My Ghana trip... in pictures

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As you all know, African Naturalistas was at Accra for four days, mainly to attend the Afrotastic 2014 event, and I proudly represented the whole group, lol.

I was picked up the lovely Naa, also known as Afrodiva, and immediately shipped to my friend, Eduvie’s house. I immediately slept off when the house became empty, and by 1pm, was out to see what the town had to offer. I can only share very few pics, as I took load and loads










After seeing the items, it was obvious that the money I had with me won't buy much, so I walked to the bank, Ghana Commercial Bank, and took more pics.

On the left is the sign 'Taxis not allowed'
On the right, a taxi is parked, lol.




Ghana court of appeal

They have a national lottery authority

The entrance to the Arts Centre





If you see this woman, run away. She will make you spend
all your money. Luckily, I don't really hold money.





Lovely Meldina. She has one eye, and openly jokes about it.

Buka Restaurant


I ate Kelewele and Tilapia
The next day, I was off to the main event, and Eduvie offered to take few pictures before I left. I wore one of the Ghanaian traditional clothes I had bought in the Arts Centre the previous day. apparently, I am not a model, but I tried sha.

Eduvie bought Waakye (pronounce Wache) for me




The event itself was packed. I was really impressed. The organisers were able to fill a whole big hall. It is surely the largest natural hair gathering I have ever been to. I am waiting for the first Nigerian natural hair meet up that would meet that record.

I learnt one thing. Ghanaian naturals do not really twist their hair, and are a fan of updos. I saw updos of all kinds, than I have ever seen at one sitting. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take all the pictures I should have, cos I was busy manning my table, but I tried my best. Enjoy. Once the official pictures are out, I would post them.

The organisers: Afrodiva and Annette
And below are some vendors















Watching the documentary 400 years without a comb.
Every black person in the world should watch this piece

Cross section of attendees

Spoken word

Rama Brew: A popular Ghanaian actress

Spoken word

Music


Beautiful Ghanaian Naturalista


After this, the Ghanaian sisters basically descended on me, and I couldn't take pictures of more music acts, and the natural hair parade. The pictures below show how I was worn out after the event was over.

Janice and I

Annette and I

Afrodiva and I
Unfortunately, I had a terrible experience coming back. Aero Contractors got us stuck in Ghana Airport for almost 24 hours. I have never had such an experience in my life. It was terrible. Their management should be lined up and shot. Their bodies should be lined up again, and shot one more time. Any airline that treats humans like animals, with no sympathy, cos they don’t give a hoot about you, your time, your kids, or anything should not be in business. If you know any of them, whether dead or alive, send them to me. If I get into government, the first thing I would do is to shut down Aero Contractors. If you are a staff of Aero, or a child of a staff of management of Aero, you better not vote me in, cos that business is going down the pit. Rubbish and nonsense.

The “It is well” generation

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It Is Well - The statement Nigerians make when they find themselves helpless, or just looking for ways to escape responsibilities, or find excuse for laziness or inactivity.

First let us establish where this statement that has now become a virus in our Nigerian vocabulary, came from.

It all started when the son of a Shunemite woman, whom Elisha was the prophet behind his existence, died. On seeing that her son had died, she did not say anything, but started riding straight to prophet’s abode. Whenever anyone asked her what was wrong with her, seeing she looked so agitated, she always said All is well.

It was none other than Horatio Gates Spafford who brought this ‘It is well’ phrase mainstream, when he wrote the famous hymn, ‘It is well with my soul’, after losing all his children in a shipwreck. He wrote the hymn when he passed the spot his children died, on the way to meet his wife who had survived the wreck.

The Shunemite woman used this sentence to keep herself from speaking negatively about her situation, despite the fact that everything she saw around her told her it was over. Horatio Gates Spafford used it as a source of encouragement, after suffering what can be called a major loss in this life, believing that all things work together for his good, in the end.

It is thus funny when we use this phrase as an excuse for our laziness, and our preference to do nothing about our situation, a phenomenon which can be particularly attributed to this generation of Nigerians.

When our government collects taxes, yet we sit down and provide all the amenities we already paid for, for ourselves, we lie down on our bed, and say, it is well. We must remember that before the Chibok Girls were kidnapped, Boko Haram had gone to a secondary school, and gunned down about 40 boys. What did we do? We smiled and said it is well. Politicians are robbing us clean, taking our commonwealth, and stocking it up for their children. But as long as we can be friends with those children, and receive our own share, then it is well. Even if we cannot receive our share, it is still well. At least, we can still afford to put food on our table.

People like Femi Otedola and Farouk Lawan can openly steal, slap over 170 million Nigerians in the face, walk freely in the land, knowing nothing will happen, because it is well. Let him cruise his gigantic black and silver boat jare, it is well. At least, I can still drive my 1992 camry.

Frankly speaking? Is it well with me in the midst of the storm? Yes, it is. Is it well with me when I lose everything that matters with me? Yes it is. But…

Let’s be objective a bit, when the Shunemite woman said it is well, what was she doing? She was on her way to meet the prophet, to tell him to find a solution to her dead son, because she never asked him for a son in the first place. Now that he gave her a son, why should he not live a full life? She did not sit by the bedside of the dead son, wailing “All is well.” Her “All is well” was backed up with corresponding actions. She was not lazy, she put her actions where her mouth was.

Should we say it is well when it comes to Nigeria? Well, I will not answer the question for you. But one thing I will say is this. If you ever say it is well, make sure you are actually doing something to make it well, because the people that are making it unwell are doing something. They are planning, strategizing, and putting things together to make sure it would not be well with Nigeria. This is not the time for us to fold our hands, run to church and pray for personal breakthroughs and the latest range rover. If we keep up with that, one day, there might be no bridge for us to drive that range rover on. Of what use is prosperity in the midst of chaos?

The problem with our generation is that we have become complacent, more selfish as the day goes, and social media has not even made it better. It is easier for us to sit down, snap pictures, create hash tags which the people that matter would never see, than actually do something, because that is what is in vogue now. After all celebs all over the world are doing it, why don’t we?

It is now cooler to design DPs, and upload than to go out to do something, the DP being a reaction to something that had already taken place, and not proactivity to prevent something from taking place.
Let me shock you, the people causing the chaos are not doing it via social media. They are not using hash tags or humorous DPs. They are actually in the real world doing things. Why on earth do we think we are going to be able to spark change by being social media parrots?

What the social media does is that it creates awareness, it sheds light on issues that would have been otherwise obscure.

The question is after the awareness-creation, what next? After you have gained knowledge, how have you applied it? How have you solved the problem social media exposed to you?

This social media rants, while excessively loud, is not exactly effective, because it has become akin to preachers preaching to the choir, while the sinners lay waste in whore houses. So it gives us the illusion that we are actually doing something, when all we are doing is spitting e-saliva all over the place, while our country runs down.

This it is well culture we have imbibed in so many aspects of our lives is what has followed us to the way we deal with many things in our country.

Husband batters wife. Parents say “you must not leave him. We went through it. Stay there, it is well.”

Uncle rapes niece. Family says “we can’t report this o. it will bring disgrace to the family. Let’s bury it. It is well.”

Yes, we know it is well. You don’t need to tell me, my bible already told me. The question is, what are we going to do about what it is well about? Are we going to save our daughter from dying in the hands of her lion-in-form-of-a-man husband? Are we going to help our niece recover from her traumatic experience, and teach her to learn to trust again? Are we going to rise up and save our country from going down in runs? What exactly are we going to do?

We have become the ‘it is well’ generation. Passively sailing through life, waiting to be victims of circumstances, soaking up whatever sucking thing life throws at us, like a mattress that can never have enough, and yet never getting to saturation point.

The question is when we will stop saying ‘it is well’, and do something about it? When will something gruelling happen, and I won’t see a response on Facebook saying “it is because we have sinned in Nigeria, and should learn to live holy?”

When will we understand that we actually have the right to question our government? We appointed them, and so we can talk to them. This is not the military regime, so let’s drop the mentality of not being able to ask questions. Don’t be over-religious, and afraid to question the government, saying we cannot rebel against the authority God placed over us. Questioning a democratically-elected government, and making them accountable is not rebellion, it is your responsibility. Anything else is laziness. After all, these are your resources, and you appointed them to oversee its use. Let’s not hide our irresponsibility behind religion.

If we fold our hands, and sit at home, saying “it is well.” One day, you might step out of what used to be the four walls of your house, and ask yourself “is it really well?”

So, I welcome you to the “it is well” generation, the generation where intelligent Nigerians have resorted to replacing common sense and proactivity with inertia, in order to mask their laziness and mere lack of willingness to do something about their situation, as long as it doesn’t affect them directly.

After all said, it is well, my brothers and sisters.

N.B: The funniest thing is I wrote an 'It is well' post two years ago. I said some things then, and pointed out our reactiveness. Now, it is worse. I hope I won't have to write something like this again two years from now. You can check the post out here

A different and unusual kinda girl

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Hello beautiful and handsome readers of this blog. I want to tell you a story.

One day, an ordinary girl was born to a humble family. She was very ordinary, but her mum always believed there was an extra on top of her ordinary, although she could never see anything spectacular about herself. This was also aggravated by the fact that everywhere she found herself, she was always different. She sometimes felt bad that she was far different from everyone else, and could never conform. She was so different that everywhere she went, she was noticed. Not because she was cool, although she tried to be cool, but because she just DIFFERENT.

One day, she had a divine encounter, when God told her that she was the LIGHT OF THE WORLD. Knowing this is a very popular phrase in the bible, she wondered for a second what that meant. He told her not to bother because there is no way one person can light the whole world, without Him being the one using the person, and that He would use her because she was DIFFERENT.

Since that day she felt bad again about her being different. She embraced it totally, and was even awarded the most different and unusual staff of the year, in her firm. In this age, her difference is what sets her apart, what propels her, and what makes people take a second look at her. She is indeed on her way to becoming the light of the world. One day, she will get there!

You can see how different she is, just by watching the one minute video below.



Oya o, people. Did you enjoy my story? I am sure you guys did not get the story behind that video. You were too busy being carried by my words and energy. Watch it again, and let me know if you actually got the story behind the video. If not, watch it again, lol, and this time, forget my face and my words. It's just a little over a minute naa. By the time you watch it five times, you should have gotten it. If not, I give up, watch it again... lol.

Now that you have gotten it, what are you waiting for? Subscribe to my youtube channel here joo. That trailer was not made for free o. Oya please I'm begging. No more harassment.

One more thing... don't forget to book me or recommend me for a performance at any event of yours. To read everything and anything about my spoken word artistry, click here.

How I got a kinfe scar on my right cheek

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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This post is dedicated to Naijawife

If you are an avid reader of this blog, you probably already know that I have a knife scar on my cheek. Sometimes, the scar is very obvious, most times it is not. It all depends on if light is reflecting on that side my face when the picture is being taken, or how sharp your eyes are in reality.

When you look at me on a normal day, this is what you see.





However, if you look at my right cheek well, you will notice the scar. Emphasis on look well. I don’t know if it looks like a tribal mark because nobody has ever asked me if it is a tribal mark. This is what you will see.



So how did this very famous scar end up on my cheek? And no, the bike guy did not stab me on the cheek, lol. Naijawife asked me this on twitter.

Believe it or not, this is a true story, no matter how ridiculous it might sound to you. There are three main characters in this story. Me, Mama Bunmi (My mum’s tailor), and my Dad. So which of these three characters was responsible for this scar?

It all started when I was 5 years old. There was a girl in my class called Damilola Osho. She was very slim, wore neat uniform, shiny GL earrings, very neat weaving, and cute lips. In my opinion, she was a beautiful girl. Not loud beauty like that of Toke Makinwa or my yellow pawpaw sister, but that kind of cool and calm beauty. The thing is she had this short vertical tribal mark. I went further to form my ignorant opinion, that it was this short tribal mark that made her beautiful, and I felt if I had that mark too, I will be beautiful like her.
I then decided to give myself a beautiful tribal mark, like that of Damilola Osho.

I don’t know how come, but that day, there were just two people in the house – Mama Bunmi and I. Mama Bunmi was sewing clothes, as usual, and I was just idle. I saw it as an opportunity to quickly make myself beautiful like Damilola Osho.

So I took a big kitchen knife, and went straight to my mother’s dressing table. My goal was to give myself tribal mark without bleeding or feeling any pain. I therefore started making impressions on my cheek with the knife, but I saw no change. I tried harder. I ended up slicing the knife all over my face. I saw a few impressions here and there, but I knew they would fade soon, cos they were not deep (like Damilola’s own).

After about 30 minutes of trying, without any real success, I felt it wise to meet the only adult in the house. So, off I went to Mama Bunmi to help me fulfill my dreams of being beautiful like Damilola Osho. I showed her the knife, and told her to give me tribal mark in a way that I won’t bleed. She looked at my face, with all the knife impressions I had already made, and told me that I should wait for my dad, and when he gets back at night, I should tell him to do it for me.

Seeing that my dad was the more understanding, and less strict of my parents, I felt it won’t be a big deal asking him, and he would oblige me, just like that.

That night, I watched him eating, as he was gisting with my mum. Immediately he finished, I just took the knife to meet him, and pointed it at him, asking him to give me a tribal mark.

All I heard was...

“Will you get out of here right now?”

I scampered away like a scared rat. It was at that point that I knew that for my usually cool and nice dad to shout at me like that, my request must have been ridiculous.

But you see, the damage had already been done. One of the impressions went deeper that I actually thought. The cut was not deep, just a surface skin one, but the scar, as we now know, is going to be there for a life time.

My dad and I. I was six here.
About few months after the knife incident
You can read about another encounter between my dad and I here.

P.S: I searched for Damilola Osho on facebook after writing this post I saw her instantly. She still looks beautiful, and hasn’t really changed much. The only thing is, I can’t see the tribal mark. It has probably faded away, or covered by her foundation and powder. Anyway, I sent her a friend request, but she never accepted. I believe it is because she doesn't remember me, but I remember her. After all, she is the reason why I have the scar in this first place. See how funny this life is.