea. First, even though we were both Christians, our doctrines differed totally, and then I have a budding manufacturing business in Lagos. She disagreed with me, but that was her own opinion, and I wasn’t buying it.

I picture myself  married to the guy, always wearing wrapper and long skirt, never wearing earring, and always covering my head. It wasn’t a pretty imagination, lol. So I just determined to put all sentiments aside and do the ministration, forgetting the real story behind it.

In the meantime, I was praying hard that the guy will see me, and not like me. In fact, he should very disinterested in me, cos I don’t want any “Pastor said you are my wife” story in my life. I also don’t want anything that would cause me to reject the guy, and it will now be like “See this one that we are trying to help her case, she still has the guts to reject men.”

A day before the ministration, my pastor friend called me, and told me to make sure I don’t wear earring, and I cover my head, since I will be climbing the altar. I was glad he told me because I wouldn’t have thought of taking a hat.

Anyway, the day came, and I did the spoken word without mentioning anything about the drama to the pastor. All the while I knew that my maybe-potential-husband was in the crowd, watching me. I sha tried not to feel like a guinea pig on display, without earrings and a bowler hat. I wore a knee-length bodicon dress. At least, I met them half way on the earring issue, lol.

Till today, the pastor never mentioned the update to me. Maybe the Holy Spirit did not minister to the guy that I was his wife when I was performing, I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t like what he saw, then he must have been blinded by my prayers.

So that was how the story of my life was put up on public display, because someone was looking for husband for me, lol.

P.S: Please know that this happened two years ago, and as at today, I am still not even 30 yet, lol. This means people really care about my marital status.

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