I almost married the wrong person

As young adults, we are most probably familiar with the fact that many disappointments are blessings in disguise. Yesterday, an incident flashed through my mind that made me remember this, and just smile.

Two Decembers ago, when I had accepted that I wasn’t being as sociable as I should be, thereby making me open to matchmaking as a means of making up for the resulting consequences of my ‘socialless’ life, my friend invited me to go with her siblings and their friends for paint balling.

I was friends with her siblings too, so it wasn’t a strange gathering for me. Her brother, who was the main organiser brought some of his friends, who also brought their friends, siblings, in-laws, etc. It was basically a cool gathering of working class adults who wanted to have fun in a sane atmosphere… and a place where you should be able to meet one or two eligible bachelors, lol.

We got there, settled down, and I noticed one of his friends was looking at me from time to time. Bad news was that he brought a girl to the gathering. The boy was what you would call ‘very finnnnneeeee’ – Tall, not really dark, and very handsome. The girl was mixed race, and extremely beautiful. However, she scowled throughout the duration of the event. She stayed alone, and didn’t talk to a single soul. From time to time, this guy would go to sit with her, say some words to her, just to make conversation, and she would scowl even more. We didn’t know the exact relationship between them.

Anyway, the paint balling was over, we had snacks, and left. When she dropped me at home, she suggested that she could hook me up with the guy in question (who is actually her childhood friend). I told her I noticed the guy looked at me from time to time. We talked about the mixed race girl, and laughed at her terrible attitude.

My friend told me about the guy, and his family. I did my own little research on the guy on social media, and he seemed like someone I would like to know more, and date – cool headed, good family, Christian, calm, etc.

Two weeks later, my friend gave me feedback about the situation. Mr Man was really serious about Miss Mixed Race, and was about to take it to the next level with her. So, nothing for me, sorry. To say that I was pained was an understatement.

Exactly a year later, I was at a hotel, taking my professional engagement pictures. We moved to the lounge for more picture taking. There was a guy sitting there, who we had to beg to change his position, so we could get an angle we were aiming for in the picture. He gladly obliged.

It was then I noticed his trousers, and then his face. It was the same trousers he wore when I met him. There were some features that made it unique, which made it easy for me to recognise it anywhere. I looked at him again, and then called him by name.

I asked if he remembered me, and he said I was familiar. It was really strange, with me all in my engagement attire, chatting up this guy looking casual like he was just coming from the gym. I reminded him of who I was, and how and where we met. He then asked what was exactly was happening, why I was all dressed up, and taking pictures. It seemed like the most stupid question ever to me. Wasn’t it obvious? I told him I was getting married, and just taking pictures.

The guy was somewhere beside me in this picture

I told my friend about the encounter. I then found out that it never worked between him and the mixed race lady (big surprise?), and he could be slow and sluggish at times… and basically hadn’t made much of a progress in the space of that one year when I met him, and when I met him again.

I later pondered on this ‘coincidence’, how on December 2015, I meet a guy whom if I had been given the chance, I would have jumped ship with, and November 2016, while getting married, I see, basically doing nothing. So if I had gotten my wish then, I probably would have jumped in and then out, and wouldn’t have met the guy I eventually got married to.

I personally think that second meeting wasn’t a coincidence. It was just God’s way of reminding me/us that sometimes, when we don’t get that thing that we think is good for us, it is because there’s something better awaiting us, and our ‘wish’ was never in God’s plan for us in the first place.

What do you think about this? Has something like this ever happened to you… you missing out on something, only to find out it was a blessing in disguise?

The Robot who dressed in Human Flesh

Source

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

But…

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.

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?

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.

Ellipsis

What do you do when after a long time of following a route, you realize that you have made a terrible mistake?

You really thought you were on the right path

You were so sure, you could bet your life's savings

Now, you have been dealt with the heavy dose of your wrongness

And then it dawns on you that you have to start all over again

But it is really painful because you really thought you were on the right track

What do you do?

Will you live in regret of your decisions for the rest of your life

While drowning yourself in tears

Wallowing in the miry clay

Saying "why me, why me? When will my story change?"

No!

You will...

Acknowledge your mistakes

Accept that the fault was yours

Cry a bit

Dust yourself up

Retrace your steps back to the beginning

And start all over again!

Cascaded Little Things

My cousins came to visit us in Nigeria, after 15 years of being away. A total of 5 siblings left, the youngest being 2, and the oldest, 13. Three of them came to visit, and they ranged from 17 years old to 26 years old. It was really fun hanging out with them, but that I am not ready to bore you with the details of our fun, in this post. I want to mention one or two lessons I learnt from hanging out with them.

Of course, they were shocked about how much Nigeria had changed, positively and negatively. Immediately they came, I started feeling for them because NIDs receive their welcoming shockers right from the international airport, talk less of those that have no idea of what Nigeria looks like.

We went to Genesis Deluxe cinemas to catch a movie, in order to avoid the Jakande-Ajah week day traffic. After the movie ended, the youngest one looked around, and told her brothers “I don’t think we are supposed to take that.”

Apparently, my three cousins, out of habit, carried their bottles and popcorn packs to go and dump in the trash, while every single person in the hall, including me, left ours where we had sat during the movie. One of the boys said “We are the only ones packing up. Everyone will know we are not from around here,” in his American accent. They started looking around for trash cans as we walked out of the viewing room, but they did not find and until we got out, towards the ticket sales stand.

I tried to cover it up with smiles and senseless talk of how the cleaners will come and pack it all up, and they shouldn’t have bothered packing up, but inside of me, I was ashamed. These guys were sticking out like sore thumbs, just because they conducted themselves properly in a system where chaos is normal.

Two days later, we went to ice cream factory, again to avoid the Jakande-Ajah traffic. We sat outside, under the shade. Three of us had cones, while one had cup. When we were about to leave, instinctively, my cousin took his cup, went into the restaurant, searched for a trash can, dumped it, and came out. It was very instinctive. It had become part of him, so much so that he was not even thinking when he did it. It was quite robotic. I didn’t say anything this time. I just watched and observed him.

Earlier that day, we were in front of yellow chilli, and waiting in line to park inside, for about 30 seconds, and then the security guy beckoned on me to drive into the compound, and one car behind us just swerved, and wanted to take my space. Like seriously? He wasn’t even hiding his senselessness. My cousins observed what happened, and couldn’t believe their eyes. To say they were shocked was an understatement. They couldn’t believe a human being with a human brain, and not a goat brain, just did that.

I mumbled something like ‘that’s how many people do here o. They said if it happened in the US, everyone will get down from their car, and fish the guy out, lol.

At Genesis Deluxe cinemas, two of my cousins waited in line to get our drink and popcorn for the four of us, cos we didn’t think all four of us had to queue. Then a girl came out of nowhere to beg my cousin to get her own drink and popcorn, because her movie was showing. The thing is our movie too was already showing. He, being the Mr nice guy of them all, agreed, and then she brought out like three popcorn and drink tickets. Seriously? He realised she just wanted to use him to cheat her way through the queue, and he was already getting stuff for us anyway. He respectfully declined, and told her point blank that it wasn’t fair for everyone that was on the queue. He didn’t tell me about it until two days later.

I then realised that it is little actions like these that form a cascaded effect in setting apart countries like Nigeria from developed countries. Largely, we lack the culture of responsibility, being responsible for things as minor as your trash, staying in line, and respecting other people’s time. In my opinion, this is not a government or leadership problem. This is a system issue. The government doesn’t tell us not to pick our trash, but the system supports litter. We are even encouraged to litter cinema halls and restaurants, while our servants pack up after us.

The thing is we all know this is wrong. We travel out a lot, and see things being done properly, and even do things properly ourselves. So we know we have the ability to do things properly. But it sometimes takes us observing people like my cousins to come into this same system, do things different, and watch them stick out like a sore thumb, for us to know that what we are doing is not normal.

Even though I bring you no big solution, we can start small by doing little things right, things we don’t need anyone to tell us, things like not jumping queues, not littering roads or public places, not trying to be too smart, not being impatient, not running red lights, etc.

If each and every one of us can do this, you will be shocked at how much these little things will go a long way in making a big difference in restoring order to this chaotic system.

All kids of two sisters. Same blood, different mindsets.

Close Shaves Series – part 5: The ritualist story

Before reading this post, if you haven't voted for me, please, take about 20 seconds to vote for African Naturalistas hair products for the youth entrepreneurship competition. It requires just one click. Pleeeaaaaasssee. Thank you in advance. Click here to vote now, and come back to continue reading the post after.

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I remember on a particular Sunday in June 2005. I was on my way to my university campus, and had to stand at the bus stop closest to my home to wait for a bus. It was while waiting for a bus that a man came to strike a conversation with me. Before I knew it, a car pulled up in front of us, asking for directions to a certain place.

Due to the persuasions of the guy that had come to speak with me earlier, I acted out character, and got into the car that pulled up in front of us, after they offered to give us a ride, since I had helped them with their directions. I got into the car, and it took off.

While in the car, a man seated at the passenger’s side in front started saying that one of us (either me or the other guy) was planning to travel, and that the person should not travel, because he won't come back alive. The other guy said it is true, that it was him, and he started shaking, saying “how did you know?” and basically fidgeting and hailing the “prophet.”

So the prophet turned to me, and said he has something to say to me. He said that some people were trying to tamper with my destiny. The other guy was still fidgeting, and trying to interrupt, and the prophet shut him up. I looked at the prophet well, and the woman driving...

Rewine…. eniweR

Earlier that afternoon, I had gone to the salon to relax and set my hair, and the TV station was tuned to Nkan Nbe, by Kolawole Olawuyi. If you don’t know it, this is the time to go to google. Let’s just say Nkan Mbe stories, as surreal as they seem, are very real. If you did not believe them, cos you thought they were stranger than fiction, now is the time to start. Anyway, so they featured this woman, she was very restless, and jumping up and down like a mad woman. She said she met a man and a woman who asked her something, and when she answered, they started telling her many things about herself that nobody could know. They told her there was something that had been planted in her body, and would kill her soon, and they would help her remove it. So they took her somewhere, and she opened her legs, and they brought out several red strips of clothings and some other things out of her vagina. I saw all the items on the TV program, with my korokoro eyes. They asked her to describe the people, and she did, in vivid deatail. By the time the program was over, they had not yet found a way to solve her problem, but they warned viewers to be careful, as the ritualists were still on the prowl.

Back to present 

It was at this point I realized they all knew one another, and I had just been kidnapped by ritualists. Not just any ritualist, but the ones who carried the woman in Nkan Mbe, her description the people was etched in my brain. I matched every single face she described to the three people in the car with me. I was very scared, but my fear did not show on my face. I only smiled faintly as the man in front (the prophet), continued to talk to me, while I continued to keep silent.

The man looked at my hair and said I am feeling fly because of my hair. He said that where I made my hair earlier in the day, someone packed my hair strands from the floor in order to tamper with my destiny, but they can help me. He said I think people like me, but one day, someone put something under a doormat, and I stepped on the doormat, and they deposited something in my body. Of course, I already knew he was going to say this because that is what they told the Nkan Mbe woman. I kept on smiling. He now said they can help me remove the strange things in my body. He started asking me questions, when he saw I was not saying anything. The Holy spirit just kept telling me “don’t say a word. Whatever you do, don’t open your mouth.” so I kept on smiling, even though on the inside, I was scared, and had no way of escape. I knew there and then that if I spoke to that man, I was gone, cos he would use his fetish powers to find out things about me, that he would not ordinarily know.

He tried more tricks to get me to talk, but I did not budge.

By this time, the car was on very high speed on the express, so there was nothing I could do to escape. After a while, the man called me arrogant and puffed up, because after everything he had said to make me feel agitated, I did not look bothered, and I kept smiling. I knew the only way to get out of my situation was to keep silent, and that the moment I replied the man, things would not go well because he would diabolically use my statements against me. Till today, I am still amazed at the confidence I radiated on the outside, because on the inside, I was crying, and begging God to save me.

After a while, it was the man that started getting agitated. He was really accusing me. It was as if he knew that I knew what he was up to. Maybe he thought I was a witch, and he had carried bad market. As for me, I knew it was just the God in me. I could say he must have even been scared. He looked scared, and started insulting me, saying I was arrogant, and I think I know everything.

As we approached the place I was to alight, I faced the woman driving, and said

"Please, drop me here. This is where I am going." or something like that

By now, I was really praying they would oblige since I was at their mercy. Without hesitation, the lady pulled over, and I got down from the car, heaving a great sigh of relief. I had just been delivered from the claws of evil.

This story is very special to me because it was a close shave for me that day. I was saved, by no power of my own. I could have lost my life or mind, like the Nkan Mbe woman, and disappeared from the face of the earth, but I am alive to tell the story today. God saved me.

A new kind of scam in Nigeria

I was lying gently on my bed when what looked like recharge card numbers came as a text message on my phone. Since I wasn't expecting such gift from anyone, I decided to call the number that sent me the 'credit' to find out whom God laid on his heart to bless me this Holiday season. I then remembered that I had no credit on my phone, and decided to go out to get credit. As I was going downstairs, a call came on my phone. The caller said one Baba in Ife wanted to send credit to his son in school, and mistakenly sent it to my number. I felt relieved that I didn't have to stress myself to get credit again, and I told the guy I was also wondering why someone will send me credit. I told him I was just about to go and get credit to call the number, and that they should not worry, that I did not load it. They should use the credit.

The guy said he wanted me to text the credit back because the Baba threw the voucher away before he realised his mistake. I told him the message should be in the sent items. The guy said the Baba doesn't really know much about phones, that I should please send it back. Disappointed that I still had to get the credit after all, I proceeded to go and buy it.

About two minutes after I sent the credit, the guy called me back and said the Baba is really grateful, and wants to personally thank me. Then he passed the phone, and I heard one shrill voice that sounded forced.

Source

The guy started thanking me profusely and praying for me, my finances, future, family, husband, and everything you can imagine. If you are a regular reader of this blog, you would know by now that when strange or shocking things happen to me, my immediate reaction is to start smiling, with a sarcastic grin on my face. In the face of grave danger, I have been known to have this look. This was the same look on my face when the Baba was praying. He asked for my name, I told him. He said shebi I live in Lagos, I said yes. He asked where I work, I said I don't work. He kept on praying. It was all those very intense Yoruba prayers. After a while, the prayer was getting too long, and I was becoming tired and suspicious. He now said the reason why he's asking for where I work is so that he can pray for me to excel at work. I said I don't work. I expected him to end the call. He still kept on praying. So I just cut the call on him.

Two weeks later, I was chatting on my BB, which is not my primary phone. Emails and messages came in, but I couldn’t read them because I was still chatting with someone. Next thing, a call comes in and I pick. The guy goes, one Baba in Ife wanted to send credit to his son, but mistakenly… Immediately I heard Baba, Ife, and Credit, I just cut the line. I checked my text message, and behold it was a string of recharge card numbers that I am sure were fake. The guy called again, I cut it again.

About 5 minutes later, the guy called once more. I picked it and said "Look here, look here. Don’t come and be yarning dust for me. You called me two weeks ago, saying this same rubbish, and one Baba was saying fake prayers…”

This time, it was the guy that cut the line.

I just want to warn people out there. This is the new kind of scam going on. If they can call two different lines of mine in a space of two weeks, I wonder how many people they would have reached.

These people are most likely identity thieves, and they use a technique call Social Engineering. All they need is very few basic details about you, and they will get all other information enough to clear you out. It is easy for them to get the vulnerable ones. Unfortunately for them, they met a like mind in me. I have been scheming from my mother’s womb, and I know that if not that God saved me a long time ago, I would most likely be a female fraudster. Where their own ends, that’s where my own starts. Rubbish people.

I want to burst some bloggers' bubbles

Hi people. I think I need to be whipped, cos I have been feel like being mischievous recently, which is really unlike me. But for now, I just feel like busting some people's bubbles. All you curious bloggers will thank me for this, cos as some people know, most times, I really cannot be bothered.

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1. You know that scripture in the bible which says we cannot hide anything from God? If you don't know, check Hebrews 4:13. That saying applies to your blog posts 100%. What I mean is once you type something in your blog, and hit that publish button, it is over! I repeat, it is over! It can never ever be undone. You can backdate it, update it, reschedule it, but it can never be deleted. This is because there are feeds attached to your blog, so even if you delete the post, it would have fed to who ever has subscribed to your blogs. When I see someone has put up a post, and has deleted it, I just laugh, get more curious, and go to my 'backyard' to read the deleted post. This is the reason why you have to be sure you want to let that thing out before hitting the publish button. I am writing this because I read something a feed from a blogger on my phone today, which I felt was pretty revealing, so I wanted to see the kinds of comment people would drop on her blog, only to see that she had deleted it post. But here it was, sitting on my phone, and also in the feeds of God-knows-how-many-people who are connected to her blog. I know you want to know how to find deleted posts, but be patient, I would get to that.

People, I know you always hear statements like "say whatever you like on your blog, it is your personal space, if people don't like it, they shouldn't come by, etc." I was even guilty of telling Simply Mee that recently. I retract my statement now. Contrary to whatever opinion you might have, your blog is not your diary! If it is something you would ashamed to show your mother, boss, spouse or future spouse, don't publish it on the internet. You shouldn't just write everything and anything, especially if you are not an anonymous blogger. This also reminds me about what Naijalines wrote about Freedom of Speech being a myth. I completely agree with her. Be careful what you put out there, it might come back to bite you in the butt.

I am begging you. Please, please, please. I know you might be young and carefree now, because you might be in your twenties or so, but please, have foresight. Foresight is the ability to envisage the future based on your current actions. All the vulgar words, curses, and all can act against you in future. Even if you are anonymous, some people can still know you. I am one blogger that has met quite a number of bloggers, not only in Nigeria, in person, including anonymous bloggers. I have them on my BB and we are friends, and trust me, I will be meeting more in future, so that anonymous thing is not absolute. Remember, once you hit the publish button, it can never be undone. You can sin against God, and God will forgive you and remember your sins no more, but blogger never forgives, it remembers your sins for life!

So to the people who are interested in sniffing out deleted posts, I will burst the bubble now. It is easy. Just go to your google reader, and that's where all posts, including the deleted ones sit, waiting innocently to soil the owners' names, should there be any need for it.

2. Onto less serious matters. I noticed some people for make the text colour of the number of their followers the same as the number of their background, so people won't know the number of their followers. I also noticed people who do this have very few followers, so I am guessing they don't want people to know this fact. First things first, there is nothing wrong with having few followers, take that from someone who had only four followers for over a year, because I had no idea what blogging really entailed. So if you have few followers and it is bothering you, instead of wasting your time hiding the fact, concentrate on getting followers by being blog friendly, and putting up quality posts.

If you want to follow someone, and you notice you cannot find the number of their followers, don't worry, I am about to burst their bubble. Highlight the area where the number of their followers is supposed to be, like you want to copy the text. Immediately you highlight, you will see the text appear in white, against the background.

Yes, so I have been mischievous again. But seriously, I hope you would look beyond my mischief and be careful about what you put out there, especially if you are not comfortable with people knowing such things about you. Remember, once its done, it can never be undone!

Six ways to become a modern day Marriage Counsellor/Relationship Expert by Atilola Moronfolu

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The days of having to spend money going to expensive counselling school in the US is over. Who says you have to waste precious time reading all those books and engaging in those time wasting psycho analysis, just because you want to be a respected marriage counsellor?

There are sure better and faster ways to becoming a marriage or relationship expert, especially in this age when the pressure to get married is so high, and the one to get divorced is even higher, your skills as a relationship expert is definitely going to be worth a lot, especially if you use avenues where people can assess this expertise of your, like the internet.

So here are six sure fast ways to become a marriage or relationship expert

1. Get married

What better way to become a marriage expert than living the experience yourself. Get married, and use your experience as a blanket method to advise everyone. It doesn’t matter if your relationship with your spouse is unique. It doesn’t matter if the person whose relationship problem you are trying to solve is in a courtship with someone who likes beans, while your spouse likes rice. Don’t care about differences in personalities. As long as you are married, whether the marriage is 1 minute old, 1 day old, or 100 years old, you are automatically a relationship expert.

Also, no one cares if you are happy in your marriage, sad, battered, have been keeping malice with your spouse for the past six months or six years. As long you got a ring on your finger, you are automatically are a relationship expert.

2. Get divorced

This is another fast way to be a relationship expert. You are more equipped in recognising the signs of a bad marriage, who not to marry, and who not to date. The more divorces you have on your hands, the more certificates of marriage counselling you are equipped with, the more people respect this expertise of yours. You sure will be getting a lot of sad married women as customers.

So yes go ahead and get divorced. Who says your pain has to be wasted? You can cash out it by becoming a relationship expert.

3. Be a prophet or seer

It doesn’t matter what your state is… rich, poor, tall, short, thin, fat, whatever. As long as you are a prophet, you will be seeing visions that God will reveal to only you. He won’t reveal to either of the parties in the relationship or marriage. After all, they are not blessed with the prophetic gift you have. As long as you are a prophet, God will tell you who kola should or shouldn’t marry, without informing kola. He will tell you how many kids Angela should have, and what she should be cooking for her husband every morning and night.

In fact when you are a prophet, you will become a relationship expert with the highest form of control, as we give great respect to our prophets on this side of the world. So yes, become a prophet/seer to be a counsellor, and if you can’t become one, lie that you are one. it’s really difficult to know the difference. Trust me.

4. Be a modern day pastor

This is another relationship expert that has almost as much control as the prophet. It doesn’t matter when you were ordained pastor, or what ministry you were called to. Whether your calling is warfare, deliverance, holiness preaching, prosperity preaching, motivational preaching, or any other specific one God calls pastors to concentrate on. As long as you are a pastor, you are a qualified marriage counsellor. Your congregation will not even be bothered about how you treat your wife, whether you love her like Christ loves the church, whether you beat her, or belt her, whether you give attention to your kids, or put the church before your family. No one cares.

It will also do you good not to address the issues when your sheep come running to you when there is a problem in their relationship or marriage. Just tell them that what God wants is for them to go back home, and close your eyes to the real issues. Once you are pastor-something, you are an automatic marriage counsellor and relationship expert. And the good thing is that the ladies will love you, especially the ones who have a problem in their marriage. The thing is, you must be careful lest you are tempted to fill the vacuum their husbands have refused to fill, so you won’t be relieved from your pastoral responsibilities, and lose that precious relationship expert certificate, and you will have to stop practising.

5. Be a musician or any other kind of celebrity

Once you are a musician, and have the ability to spew words, add beats to them, and get a dead club jamming, you are automatically a relationship expert. Go on twitter, Facebook, etc., and let the whole world know your opinion about relationships and marriages. Your ever-loyal twitter followers and Facebook fans will be sure to spread your sagacious words to the public. It doesn’t matter whether you are married, single, or divorced, holy or a saint, frat member or cultist, whether you lick tom-tom, or smoke weed publicly, sing meaningful songs or thrashy meaningless songs, or whatever. As long as you are a celebrity, the world will respect the fact that you could rise above many and become famous, however you were able to achieve that. You will automatically be respected as a relationship expert and marriage counsellor.

6. Be a blogger/commenter

If you can’t do any of the above for now, start a blog… any kind of blog, but romance blog or occasional romance articles will work best in your interest. You can either be a known face or anonymous. We don’t care. As long as you can drive traffic to your blog, we will see you as a relationship expert. Start a 'ask the blogger' series, advise us, tell us what you feel is right about sex and courtship, it would even do you good to be forceful about it. We really don’t care about your credentials or history. The fact that you are only accessible online will prevent people who don’t agree with your views from stoning you.

If you are too lazy to start a romance blog, just become a regular commenter on such blogs. As long as you are consistent in commenting on such blogs, you will be noticed, and recognised as a marriage counsellor and relationship expert.

So yes, these are six ways to drive the marriage counselling experts out of business. Pick the one most convenient for you and you are sure to be cashing in some bucks very soon.

Atilola’s words.

This article wasn’t written to diss any particular person, so if anyone feels am talking to them or anyone, you are wrongly mistaken, and I am sorry for the misunderstanding.

I wrote this post because I noticed that in recent times, everyone has become a relationship expert, which is ironic because, the more these so-called expert advices are flying around, the more relationships and marriage are failing.

My own opinion is that marriage is a good thing, and God is the author of marriage. If you have problem with your Honda car, you would most likely take it to 'The Honda Place' for repairs if you can afford it. So why is it that now that we are having problems with courtship and marriage, we are not turning to God, the manufacturer, for help? We would rather listen to the six personalities mentioned above, people who might even be in the same problem or worse than us.

Counselling is good and necessary at times, but choose your counsellors wisely. 

We need a major Rank Shifting in Nigeria

Before I get to the order of the day, please can you do me a favour? I am on bended knees. I would please like you to please support my hair blog, African Naturalistas, by voting it as the Best Topical Blog of the year in the Nigerian Blog Awards. I promise that you won't be asked to pay. We would really appreciate it if you support us by voting us as the winner of this category. It will help create more awareness for the blog. Anyone can vote irrespective of citizenship or location, you don't have to be a Nigerian or be resident in Nigeria. If you don't know what blogs to vote in other categories because you are not a Nigerian, it's fine. Just vote for the blog as the Best Topical Blog. Click here to vote now, as voting ends on 11 November 2012. Thank you in anticipation.

Many of us have been complaining that 'Nigeria is bad, Nigerians are voiceless, nothing good can ever come out of Nigeria,' and all those depressing statements we unconsciously prophesy into the future of our country. What many people agree on is the fact that for Nigeria to change, the mind-set and attitude of a lot of Nigerians would have to change. Right from the person that complains about the government, but don't fail to throw thrash on the express road immediately after LAWMA officials sweep it, to the ones that say our leaders are corrupt, but would not hesitate to pay for 'Special centre' for their kids to write JAMB or WAEC exam.

We need a major shift in our mind-set, and someone very close to me, Dayo Nigeria,  has tried to do justice to that, in his new book 'The Rank Shifting'

It isn't just like every other book, but one that traces any attempt to build a nation to the individuals in the nation. A country is just a name, that only gets her identity through the people that live in it. Therefore, if any meaningful transformation would happen, the author believes that it can only happen when the citizens of the country themselves have been transformed.

The summary is that it takes only a transformed man to get involved in transforming a nation. It all starts with personal grooming.

So are you interested in this major rank-shifting, or do you know who will do well from reading it? You can get a copy of this book from Eden Christian Library, Obafemi Awolowo University... Young Disciples International, No 1, YDI str, LASU/Isheri Expressway, Hotel Bus stop, Igando Lagos, or call Daniel on 08058669338, 07036027017 to get a copy

You can check more about the book on their facebook page here.

Book Launch – Against the Perfect Will by Rita Okoroafor

I got to attend the book launch Against the Perfect Will, by Rita of Ero inspirations two weeks ago. I must say that I thoroughly benefited from attending this launch, as I got to know Rita better and found out what inspired her to write this book.

Rita is very unassuming, she carries on the inside a wealth of experience and knowledge which you cannot judge, just by looking on the outside. I got to know her as very intelligent (raised to power 100 and more) and driven.

For me, her book launch revealed that the book is very relevant to our times. It projects the real issues young people in our times face, and I am sure that everyone alive has one or two lessons to pick from the book.

I also enjoyed the small chops shared at the Book Launch, lol.

But seriously, you really need to read the book, I can assure you that it will be worth your while.

The synopsis goes thus

Omolola Aderemi (also called Lola in the book) is my main character. Lola is an intelligent, talented, focused young girl. She was raised in a Christian home. She is reserved and easy going. She did have her flaws – she was very clingy (she always needed someone by her side), she was a bit of a conservative, and she was totally unprepared for exposure.

She was very close to two people – her father, whom she lost to lung cancer when she turned seventeen, and her best friend Tolu, whom she had known since she was five years old. Lola’s relationship with her mother and siblings was a bit cordial.

Lola had great dreams of becoming a pediatrician. Against the Perfect Will is a story of how here strength of character was tested, and the resulting consequences.

The book can be found at amazon.com; barnesandnobles.com. There are both hard copies and soft copies (kindle, nook, etc). In Lagos they can be found at Patabah books (Shop B18, Adeniran Ogunsanya Shopping Mall, Surulere). For those in Lekki 1, Victoria Island and Ikoyi, you can be contacted her directly to pick copies of the book. There are currently limited copies in Port Harcourt - to be restocked in 2 weeks time.

The Scriptwriter

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The atmosphere in the cinema was charged. The air of mystery was very strong; no one knew what would happen next. The heroine was in serious trouble. Her situation had been getting worse with the progression of each scene.

The hero had been captured and was shackled in the dungeon. The blood of the heroine was about to be spilled. The villain was getting the victory and laughing heartily. It was a loud and bitter laugh. Everyone that had tried rescuing the heroine had been violently eliminated from the story. The only hope was the hero, but he was nowhere to be found.

The heroine was still in distress. The villain approached her, flashing his devilish grin and brandishing his shiny dagger. Evil was winning and good seemed to be losing the war. The movie was turning awry. The movie viewers were tensed. They shifted restlessly at the edge of their seats. They wanted to know how this story would end.

Suddenly, the villain lifted the dagger above the heroine, ready to strike and the movie audience started murmuring audibly. By this time, some people had their faces in their palms, they couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Some others had jumped up from their seats in apprehension. Everyone was exhibiting one form of anxiety or the other. Everyone... except one man!

The man sitting beside this exceptional man noticed the calm demeanour he had, and wondered why he wasn’t moved by this movie that seemed to shake even the most stone-cold heart. After a while, the seat partner looked at him again and kept wondering what was wrong with him.

He finally braced himself to ask the question that had now occupied his mind. ‘Excuse me sir. What exactly is wrong? Can’t you feel in tension in the air? Can’t you see the heroine is in trouble and about to go down? Can’t you see the hero is nowhere to be found? Can’t you see that evil seems to be prevailing over good? Why do you remain so calm? Are you so cold-hearted that such a strong movie scene cannot move you, when everyone has almost pissed in their pants?

The exceptional man smiled gently and replied, ‘Oh no sir. There is no need for me to be moved, I was the one who wrote the script of the movie!’

This above... is my true life story. I fret no more. The scriptwriter is control.

Selah.

The Sins of our Past: Bad Generation

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This is not  fiction.

My family moved to a 3-bedroom flat on the street I currently stay, two weeks before my second birthday. Almost all the houses in the estate were storey buildings of several 3-bedroom flats. However, there was this building that looked out of place in the estate. It was the only unpainted building, and the only face to face building. 

At about five years old, I was already conscious of the difference in our status in life. My friends and I referred to the kids living in that house as 'children of the uncompleted building’. It wasn’t that the building wasn’t completed, but for us, the building just looked to out of place for us to see it as ‘complete’.

We went to private schools, there barely made it through public schools, we went to universities, they learnt trades or became miscreants. We had cars, they did not. We gossiped about them, they gossiped about us. We said they were unruly, they said we were proud. That was the normal life we lived.

It was Blessing I first heard the word 'Bad Generation' from. I don’t know how the name came about, but I think her family must have started referring to ‘children of the uncompleted building’ as the Bad Generation kids, because of the little mischief the caused here and there. They played on the streets, their clothes were dirty, they rolled bicycle tyres with sticks, they could not speak English, they talked without respect, etc. So I guess no one argued when they heard them being referred to as the Bad Generation kids.

Before long, this name caught flame in the mouth of every single person in the estate. They were no longer the ‘children of the uncompleted building’. They were Bad Generation, everyone’s father called them Bad Generation, everyone’s mother called them Bad Generation, every single person called them Bad Generation. It was their label, it was normal. Whether the bad generation kids were aware that we called them by this name, I am not sure. Even if they knew, I am not sure they would have understood the meaning of the name.

My estate was quite peaceful and free of violence and the likes. This is because, when I was young, there was a period when armed robbers tried tormenting my estate, so our parents formed a vigilante. Our fathers had guns, and they took rounds to protect the estate. If a thief was caught, he was shot in the leg and then handed over to the police. No arguments! After a while, robbers never came to the area. They were scared of my estate.

By the time we were teenagers, some of the Bad Generation kids dropped out of secondary school. Blessing and her family moved to their house in Ikorodu. Ada, my second friend, moved out of area with her family and later moved to their own house. A lot of my childhood friends left the area. But not my family... my father built a fourteen bedroom mansion directly opposite the three bedroom flat we lived, and so unlike my friends and their families, I was stuck on my street, at least, until a man decided to change my surname and move me out of my father’s house.

But....

Many fathers moved out of the area, the former landlords we met there grew very old. There were only two middle aged landlords. My father and a man we called Mr Glory. Because of this inevitable occurrence, the vigilante started losing its protective hold over the estate.

At this time... the Bad Generation kids had grown. For most of them, they had turned out to be bad, just like we had spoken negatively into their lives. Their numbers had increased, because they had brought friends of theirs to live with them. Some of them became vocational workers, some of them became miscreants, one of them was a confirmed armed robber, none of them was educated. But at least, my estate was still peaceful. Then...

My father died... mid age...

My house is like this very big dead house. Loads and loads of rooms, with no one to sleep in them. I live in the house with my mother, brother and sister. My mother gets home earliest, which is 7.00pm. The rest of us start getting home around 10.00pm. We live in a monumental waste. The Bad Generation kids cramp themselves in their face to face rooms, rooms smaller than the smallest room in my house, approximately about seven people in each. The gap between my family and theirs has grown wider over the years but no one blinks at this. It was normal. We all kept minding our businesses.

After my dad’s death, this left Mr Glory to protect the area. Somehow, the new set of young fathers who had moved to the estate were not as active as our fathers had been. Maybe it is because thought they had nothing to fear.

Mr Glory had seven children, but one of them refused education and home training, and turned out to be a thorn in his flesh. He became just like the Bad Generation kids, caused problem for his family, smoked weed, destroyed his father’s properties, beat people up and did every kind of bad thing one can think of. No one said anything, it was not our problem, it was Mr Glory’s problem and he would do well to sort it out. Then again...

Mr Glory died... mid age...

The Bad Generation have multiplied... they torment the estate. They organised robbers to steal the cars of estate residents. After the incident, guns and hard drugs were found in the building beside Mr Glory’s, something that could never have happened if Mr Glory were alive. We now live in fear, the cause of our insecurities resides with us, but there is nothing we can do about it for now.

In the past, when we were young, we laughed at them, we called them names, they were the Bad Generation kids, we were the good ones. Now we have grown, we are educated, we have good jobs, we have cars. They torment us, rob us and steal our cars. It seems the sins of our past have caught up with us... poke their fingers in our eyes... laugh at us... right in our faces.

* The name of Mr Glory has been changed to protect the identity of the person

The God of Visas

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This article of mine was featured on Information Nigeria some weeks back. I am sure you will enjoy it and have one or two things to comment. Read on...


‘I hope you all brought your International Passports as we announced last week. Everybody, raise your International Passports. Lift it high to the heavens.
I decree and declare that, in Jesus name, your passports will never be denied visa. Favour will accompany your passport wherever it gets to in Jesus name.
You have to be careful of the people you allow to touch your passport. Some of you allow people touch your passports anyhow, not knowing that those people want to draw you back in life. They don’t want you to have the opportunity to travel so that life can be good for you. So they rub fetish things on their hands and touch your passport and that is why you keep getting denied visa.
Now, raise your passport again. I cancel the effects of every negative contact your passport has made. I decree and declare that you will never be denied visa anywhere your passport reaches, in Jesus name.
I challenge you today, after this anointing service, go and apply for that visa. You and all your family. You won’t be denied.’

This is just a brief summary of the exact scenario I witnessed in a church recently.
Is it just me or is there something wrong with this scene? If we don’t think there’s something wrong with it, then maybe we are facing a bigger problem than I envisaged. This is the level of desperation that the Nigerian system has subjected its citizens to. A life where 6 months Visa has now become a prayer point. And when the Visa is obtained, the whole church dances as a show of thanksgiving for 5 minutes. It is not a good sight to behold. This is synonymous to misery. Where going to another man’s land has become the main essence of some people’s Christianity.

At this service, I could see the reactions of the congregation to these prayer points. The zeal was apparent on their faces, as they lifted their passports high. They kept shaking their head and prayed fervently to God to make the ‘impossible to become possible.’
In my own opinion, some people have decided to take advantage of the vulnerability of suffering Nigerians and used it to trivialize the Christian walk. We now conduct International Passport anointing services. The pastor here portrayed the situation like getting out of Nigeria is synonymous to living a better life. It was as if, once you get out of the country, your life will suddenly be better. There was no talk of job opportunities there, no talk of education, nothing. Just get out of Nigeria and you will immediately start walking on streets of gold.

They failed to mention that the reason why some Nigerians are being denied Visas is because they don’t fill their forms accurately. Some don’t have enough means to take care of themselves when they get to this ‘Promised Land’, some don’t even have where to stay when they get there. But we must all try their luck and apply, mustn’t we? Who knows, the anointing might work when they CES officer sees our passport, so he will refuse to check our application and automatically give us Visa to his country. And woe betide us if we are denied, oh well, the witches caused it.

Well, as it is the culture of the average Nigerian to blame someone, I must also look for someone or something to blame for this appalling scenario I witnessed. But who? Is it the government that doesn’t ensure that Nigeria is not a country in which every single citizen is dying to run out of? Is it the pastor that has decided to base his anointing on anointing passports, rather than people? After all, he must make a living. Or is it the desperate citizens that have decided to turn a blind eye to the endless opportunities in this country, even though it seems like we are going down by the minute? Who exactly will my blame wand point to if I spin it? Well, I refuse to spin it for now. After all, the saying goes, it is the instrument of your need that God will use to draw you closer to him. And what is the need for most Nigerians now? Visa to the Promised Land.
 

GEJ + Subsidy + Protest

I think this is gonna be a short post cos I don't feel too good. I have been going through some things and I don't have the strength to rant.

I am breaking the no-politics-zone-blog protocol, this time, in order to join the blog protest. I drove today without AC, like I have been doing for the past one week because when I budgeted fuel money, I didn't remove subsidy from it. Jona pulled the rug under my feet so I had to cut some things and in the end, it looked like I had just taken my bath in my car, I am not finding it funny at all.

Maybe the reason I can't complain too much is because I never expected anything from Jona. I actually saw all these coming and refused to vote for him, even when Christian leaders were campaigning for him. I made my decision because of the way he treated the whole campaign thing and never partook in any debate. He only had eyes for D'Banj. I was convinced he had nothing to offer me and would have been surprised if he had actually done good. I also think he should stop talking, cos he doesn't know how to talk.

I told some people that I wish this guy would be asked to leave cos as long as he is there, only God will ensure that something good comes out of this country. Even if the subsidy is removed, loads of other issues that he won't be able to solve will come up. But my friends told me that I am just wasting my time and not being realistic, as it won't happen. I for one don't believe he can govern us or he is the right man for the country but the truth is that what is done is done. I also know that he is not the one really leading this country, which makes the whole thing worse because it means the protest won't have effect as fast as we want. It will have its effect, but not just as fast, so we have to be ready for that.

I am sorry if this is not the typical protest post you were expecting, but as you might have realized before now, I am not a typical reactive Nigerian,  I am a proactive one. Next time, let us not be blinded by ethnicity or religion.

I remember that in 2008, I told people that it will get to a point when Nigerians will protest and fight back, but no one believed me, that said Nigerians can't fight. I then used this illustration. When a big man holds a small child to the wall and punches his continuously for months, no matter how small or weak that child is, one day he will hit back. It doesn't matter how weak his punch is, he will still try to hit back because there's an extent to what suffering any man can take. I wish I could see the people that told me it would never happen and tell them, 'I told you so'.

For people planning to protest, please, don't let tear gas turn you back to your houses. Government knows that Nigerians run away at every little thing, and they will do what they can to disperse us but now is not the time to run away, let us stand sown. If we don't get it right this time, I doubt that we will ever get it right.

I am also sorry if this post looks scattered. One again, I don't feel too good and am sorting out a lot of things personally. Thanks for reading

A Letter to Undo

Hi People, how did your Christmas go, hope fine? As I might have hinted on some bloggers' comment boxes, I am not actually a fan of Christmas because I feel it is always abused by some people, I still managed to have a relatively good time. I tried not to eat too much cos I hate having to deal with a bloated stomach.

As for the bombing, I have been trying so hard to hold my tongue from uttering words against Mr President for the past three months. Words are powerful and I don't want to prophesy negatively into his life. I didn't vote for him and I don't regret my decision. I don't even want to think to much cos it makes me feel powerless and I hate feeling powerless. This I know, 'One day, bush meat go catch the hunter.'

As for the entry game, Apart from one person, every single person that voted asked for A Letter to Undo. I found this very surprising, as I thought everyone will ask for In My Pocket, which is the one I prefer in the three. Though, no one voted for it. Its all good sha. Please, find below the unedited verion of the entry. Constructive criticisms will be appreciated, thanks.

SORRY! THE LETTER HAD TO BE TAKEN DOWN AFTER 28 DAYS IN ORDER TO SERVE ITS INTENDED PUBLISHING PURPOSE.

THANKS FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING.

P.S: I am in the process of expanding my business, it has nothing to do with hair. I am currently opening it up for private placements. It is a business that is not affected by the power supply or fuel subsidy situation of Nigeria. Send a mail to hattylolla@yahoo.com if you think you might be interested in owning part of it.


Regards.

No be me...

Lately, I have come to realize the importance of education and God's grace in this life. I know a lot of people with whom I grew up in the same area and now the difference between them and I is as clear as crystal, just because they only managed to finish secondary school either due to laziness or lack of funds. Many of them opted to learn a trade while some just stayed at home. I am so thankful to God that my parents gave me an opportunity to go to school. When our parents used to tell us to work hard when we were young, we thought they were being too harsh but now we know better.

Some other people furthered their education but went to colleges of education and polytechnics. It is a sad reality that Nigerian employers still discriminate against graduates from the aforementioned institutions. Some also finished from universities, but managed to finish with pass. So secondly, I thank my parents for making sure I went to university and I thank God for giving me the grace to finish with good results.

Some people went to universities and finished with average results but could not get a good job on time or at all, maybe because they could not pass job aptitude tests or could not defend their results or for whatever reasons that I cannot explain. The standard of education has really fallen in Nigeria. Only the federal universities are seriously trying to maintain good standard of education, but the peanuts the government is paying lecturers is not making it easy for them at all. Anyway, for this, I thank God for giving me a good paying job immediately after graduation.

I have been thinking of writing this post for a while, but what made me actually take the step is that I went to the office canteen sometime back and I looked up, only to see a former neighbour of mine. He was a classmate of my senior brother in primary school and we always came back home from school together. He later went to a boarding secondary school, I think he went to one of those eastern universities or polytechnics, I am not sure. Niways, we greeted each other well and I asked if he was working in the canteen, to which he replied in the affirmative. You see, he was working for the caterer and was about to pack the plates that my colleagues used to eat when I saw him. Here I was, a 'professional' in my own field being served and cleared after by my old school mate. Now, it is clear that it is just because of God’s grace that I am where I am right now but sometimes I fail to thank God.

I just thank God for his grace and mercy and for elevating me, because it is not by my power but by the Spirit of the Lord.

An Irony

(Image from African American Elders Resource Directory)

Every morning, I go to work and a middle-aged man greets me and opens the gate for me. I get to my desk, a middle-aged woman walks past me and starts mopping the floor, another one comes to clean my desk. All the while, what do I do when I see these people? Do I just ignore them? No. I greet them, good morning, good morning. I realize that any of them could have been my Dad, Mum, Uncle or Aunt? It is such an irony of life, the elder serving the younger and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Or I could look at it this way, everyone is just doing his or her job. But can I really say it is as simple as that?

Do those elderly people really look at it like that? Funny thing is that two years from now, my career would have really progressed but those elderly people will still be at the same spot, talk about stagnancy. Where is the progression for them? Yes, they might have had a slight increase in income but nothing significant enough to change their status in life. I really don’t know what these people's stories are but whatever the case, is it really too late for those guys to do something to change their lot in life. From my myopic view, my answer is 'I don’t think so.

There are many great people who started late in life such and ended up successful. Examples are listed below

• Mary Kay, the famous cosmetics maker who started her business in 1963 at the age of 45.

• Harrison ford, the famous veteran actor was not a successful actor until the age of 34.

• Stan Lee, creator of Spider-Man, was 43 when he began drawing his legendary superheroes and his partner Jack Kirby was 44 when he created The Fantastic Four.

• Julia Child didn't even learn to cook until she was almost 40 and didn't launch her popular show until she was 50.

• Harlan Sanders, the Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame, was 66 when he began to promote his style of cooking and create an empire.

I could go and on but the examples are just too many. Even if one doesn’t have an education, it is never too late to start. Nothing says that because one started late, one cannot succeed. Trying is in itself a form of succeeding. Succeed at valuing yourself and go for it!

If, as John Greenleaf Whittier says, the saddest words are "it might have been," the next saddest have to be "I should have tried."