African... Western...

I got to the saloon, my hair loosed, uncombed and standing up straight. I greeted my hairdresser, he took a look at me and my hair and a frown crossed he face. To say that he was pissed would be an understatement. I did not need anyone to tell me that he was tired of my natural (virgin) hair. He always ‘begged’ me to relax it but I disagreed.

All the hair stylists were praying to God not to be assigned the task of weaving my hair. Number 1, it is too full, Number 2, it is unrelaxed. They say that it takes about three times the time you would take to weave a relaxed hair to weave a virgin hair because of its elastic texture.

Ever since I started keeping natural have, I have hardly received words of encouragement from people, especially haridressers, but truthfully, I have never been tempted to go back on my decision. It all started when I decided to cut off my dreadlocks (that my irresponsible hair) of two years. I just could not imagine myself going back to the whole relaxing thing. And since then, I haven’t had rest from hair stylists.

I just want to know, why are we so eager to fix the hair that the Asians and Brazilians cut off and can't wait to crucify those that have chosen to go the African way? Why are we so eager to pour relaxer on our kids’ hair, such that they do not really know what a true African hair looks like? If we would really take time to consider, we will realize that the Black African hair is really unique. When unrelaxed, it has lovely spring like curls that no other race can boast of. Many white people wished they could weave their hair, some even weave it and tie the ends so it won’t loose.

What about in physique, they want to be so curvy like Africans that they do breast and butt enlargement, some of them even wear padded pants. Yet we so badly want to be like them that we starve ourselves just to become that desired 'lepa' that the new age society has termed beautiful. What an irony? They try so hard to look like us and we try so hard to look like them

For the next few years at least, I have chosen to go the natural way. So please, From henceforth, let no man trouble me for I bear in my body the marks of a true African.

Gone... Gone... Gone!!!

Image from the-malaysian.blogspot.com

You have your dreams, you will impact the world in a great way. Generations yet unborn will hear about you long after you are gone. He has his dreams, he will impact the world in a great way. Generations yet unborn will hear about him long after he is gone.

Your paths cross, the attraction is there, you tell each other about your dreams and aspirations. Ooooh, this must be a match made in heaven, you are actually going to help birth each others dreams. You decide to take the next step and you become one with him.

You find out that everything is going against you and your aspirations. You both decide to enter the labour market and work. ‘Just for a while’, you tell yourself. ‘I will raise capital and go and achieve my dreams’. You go out there, you get lost in the rat race, you cannot think anymore because of the deadlines and time constraint. You loose the ability to see. Dreams... Gone! Vision... Gone!

You realize it but it’s too late. You find out that you and your spouse are just like every other person out there. There is really nothing special about you people. You also find out that everyone in the labour market had dreams, just like you. In fact, some had the exact dreams you had but they all fell for the same trick you fell for. How disappointing to find out that you and your spouse are not that different after all. Your great ambition to impact the world is gone.

Now you are almost close to retirement. Nobody knows you, nobody has heard about you. Even your dream does not know your name. You have your spouse, you have your children, you have your success, the one that the rat race got you, but what of your youthful dream? It is gone, gone, gone… Never to return to you again.

Selah

Naija Hostesses

I have to complain and rant about this o, I will talk even if no one else will. Somebody please tell me, why do Airlines now go out of their way to use ‘not so good looking’ girls as Air Hostesses? I happened to be at the local airport for a while and all through my stay there, I did not come across one smashingly beautiful Air Hostess like we used to have before. It is either they are too short or too fat or one other unusual characteristic. When I say short, I don’t mean my own kind of 5’ 5 short, I mean really shooorrrt!

Recently, I saw one that had the ‘lion claw’ kind of tribal marks, you know the kind that Ibadan and Ogbomoso people used to have in those days, I was really dumbfounded. The really short one I talked about in the aforementioned paragraph wore a very short and tight skirt which was bad because she had thin legs which were a bit bow shaped. I thought to myself, if the airline wanted her to look good, they shouldn’t have allowed her wear that skirt, which is what made me to start suspecting something. To cap it all up, they will colour their face with paint, calling it makeup. This now spoils the already bad package and makes them look like masquerades.

After considering all the Air Hostesses I had been seeing, I was tempted to wonder whether the airlines were not doing it on purpose. Is it because they want to reduce the rate at which male flyers patronize Air Hostesses for affairs? Or maybe they don’t want the men to get serious with them and give them better jobs, which will result in high staff turnover? Or maybe the smashingly beautiful air hostesses are just too ‘high maintenance’ for them and they will not be able to pay them what will keep up their dazzling beauty. I have thought of this very well but I still cannot fathom the reason but what I know is this, I spent about two months at the local airport and the air hostesses I sore were an eyesore, not an eyesight!

Image courtsey of Time out Dubai

I am...

I am he
I am made in his image, a true reflection
I am unique just as his word tells me
I am filled with his spirit
I am washed of the blood of the lamb
I am not only a christian but
I am born again
I am sold out for christ, totally

I am man,
I am not a perfect being but I strive for it
I am not immune to a fall but I get up stronger
I am industrious
I am a cultivator
I am a visionary
I am the provider
I am the head, not the tail
I am a lover, not a hater
I am a friend, not an enemy
I am father, not a figure head
I am a husband, not "the father of the kids"
I am a brother that cares
I am a leader, not a follower
I am the Olori ebi

I am sharp
I am cool
I am the boss
I am swagger itself
I am the best
I am the "koko"
I am invaluable

I am patriotic
I am black and proud
I am African
I am Nigerian
I am rich in culture and resources

I am all these cos he blessed me
I am OkunrinMetaPlusOne!


'Dare Oladeji

Should I have done that?

I was making my hair in a salon on a fateful day and I had some bars of chocolate with me. I took them along because I knew that I was going to stay long at the salon and I did not have time to eat before going there. After about two hours in the salon, I started munching on the chocolates but I felt selfish because I did not offer anyone, not even the hairdresser’s daughter who was about six years old. I felt like calling the girl to me but I did not know how her parents (both mother and father were present) will react.

I stopped eating them for a while and the girl later came to stand by me, just to see what her mother was doing to my hair. Instinctively, I brought out one bar of chocolate and gave the girl, she collected it and said ‘thank you’, and then she left to meet her dad. I don’t know what she did to the bar I gave her, I want to believe that she handed it to her dad or kept it somewhere to eat later. Immediately after, I asked myself why I gave it to her because I know for a fact that parents always warn their children not to collect anything from strangers. Also, in Africa where the belief in witchcraft is so strong, they could believe that there’s a possibility that I could use the chocolates to initiate their daughter into ‘my’ coven. After all these thoughts passed through my mind, I really wished I did not give it to her but the deed was already done.

Just to mention, all the while when I was making my hair, the woman was begging all the familiar passersby for her sallah gift, because it was a celebration day for the Muslims (they had just ended their 40 day fast). Even when her husband came, she kept asking people for her sallah gift unashamedly, I could count her doing this for about 15 times. This made me to understand that the woman liked collecting things (food, money, etc) from people. So I thought to myself again, ‘if the woman likes collecting things from random people, then she won’t mind me handing her daughter a bar of chocolate’. It was just a point of consolation for me.

Regaining my Fingerprints

Some months back, a sharp bone from a frozen raw meat pierced my thumb deeply. Failure to take care of the injury immediately led to more complications and sharper pains. After a week and suspicion of possible infection, I finally decided to cover the hand with plaster. About another week later, I got rid of the plaster because the wound had healed and my thumb was itching me. The consequence of this is that I lost a large part of my finger print because the surface peeled off, skin deep. It really looked strange because it was very smooth.

I later asked my friend, 'do you think I will gain these prints back?' to which he answered in the affirmative. I agreed with him, since I have not heard about people losing their fingerprints permanently. If that were the case, criminals would have started removing their prints, though I cannot fathom how exactly they will achieve that. Lo and behold, about five weeks after this incident, I looked at my finger and I saw my prints surface. Though they were still faint, but they were strong enough to make an impression on a paper and on my heart. Marvelous of all, they are exactly the same way, form and size of what used to be there. God is just sooo awesome. It only proves the fact that my fingerprints have nothing to do with the finger on which I can view them but they are deeply immersed in my blood line which carry my DNA. So, as long as I have blood flowing through my veins, I will never lose my fingerprints.

How do we translate this to things happening in our lives? You might think that you have lost some things in life and that you will never regain them. As long as you have the Blood of Jesus, the one He shed on the cross for you, flowing through your ‘veins’, you can regain all that you lost. The only thing is that you have to wait for time to do its part. What some of us try to do is to look at the ‘printless finger’ and start trying to draw our own prints on it with a pen or pencil, not realizing that the print has nothing to do with the skin surface but with the blood. Some of us even get frustrated and keep on tearing at the skin or even cutting the thumb off all together. Needless to say, if this happens, we will never ever regain those prints because the medium for God to bless us is gone.

This is a message of hope for anyone who thinks he/she has lost something. Don’t lose hope, you will regain all you have lost, just be patient and remain connected to the source of the ‘fingerprint restoring’ DNA, the Blood of Jesus Christ!

Differences

Why are we all different? Some are rich while some are poor. Some are intelligent while some are not. Some are athletic while some are fat slobs. Some are eloquent while some are stammers.

The book of Genesis made it very CLEAR that we were made in the image of God. As we all know, God is ever present and all knowing, in other words, He is perfect. God pointed out that man needed help and are therefore not perfect, that is why he created Eve (the helper). Coupled with the fall of man, this made our imperfections obvious and glaring. That Gap was however bridged by the sending of his only begotten son (Jesus).

After reading my devotional guide this morning, I got a clear picture in my mind about why we all are different. The Bible says we are all part of the same body, we all have different roles to play. 1Cor 12:21 explains that one part of the body can't do without the other irrespective of the level of importance or attractiveness of each part.

Personally, I think the reason we are all somewhat different is because God made it so. He recognized man’s deficiency and made up for it by making a help meet for Adam. After the fall of man, a gap was created between God and man and Jesus Christ, as earlier said, came to bridge that gap. If we as Christians follow the Christ wholly, our imperfection will be made perfect.

'Dare Oladeji

Emotional Cheaters

I put up a post last year about crossing the line between fantasy and cheating. There has been a trend of emotional cheating in many marriages lately. This is rampant among both Christians and non-Christians marriages. We have people that we bond with in different ways and this is most common in the workplace. Some get into it intentionally and others just find themselves in such situations.


First case scenario

Healthy marriage, but there is this beautiful lady at work, they are ‘just friends’ and they do every single thing together. He now looks forward to being with her, weekends are now boring because they don’t have the excuse to do things together. He is not cheating on his wife sexually but he is no longer enthusiastic about her company.

Second case scenario

Unhappy, almost destroyed marriage. Wife is always pretending to be happy at work, but not enough to fool her close male colleague. She starts to confide in him, and they both develop a soft spot for each other. They bond on all levels and he becomes a way of escape out of her abusive marriage. Now she is happier and she has a reason to live again. She can now enjoy d sessions of love making with her husband so far she is picturing the face of her colleague at that time. She has not yet slept with him but she has been seriously fantasizing about the act, they are both waiting for the ‘right’ opportunity and they know that it is just a matter of time before it happens.

What we should ask is where exactly our marriage is right now and where we want it to be. Will emotional cheating on our spouse get us to that desired destination or take us far away from it? Ponder on this question.

What is she doing here?

I was recently led to work with the teenagers in my church, and like my curious self, I have constantly been studying their ways and mannerisms. Needless to say, I have observed a lot, both positive & negative.

On a particular Sunday, a girl in her late teens walked in and she was practically naked. Her back was completely bare and her front her breasts was barely covered, her hair was fixed to look like an old school Rihanna style, her skirt rode far above her knees. Adorned with her designer bag and neck and hand bead, she looked like she was going to a night club. When I saw her, my jaw dropped, she walked in with two other girls who were also flamboyantly dressed but still looked descent.

The first thing that crossed my mind when I saw her was ‘which parent allowed her child to leave home like this?’ It was bad enough dressing like that but worse when the intended destination is church but I tried to compose myself so that my face won’t betray my thoughts. I am sure the same thing was going through the mind of other adults. One mixed race boy of about 13 yrs of age behind me suddenly said, ‘where do they think they are, they don’t even know that they are coming to church (hiss)?’ Now hold it there, didn’t she dress that way so that other teenagers could admire her and see her as a hot babe, why the opposite reaction from them?

I thought to myself, what could I do now? Maybe I should just walk up to her and ask her to go out and dress properly (no, that would be very unchristian and unwise), or maybe I should just look for a scarf for her to cover herself. After a while, I managed to ignore my longing to solve the problem.

As I teenager, I have dressed crazily, I wore spaghetti gowns (I still do), I wore contrasting pairs of earrings, I sagged my jeans, I hung my baggy dungarees on a single strap, and when I started realizing that I am a lady, my grandmother complained that my tops were always too jumpy, my earrings were too big and my lip gloss was too shiny. If any part of my stomach showed, she would pull my pants or skirts up, and hold it wit safety pin so that they won’t ride down again. This was quite understandable as I am her first granddaughter and my mother was just tired of me. The only person that seemed to ‘understand me’ and wanted to be like me was my younger sister, which also was not surprising since I was the only elder female influence she had in her life and she admired my independence. So, you wont blame me for being shocked when I saw ‘sister scandalous’.

Where are the parents, who have they relegated their duties to, the school, the teachers or the church? We need to be aware of the kind of children we are nurturing and take an active position in their decision making instead of raring breeds who will eventually become a potential danger to their generation.

Sticks and Stones

When I was in my early teens, there was this guy (let us call him Jamal) in our neighbourhood that liked me. He was in a boarding school while I was in day school. There was a time he came home from school for holiday and bought me packed rice, perfume and a card. I appreciated it and he went back to school.

A month later, my siblings and I were having home lesson after the daily school session. My brother came and said that Jamal came home and asked a neighbour of mine to give me something. I asked how Jamal could come home and not make an effort to see me but my brother responded saying it was impromptu and he had to go back immediately. I accepted the package, in it contained what looked like another packed food and a wrapped gift. I decided to open the package after my lesson, but my brother kept insisting that I should open it right then in front of everyone because he was hungry, he even asked my lesson teacher to support his plea. He, my lesson teacher and my sister kept asking me to open it so I finally succumbed to their pleas. I opened the aluminium foil packed food first, what did I see? Sticks, stones and broken pieces of glass. The neatly wrapped pack was just a dirty, empty bottle. I took a glance at my brother, who was laughing loud and hard by now and just shook my head. I looked at my lesson teacher, his laughter was enough evidence that he had been in on the plans.

I was just thinking about my days as a child and remembered this funny incident so I thought to share it.

Showers of Blessings

I was in church on a fateful Sunday morning. It was a combined service, the kind where you spend about six straight hours in church, with longer prayer, longer praise, longer worship and finally, a very lengthy sermon since all the services are combined into one.

Some minutes into the prayer session, the pastor asked us to hold our neighbour’s hands, minding that we should find a person who is passionate about prayer. I held someone’s hands, and we flowed into prayer. While praying with my partner, I was hearing one brother at my back, seriously ‘kabashing’ and I said in my mind, that’s one fierce prayer. I was also praying very fervently but mine could not be compared to his.

Later the pastor said we should change our partners, the aforementioned brother’s partner was eager to leave him and pray with my partner but I considered this strange. I was left to pray with the brother, I assumed it to be a good match because I felt he would ‘kabash’ all the demons out of my life. So we started praying and next thing, the brother held my palms tight, shaking me vigorously, started shouting loudly into my ears, and guess what the heavens were opened.

Drops of liquid were all over me. Brother was spitting profusely, I had to look up to be sure whether the venue’s roofing had suddenly developed a fault, because this seemed to be more than saliva. The prayer lasted for about 10 minutes. I had to endure spit all over my hands and face. I managed to pray but it was quite difficult because I was seriously distracted. I kept turning my face left and right in order to dodge the liquid slaps, I was squinting and squeezing, anyone looking would think I was entering the spiritual realm and finally, the prayer ended. I took my face towel and cleaned my hands and my face. I blogged this on my phone, with the guy sitting behind me and hoping he’s not trying to see what I’m typing on my phone. Thank God for His showers of blessings.

My Inspiration

There has been so much misunderstanding surrounding my posts. In as much as a lot of people have been blessed by it, some people say that I don’t suggest solutions in some of them. The purpose of this blog is stated by on the top right side of the website. It is to shed light on real-life issues, I don’t have solutions to all the unfortunate issues that people go through but I can shed light on them. I don’t have solution to all my own problems also, all I know is that anytime I find myself in a situation too difficult for me to handle, I shift my focus from the problem and back on God and somehow, He always finds a way out for me. The fact that I don’t have a solution to such problems does not mean I should not write about them.

Also it is not every time that people are looking for someone to suggest solutions to their problems, some of them already know the solution but are still trying to find their feet. The mere fact that there is someone out there that can understand what they are going through is enough to inspire them to move on in life. Some of these people cannot even describe what how they feel. So, in my write-ups, I assume the character of any person I write about and see the world through that person’s eyes, whether good or bad character.

Furthermore, many people have started to get worried about me, wondering if I am going through a terrible phase in my life, I am sure the above paragraph has clarified that. If really I were all the characters I have written about, as portrayed, what a seriously damaged and messed up person I would be. Although, I would not deny the fact that I can relate to every blog post I have written in my own way, after all, the ideas came from my mind.

I write different kinds of posts, happy ones, funny ones and sad ones. It is the sad ones that are really getting people uncomfortable. They say even if I want to write that, then I should put a balance at the end. I wonder why people do not want to acknowledge the bad things happening in the world. If a wife batterer stumbles upon my blog and reads ‘Past Tense’, he will most likely be convicted in his mind and try to see things another way, when next he is tempted to strike her. With this, haven’t I been able to touch a life?

Finally, I started this blog because I want to voice out my own ideas, and at the same time, give all the glory back to God, so I will not allow the opinions of people determine what I write because I am not writing to please anyone but to shed light on different things that the average man goes through every day, whether happy or sad. I don’t see myself as a talented writer, my inspiration comes from God and the things I see around me every day, I will continue to focus on him so that I would not end up being like a sounding brass or tinkling cymbal.

Life made one Mistake

A great weakness of mine is wanting to have every aspect of my life under control. I always have one thing or the other planned and an upset in my plans means an upset in my mood. If any part of my life falls outside my control, I start to get frustrated, complete surrender has not really been my thing. Life has been trying to tell me that I can’t always control everything that happens, but I have for long been a stubborn student of life. My approach is very practical. I want something, I analyze how to get it, make my plans & forge ahead with them. The plans are sometimes long term and other times, short term.

So here I go, embarking on the journey to achieve the goals that I set for myself, then life slaps me with its challenges, I take the first slap like a shock absorber and continue running. Second time, it’s a blow, I writhe in pains but still carry on and then it lifts me very high and slams me on the ground. Now, I can’t get up again, but I’m still crawling, life is not done with me yet, it raises me and kicks me like a soccer ball. This time, I can’t lift my back to crawl anymore but I keep rolling, towards the direction of the plan I made for myself. Life looks at me and shakes its head, disgusted by my resilience and with one final attempt, it lifts its heavily booted foot and crushes me to the ground. I am still alive but I cannot move anymore. I am crushed, disgraced, dirty and damp with blood all over me.

I, Miss Independent, am down there with alone with nothing but scars and injuries I sustained from the beating life gave me. I wonder how I got here in the first place. Wait… did I even consult God before forging ahead with my plans? Well, I know I prayed, but did I really wait to hear his answer or did I hear what I wanted to hear? I assumed that it was God's will when I knew for a fact that I was the one controlling the wheels. And without God’s guidance, I went ahead with my plans. So when life started to deal with me, there was no one or nothing to protect me.

All the while when life was fighting me, instead of me to turn and face the direction of God, I faced the direction of my plans. God was no more driving me, it was my plan that was driving me. Now I have been shamed and life is laughing me to scorn but LIFE MADE ONE MISTAKE… it did not kill me. I still have the opportunity to go back to God and start all over again. Though I can’t move again, I still have my mouth. So I cry out to God and He hears my call, He has always been near, He never left me the whole time, He was just waiting for me to call out to him. He hears my cry, answers me, lifts me up and though I have no strength left, I lean on Him. He raises me up, washes me, feeds me and restores me back to perfect health.

Now I have learnt that there are things in life that I can never control or change, there are things in life that I can never stop from happening and there are things in life that I can never explain. Failure to acknowledge all these will only lead to unnecessary frustration. I have since changed from a reluctant student of life to a willing one.

Since I still have my analytical mind and my planning mentality, I make plans again… but not alone anymore. God is involved this time around, I surrender the steering wheel and let Him steer the vehicle. Who wants to drive anyway? I am tired of being the driver of my life, the last time I tried, see where it landed me. Let Him drive and let me be the passenger, I am happy to go anywhere He takes me to. Life no more has a choice but to turn from being an adversary to being a friend.

The Yuppy Sugar Daddy

Old yuppy: I like you very much, I want to marry you. Or do you think I'm an old man, I’m not old. I’m still a small boy, I am just 42 yrs old

This is just wonderful!

Old yuppy: I am not looking for a girlfriend, I’m looking for a wife, my wife died four years ago. I have one child only

Eeew! How do these old men always find me?

Old yuppy: As I saw you, I fell for you instantly because I really like your ‘combination’.

This was the persuasion the old man resorted to after an earlier session of boasting. I was smiling toothily throughout the encounter with the man which is not surprising since it was the same way I smiled throughout the time I spent with some people that carried me five years ago intending to use me for some ritual routine. I smiled till they dropped me. It is not that I like smiling but I get amused easily when a drama unfolds in front of me and I’m the main actor.

Let me rewind back to the beginning. For the first time, I got free pass to leave work early on a particular Monday and I decided to go to church. Almost getting there, a jeep conveying two men drove past me and I heard…

Old yuppy: Please come.

Thinking he wanted to ask for directions, I obliged.

Old yuppy: Are you a yoruba girl?

Ok @ilola, now is the time for you to keep on walking, but wait, this promises to be interesting. I have been bored for a while now. It won’t be a bad idea to engage this man a bit. It looks like a scene in a Nigerian home video. This is so cool, I can be a real life actor.

@ilola: yes

Old yuppy: What state are you from?

@ilola: ABC state

Old yuppy: I am from ABC state too, 123 town to be precise, I have a house there. Where in ABC are you from?

@ilola: XYZ

Old yuppy: Ah! I know XYZ very well, I have a house there.

Ok, why is this man trying to find common ground with me? Well, I wanted the drama, so let’s go theerrreee...

Old yuppy: (He continues) When there was trouble… (I got lost here as I am distracted by his appearance), that’s when I left my house in Lagos and built another one in XYZ.

Eeh eeh, who asked for story?

Old yuppy: I work with NNPC, I’m a big man in NNPC, Port Harcourt office. Any time I come home, XYZ is where I settle. I have houses all around. (My toothy smile is still there)

Oh, what a character?

Old yuppy: where are you going?

@ilola: Just there (I stretched my hand and pointed forward because I didn’t want him to offer me a ride).

I looked at the man whose appearance reminded me of the Oyo state governor except that he didn’t bleach his skin. He had gold hanging all over his body with splotches of grey hair. He looked more to me like the chairman of Nigerian Union of Road Transport Workers.

Old yuppy: Please, give me your number.

I couldn’t say I did not have a phone, he’d know I’m lying. I shook my head, laughed and for the first time in the conversation, I said a full sentence.

@ilola: I can’t give you my number

Old yuppy: Please

@ilola: Sir, I won’t give you my number. Don’t even bother asking me again.

I guess the old man sensed that it was a lost battle.

Old yuppy: Ok, let me give you mine then

@ilola: ok

Old yuppy: Bring your phone out. (Still trying to think of the best way to escape this, the man noticed my hesitation). Ok, do you have a pen?

@ilola: No

His friend brought out a pen and tore a piece of paper out of Old yuppy’s jotter, as he was putting the number down, that’s when he switched from the boasting mode to the persuasive mode I started this post with.

Old yuppy: (Collecting the number from his friend and scanning through) Since you didn’t give me your number, I know that when you take some steps forward, you will throw that paper away. But please, I beg you, don’t do that. Call me please. Will you call me tonight? Promise me you will call me (I smiled and nodded)

Old yuppy: Even if you can’t call me because you are shy, go to business center and call me. Let me tell you something, if you call me tonight, I promise you, I will send you recharge card immediately!

Yeeeehhh… Insult upon injury! Upon all my baffing up, with all my designer wear, He thinks I am as cheap as a recharge card.

Old yuppy: Please call me tonight (He handed me the paper, I am really surprised because it was written on a NNPC paper. I thought he was lying since he looked like an Agbero chief).

Old yuppy: What is your name?

Interesting, putting the cart before the horse. He must have been more interested in my 'combination' than my name

@ilola: @ilola

Old yuppy: I am also Ola, I am Engineer Ola-something so you see, we are both Olas. Where do you work?

Oh, so you can see I work and you wanted to entice me with common recharge card. Now I’m getting bored, this movie needs to come to an end.

@ilola: I can’t tell you sir

Friend: Come inside the car, let’s drop you. (I was beginning to shake my head)

Old yuppy: There is no need for that, she is already suspecting that we are kidnappers. What I just want is for her to call me tonight. (Turning back to me) Are you a muslim or a Christian?

@ilola: Christian

Old yuppy: I am also a Christian

I knew that was coming, after all you have been trying to tell me that we have everything in common.

I am really getting tired of this Nollywood production and getting late for church.

@ilola: I have to go, I am late

He was still talking, I started walking away and left him, he drove past me reciting more pleas for me to call him. I made sure I did not throw the paper away immediately because he might just be looking just to make sure his suspicions didn’t come to pass. I rushed to church, walked into the church hall, dropped my bag and stepped out to quickly blog this on my phone before the details get blurry.

The Enigma

Every day, I grow, I metamorphosize. I have evolved into someone I don’t recognize anymore. I am definitely not who I used to be two years ago and I suspect that two years from now, I would be another stranger to myself. People have called me different names, enigmatic, mysterious, indescribable, just when I think I am getting a grasp of myself, I finally slip out of my own mind and like an amoeba, I take a different shape.

My mother used to think that I was the best thing that happened to the world, but I guess after some display of rebellion, she later had a change of mind. Although, I sometimes suspect that she still sees me as ‘golden’.

To a few people, I am a pain in the neck and to many others, I am the clown they always want to have around. Some people call me talkative while some people call me very quiet. Some said I am introvert, others said I am extrovert, someone even said I am an introverted talkative (I never heard of that before).

Now, I don’t know who I am, you don’t know who I am, my family doesn’t know who I am, no one knows who I am. If I were a course to be studied, then no one would ever pass me. If I were a puzzle to be solved, I would never be completed.

So, who am I? Well, I know one thing, I am what God has called me to be, I am the light of the world. You might not know it now but you will realize later because a city set on a hill cannot be hid.

Who am I? Don’t bother trying to find out. I am an ENIGMA, that’s what they call me.

My pastor is a Thief!!!

‘The youth pastor slept with the choir mistress, the associate pastor stole the offering money, the senior pastor divorced his wife and remarried. That prosperity pastor is too selfish, all he cares about is his private jet and not the state of his fellow citizens. These Christian schools self, they are too expensive. Are they not supposed to be the light of the world? Can’t they be that light by making their schools cheaper than even the federal schools? After all, salvation is free.’
‘What of that other church? All they care about is fashion and flashing the latest ride in town. I see my choir members clubbing most Friday nights. What of that usher that I saw stealing from the offering basket with my naked eyes? Kpscheww… Christians are the worst hypocrites in the world. If this is what Christianity is, I’d rather be a sinner!’

Many Christians are familiar with these kinds of statements. In fact, people like me hear things like this at least once a week. Though, I acknowledge that there’s truth to some of these accusations, hearing it all the time gets tiring after a while.

To all of you who have been disturbing me with your incessant complaints, yes you, you are the one I am talking to, I did this write-up just for you.

Firstly, how does the clubbing lifestyle of your choir member make all Christians hypocrites, are they now the yardstick for measurement? In fact what were you doing there in the first place or what was the person that gossiped it to you doing there? Why do you deserve God’s forgiveness while the choir member doesn’t? That pastor whose private jet you complain about, what exactly do you expect from him? Do you expect him to fly economy with everyone so that the public will keep asking them for miracles, prayers or financial assistance through out a fourteen hour flight, then by the time they land, they’d have almost fainted? Plus, what is wrong if a church member that makes clean money decides to buy a private jet for his pastor, abi, is it your money?

Yes, you complained about the school fees of the church schools. Why did u conveniently ignore the countless number of students that these schools and churches give full scholarships to every year? So you want them to make the fees as cheap, so that the quality of their products will also be cheap? Have you forgotten that they are not funded by the government like the federal or state schools? If you want quality, then you pay for quality, the schools abroad can attest to that fact.

The church that you say flash their cars, whose fault is it that some Christians are prospering? Oh, you really think that it is almost every successful person that stole government money? That is why your mind is finding hard to grasp the concept of clean and legal prosperity in Nigeria. Think big, my friend, expand your view, there is money to be made in this country. If you refuse to make the money, then don’t blame the Christians who go out and make a success out of their life, they are just being what God has called them to be.

That pastor that you called a prosperity preacher, when he wrote about prosperity, you criticized him. When he wrote about praise, what did you say? What about the times he talks about prayers, and you say you are not being myopic? So what exactly makes him a prosperity preacher, the fact that he is rich, or that his church members are rich, or just because he told you that you can be rich? Well, if you don’t like it, then go and be poor. And if it is because he is rich, ask yourself this: where is it written in the bible that penury is synonymous to salvation? Why is it ok for you to be really blessed but not for your pastor? Doesn’t he have needs like you?

As for the youth pastor that slept with the choir mistress and the associate pastor that dipped his hand in the offering basket, I have no defence for them. It just goes to show that no one is perfect and that senior pastors should strive to know true characters of people by asking God for revelation. After all, Jeremiah 17:9 says that ‘the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it?’ so, even the senior pastor cannot know all things. And if it is the senior pastor that is guilty as charged, and you cannot afford to sit under the teachings of your ‘sinner pastor’ anymore, find another church. Also, if your faith in Christ was eroded because your senior pastor committed this ‘very grave’ sin, then it is entirely your fault not his, because you were not supposed to put your faith in man. Faith in man is just like standing on sinking sand, you are bound to be let down.

Lastly, to you that talk bad or contribute in negative discussion about the senior pastor of the church you still attend, well…

I am not a pastor, neither is it my intention to become one, I just felt the need to write about this. If you are too bothered about the evils you see in church, complain to the senior pastor or God, not to me because there is nothing I can do about it. Better still, concentrate on developing your personal relationship with God, it will insulate you from the shock you get when Christians fall short of the standards that you have set for them.

I am sorry

Hello readers,
I am sorry that I had the audacity to put up a new post without first apologizing for my long absence. That was very rude of me. I am really sorry. I would try not to let this repeat itself. I really doubt that it would because I have more commitments to this blog now.

I was tied down by my employers, this made me very busy and to lose creativity for a while, but now, am back. Keep your visits constant and you will be sure to have a nice time. And don't forget, I appreciate comments. Thanks

Respect is reciprocal

During a party that my family organized recently, I went to collect food from one of the caterers’ tent and told the lady serving to serve me some things. I noticed that she was not cheerful. As she served the Chinese noodles, a strand was dangling at the edge of the plate but she did not adjust it and I did not have the courage to correct her. When her boss saw it some seconds later, she asked ‘what is this rubbish, why are you so daft?’ I was shocked at her insulting tone because it has been long I heard any boss insult a subordinate.
The countenance of the lady became worse than I met it. She was more sluggish and was frowning through out. It was obvious that if she had her way, she would rain abuses on her boss and walk away. In this day and age, people especially those in the market place should know that the easiest way to get the best out of people is to respect them. Evidently, this would not be the first time the lady will suffer verbal abuse from her boss and because of this, she was not getting the best out of her. What the boss did not know is that it’s her own business that will suffer eventually. It means she is using her attitude to ruin her business and in turn, herself.
As for me, if you call me daft, then I will become daft to you. If you call me useless and I become useless to you, please do not complain. I have heard from so many wives that when a wife respects her husband, she can get almost anything from him. I want to believe this applies a little bit to everyone.

I murdered the Fish

On the first day of this year, I was asked to kill some numbers of mud fish (the one that is popularly called cat fish). If you are familiar with the procedure, you will know that this specie is quite slippery and tricky and if one is not careful, the killer is the one that will be the victim, not the fish. This is why people make sure that when they want to kill them, they temporarily disorient them by hitting their heads slightly, then the killer holds the head (with the tail shaking violently) and decapitates it. Failure to hold the head well might reduce the number of fingers you have on your hand. Even after completely severing the head, it still remains alive for a while. Talk about endurance.

So here I was on Jan 1, trying to kill one of the fish, but instead of hitting the fish slightly, I was too hard on it. Because of the hard covering of the head, it did not break but it got a slight dent. All of a sudden, the fish started shaking fiercely, I see them shake all the time but I had never seen anything like that. I knew that it was in serious pain, then it opened its mouth very wide and the whole body swole, it spew out blood and went still and the whole body relaxed. Fish coughing blood? Things like this happen only in nollywood.

I really pitied the fish because I knew I did not kill it, I murdered it. I was a sad sight to watch. The other person with me also felt bad and any other person that saw the scene would have felt that way also.

It then hit me, if we could feel this bad for a fish we were going to eat, how people able to murder fellow human beings without any feeling of compassion. Some of us are very mean to each other, engaging in extreme human torture. Terrorists use a form of brainwashing to recruit mass murderers, I define this type of brainwashing as washing away one’s conscience.

Also, talk about human riot acts, suicide bombings, war without reason and other forms of terrorism. There was the picture that was circulating on facebook showing some people who had just slaughtered a man. They were holding some parts of the body while the main body was just lying there, it was gory. They obviously had no conscience, and when there is no conscience, there can’t be feeling. Hitting or shooting someone and running away is one thing but someone actually staying there, watching and enjoying the scene as he watches a fellow human suffer to death is in sane. I always thought one of the things that differentiates us from animals is conscience, but tell me, how do these people turn to such inhumane creatures?

Blackberry Craze

‘Why didn’t you buy a blackberry? Why didn’t you buy a blackberry?’ Everyone keeps asking me, when they see my Nokia E63 phone. To say that I have been asked this question over 100 times is not an understatement. There’s this expectation everywhere in Lagos now that, once you need a new phone and can afford an expensive one, then you should go for a blackberry.

I am of the opinion that the place where people abuse this device most is the church. Can you imagine that one day, while I was sitting in church during a service, two people, one on my left and another on my right suddenly brought their blackberry and started using it right in the middle of the sermon. Guess what they were doing: yeah, you guessed right, facebooking and chatting. I was really pissed off. So many had been flashing blackberries in my face for a long time and I can’t even escape into my comfort zone while in church? People even put it as their facebook status, ‘facebooking in church’ or something similar to that, it is really shameless.

I was impressed during cross over service when the guy beside me brought out his blackberry and started taking sermon notes. Though I thought it unnecessary but at least, he was not using it to check facebook notifications. It seemed really funny to me because the people that were using pen and paper were faster and more effective than him. Before he concludes a sentence on point on his blackberry, the pastor would have reeled in about 5 more points. I also wondered why in the past, I never saw people take sermon notes with their Sagem, Trium, Nokia 3310… or Nokia N70, even though these phones have the facility to do that.

The truth is that blackberry was created mainly for business purposes, especially for business and career people who are always on the go but must always have access to their clients and mails all the time. But what do we have now? Every Tom, Dick and Harry uses a blackberry, whether they need it or not, even some youths that do not have enough money to cater for themselves must have that blackberry. To say blackberry has snatched the Nokia market in Lagos would be an understatement. The blackberry that the western worlds have used in the past and wasn’t a big deal to them has hit us and we are still trying to find our balance.

Also, have you also noticed that people that use blackberry don’t refer to it as ‘my phone’ but as ‘my blackberry? Or is it not a phone anymore? Madness!