Arin's Odyssey

Nigeria@50 - a series

2010-09-27T21:25:00.003Z

Its been a long time! I don't know if anyone still comes around here, but just popping by to do some PR for the Nigeria@ 50 series. Check Loomnie's blog for more details http://loomnie.com/2010/09/25/nigeria50-a-series/.

Helloooo.....anybody there?

2009-11-13T19:35:00.004Z

We like to think that we are unique. But really, we aren't all that special. We are prone to doing the same things as many others. It might be due to the last vestiges of the 'survival' programming in our DNAs, where the chances of survival are higher in a herd.

What I'm trying to say, to cut the long story short is that the fact that I too have been MIA is directly attributable to the Facebook phenomenon. In spite of the fact that I resisted the urge for so long, I have now, for almost a year succumbed, and have been badly infected by that deadly virus which has been going around. And yet, it doesn't give the satisfaction that writing does.........

I still have a lot to say, but demands of family and FB have bitten into my time, so that I almost never manage to sit down to put a fleeting train of thought to paper before it disappears. I would like to do more of that in the coming months.

New trend in Democracy

2009-08-23T19:53:00.004Z

The opposition candidate alleges fraud(see Here) in the recent Afghan elections. This recent spate of fraud allegations after elections, and subsequent innovative solutions as seen in Kenya and Zimbabwe is leading to a dangerous trend, that in my opinion prevents one from knowing when fraud has actually been perpetuated, and when it is just a case of trying to get your share of the cake by shouting loudest.

There have been practically no elections in recent times in Africa, Asia or South America where fraud has not been alleged. While in countries like Ghana, one party let go, there have been 'innovative' solutions like power sharing as already mentioned above, or just massive crackdowns and human rights abuses as recently seen in Iran.

In developing democracies, or young democracies as the press calls them, I think that it would be unrealistic to await completely fraud-free elections. If that is the case, the question then is this -how much fraud is too much fraud? Do creative solutions not undermine the very tennets of democracy? How does one avoid politicians behaving like spoilt kids who alwasy want to have their way, while at the same time making sure that genuine concerns are addressed?

If I come up with plausible answers to the questions above, I'll be sure to post them. Meanwhile, anyone with any ideas is welcome to share.

Recently on my reading table: Outliers by Malcom Gladwell; I do not come to you by chánce by Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani.

Meanwhile, if anyone is reading this, have a lovely week.

What if?

2009-07-06T00:47:00.002+01:00

Is it disloyal to ones partner to wonder if one would have ended up with him or her had facebook and other social networking sites existed 5, 7, or 10 years ago?
The reason for such silly thoughts is the fact that I've been meeting up with old friends, principally from my Naija uni days in the last few days. I suddenly find myself meeting with old crushes and toasters.

I have a particular guy in mind in typing this. We met in 100L, and he really actively courted me. I liked him a lot, but as a good sister in the Lord, I didn't let things progress beyond one stolen kiss in the science faculty of UI. After I left Nigeria, I thought about him often. Since those were pre-GSM and pre-Émail days in Nigeria, there was no way of getting in touch. I had googled him a couple of times in the last few years, out of a curiousity to know what was up with him.

Facebook has reunited us. It turned out that he often thought of me too - at least that is what he says. We are both married with kids now, and its nice to be back in touch.

I am nursing a scientific curiousity. I still can't help but wonder, what if?

Back to the future

2009-03-24T04:36:00.004Z

I was recently doing a spring cleaning on my email accounts when I decided to go down memory lane. Since unlimited storage is a relatively recent phenomenon on free web mail accounts, I have very few emails dating back to 1998, which is when I first opened my main mail account. Since one only had a few MBs at that time, deletion of emails was very routine, and I did not have the oversight to save copies of those mails.

One thing struck me very strongly: the people who were fixtures in my life at that time, with whom I constantly exchanged emails on a daily basis (even when we were still going to meet for dinner later), whose lives were so intricately woven with mine, so much so that I could not imagine not being constantly in touch with them , these people have been replaced by others over the space of time. Don't get me wrong, these people are still my friends. We still keep in touch - only instead of weekly or several times a month, its now once or twice a year.

Isn't that what maturity is though? Those people who helped nurse a broken heart, with whom we once plotted business ideas that never came to fruition, trips and surprises that still bring a warm feeling whenever I think about them are still in my life. I have made room for others though over the years.

The most surprising of all, with hindsight is the person closest to me now. 9 years ago, my husband and I were not that close, we exchanged forwarded emails every once in a while. While most of our early correspondence has been lost to the forced email account clean ups of years gone by, seeing those emails which I have saved, I would never have predicted that we'd get married and start a family together.........

Now you see why I never destroy old letters or cards or emails(except I am forced to) - the future is a conundrum that can only be unraveled(or maybe not!) by a study of the past.

If it is God’s will……

2009-02-04T05:10:00.003Z

I am a Christian, and believe in God’s will. I have seen seemingly impossible situations turned around, because I believe it was God’s will, and I truly believe that with God nothing shall be impossible. In many cases where one has already done ones best God’s will is usually what makes the difference.

But, now the big but is that I totally reject as false the belief in ‘if it is God’s will, nothing can prevent it from happening’, when one has not done one’s best. If you have not yet recognised it as such, this post is a RANT!!!!

I urgently need for my sister to be here in two weeks time. The first time we discussed this issue was at the beginning December, and she told me that particular week would be best because she would be on a training trip to the UK and could afterwards fly over for a week or so. Now, the visa procedure for a private family visit here entails getting an official invitation letter from the town hall (against a small fee), the original copy of which the potential visitor would need to present at the embassy during their appointment. Together with this document, they’d need a copy of the host’s birth certificate, if related, their own original birth certificate, health insurance as well as the other minor required documents.

Now I know from experience that getting an appointment is the bottleneck in the whole visa application process, for the country I live in, so I told her to already start working on getting an appointment as early as possible. I was unable to get the iv done as early as I’d have liked it, and I had to send DH*. He got it done and sent it via snailmail on Dec 23. We got into an argument over that as I was of the opinion that he should have sent it via DHL. Lo and behold, the package arrived at home during the first few days of January (Kudos to Nipost). I again repeated the ‘please work on getting the appointment’ plea. She assured me she – would. I called weekly to find out her progress.

So, would someone please explain to me why she only started trying to get an appointment last week only to realise that her passport would be expiring in April, so she had to apply for a new passport, which she only got last Friday. Since one’s passport is not required to get an appointment, I wonder why she needed to abandon the quest for an appointment, which by the way was left way too LATE!!!! Anyways, here we are, four days before she flies off to London and she is still trying to get an appointment. Of course, things have since turned to ‘don’t worry, my God has assured me that things will work out’; ‘if it is God’s will, I will get the visa and be there’; ‘what’s even the big deal about the visa sef, kini mo fe wa mu ni ilu won**, afterall I just want to come see my sister who lives there.

Father, forgive me if my faith is not strong enough to see how you can act through this shoddy planning to enable M be here in February as planned/desired.

I have seen this scenario re-enacted time and time again, this, I-am-not-suffering-in-Nigeria- they-should-even-be-happy-that-I-am-thinking-of-visiting-their-country-so they-should-bend-all-their-rules-and-anyway why-do-they-have-so-many-rules attitude. I have seen it more times than I can count. An uncle of mine came into the UK sometime last year telling me that he was heading to the Netherlands for a conference in two days time – meanwhile he hadn’t bothered to get the visa in Nigeria, because the process was so long – he planned on going to the Dutch embassy in London, getting the visa processed, ‘express visa’ he said, and then heading directly to Waterloo to catch the Eurostar, for which he already had a ticket. Of course it didn’t work out.
And instead of realising it was his fault the only thing he could say was ‘ they should go to hell, there isn’t anything special about their country and its their loss; What stupid rules’. Stupid rule or not, it is still their rule, and its is clearly written on their website and in all the information brochures that you can only get a visa in your country of residence and I mean, he had known about the conference for months!!! And this is a man who expects blind obedience to his wishes from members of his own family o.

That’s why I try to refrain from joining the continuous bashing of our leaders. Fine, they don’t follow the rule of law, but neither do most Nigerians, including, as annoying as I find it, even members of my immediate family. Our ‘bigman’ mentality makes us believe that we at least should be above the law, which was made for the common man. May God help Nigeria!

Hey, anyone care to substitute for my sister?

* - Dear Husband
** -what’s the big deal about the visa, there isn't anything I need in their country

My close encounter with 'That One'

2008-12-16T22:05:00.002Z

I met BO today. I had been sitting listening in an audience to one of Chicago’s finest economists argue with Joe the plumber about the American economy and its fundamentals. The debate was taking place in one of the rooms of the City Hall. Sonya and I sat together somewhere near the back of the room, ready to make our escape as soon as the debate ended, before the doors became jam packed. I turned and realised that sitting to my right was BO, the Illinois senator who had been running for POTUS and who had actually won, I was shocked that anyone could concentrate on J. the plumber's intellectually shallow arguments that Prof Segae was patiently trying to dispute when the president-elect was sitting in the same room. Or maybe they just hadn’t noticed yet. Behind our row sat a couple of men in loud Hawaii Shirts- they were not your typical layabouts, but they did not strike me as people attending this event for the intellectual stimulus. Immediately I guessed, they were Barack’s security detail - so obviously did they stick out.

When the debate started to wind down, Barack left the hall and I immediately followed. There was no way on earth I was going to let him go and not have shaken his hands and told him what a profound influence he was having on my life. He was really friendly and when I told him that Sonya and I were on a working visit here (she had joined me in the entrance hall), he asked if I knew Chicago. I said no, this is my first visit here. This hall is the only place I know here. Actually, I was planning to do a bit of sightseeing after the opening address. I ignored Sonya's look of astonishment - we were both so jetlagged that we had planned to head off to bed after the opening address. She waved goodbye and headed to the close-by four seasons hotel where we were lodged.

Could you recommend any particular spots for sightseeing? I asked Barack. He looked at me and said, well the History Museum - really teaches a lot Chicago’s history. You know what, I'm headed downtown now, why don't you come along and I'll show you around. I was so awe-struck as I gladly (whaddya expect!!!) accepted the offer. We started to walk off getting into conversation about mundane things. At the next traffic light, he hurriedly turned right into the huge mass of people - I had to almost run to keep up. Why did I get the feeling he was trying to shake off his bodyguards? Well probably because that’s exactly what he was trying to do. After we had turned a few corners, the crowd thinned out, and there was no Barack bodyguard around - at least none recognisable as such to me. He had relaxed visibly and took deliberate slow steps - well as slow as you can go when you have such long legs. I still had to go at double my normal pace to keep up.

We entered the gates into the grounds of the museum, you could see the instant recognition, but people gave him his space still. Amazing. As we went from room to room, he pointed out various exhibits to me and filled me up a bit on the history of the city. After about an hour, we stopped at the cafe, to get a small snack. I was amused to see that they had apple strudel on offer; I decided to see what a Chicago strudel tasted like. B just had a soymilk coffee. It felt so unbelievable to me to be sitting here with Barack Obama, having a coffee and talking about God and the world - surely, only in America.

When we left the small snack bar, after him giving the waitress, who had looked at us with intense curiosity, an autograph in addition to a fat tip, we got on the escalator, taking us to the lower levels of the building. Gentleman that he is, he let me get on first. I was surprised that he got on directly behind me though. I leaned back into him, enjoying the feeling - trying not to think what the heck was going on. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the eye - how many other women get a chance to lean on Barack Obama? As I savoured the safe feeling of a strong man’s chest, I was brought jarringly back to earth by a voice, standing directly beside me, asking BO about how he felt being constantly described as African-American, when in fact he was biracial.

I turned slightly, and saw her then - a pretty, obviously biracial woman with hazel eyes, and light brown spring curls held back by an Alice-band. At least she’d be pretty if she lost that maniacal racial activist fervour in her eyes. She explained she was from South Africa in this lovely lilting voice and that even during apartheid, there was a separate racial category, just for people like her. I stood there thinking, how fucked up some people are. We had gotten to the bottom of the elevator, and I stood and listened as Barack explained to her why we shouldn’t worry about the boxes people try to put us in since they were never accurate and could never really define a person, his experiences and world view with any sort of accuracy.

We said byes and were about heading into the next exhibition room, when a PA announcement about an immediate evacuation due to a bomb scare came through. Oh shit, this was going to make the news. I could already see the breaking news headlines: ‘BO out with a strange woman at the Chicago History museum during a bomb scare’. I mentally prepared myself for the barrage.

Sure enough, as we got into the entrance hall of the building, there were on the left TV cameras, on the right, yep, the evaded bodyguards, but now they had their suits on. Sitting in the middle, as though presiding over the occasion was Michelle Obama as nicely coiffured as ever, flanked by Sasha and Malia on both sides. BO refused to answer any questions and I was about to follow suit. Until that is, the dreaded question came flying through the mike, straight at me. What is your name and are you mister Obama’s lover. I stopped and ignoring the first part of the question said – don’t be ridiculous, everyone knows how deeply in love Barack and his wife are and how happy they are together. I then turned to Michelle and asked her if I was wrong - she gave me a hi5 and said of course you are right sweetie. Don’t mind the press guys always looking for a piece of a juicy story.

The press guys were disappointed especially when they were whisked many meters from the candidate and his family by the security operatives. Since the bomb scare was called off and people immediately allowed back in, I realised it probably had been a ploy to get us out of the museum. Meanwhile, little Sasha had walked up to Barack while this was going on and demanded to see her little sibling again. Barack bent towards her and showed her his flag pin. I thought that was quite odd.

I walked up to Michelle and told her how much of an admirer of hers I was. She smiled and we engaged in small talk. Then Barack said it was time to go he said a quick goodbye, nice meeting you to me. He then headed outside, presumably for the waiting armoured black SUV that I had seen through the windows as we entered the entrance hall. I turned to Michelle to say goodbye and was washed in her icy gaze. She turned to one of their staff - "find out how much and compensate her". She then walked off to join her family without saying a word to me! That hi5 had just been for show - she didn't believe there was nothing between Barack and I!!!!
Then I woke up.

The real witches of Nigeria

2008-12-04T17:05:00.006Z

See here for more. Thanks to Jon at The ongoing adventures of ASBO Jesus for the image.

A COMMON destiny!

2008-11-09T14:37:00.005Z

Today the 70th anniversary of the Kristalnacht antisemitic riots was marked in Germany. Kristallnacht, or the Night of Broken Glass, is often regarded as the starting point of the Holocaust. For Anglican congregations, today was Rememberance Sunday - which is a day of rememberance for all those who have given their lives in the pursuit of peace and freedom. One part of the pastor's sermon in Church today got me thinking about how, 60 years, the amount of time that has elapsed since the end of WWII wasn't such a long period of time if things are put into perspective. Such conflicts in places like Northern Ireland, the Balkans and even the Hutsi-Tutsi war have gone/went on for so much longer. Seeing how far Western Europe has gone in putting behind the hatred and enimty of the war and in uniting and forging a common destiny is a great lesson, especially for Africa. Below are a few outstanding examples of how far people on different sides of World war II have come in terms of moving on in the last 60 years.

The Dresden Frauenkirche(The Church of our lady), destroyed during the (deliberately? some might controversially argue) bombing of Dresden (which was one of the most beautiful Baroque cities in Europe) by the US and British troops just a few weeks before the end of the war, as well as the Coventry cathedral, destroyed by German bombers during the same war were both kept for years as war memorials. The Dresden Frauenkirche was reconstructed and rededicated in 2005, having been rebuilt over a period of 13 years with donations from severaly sources, including support from the city of Coventry. The new cross on top of the dome of the cathedral was constructed by Alan Smith, a British goldsmith from London whose father, Frank, was a member of one of the aircrews who took part in the bombing of Dresden.

Volgograd was almost completely destroyed during WWII. The Battle of Volgograd/Stalingrad was the bloodiest battle in human history, with combined casualties estimated to be above 1.5 million. I visited war gravesite and memorial in Volgograd(Stalingrad), Russia sometime in early 2001. Some groups in Germany were financing the excavation of the mass graves, and identification of soldiers bodies, both Russian and German. The names of the victims identified so far are engraved into a wall, with the graves of Russian soldiers on one side of the road, and those of German soldiers on the other side.

It always amazes me anytime I travel in Alsace, the region in France of which Strasbourg, where the council of Europe has its seat, is the capital city. Alsace is a region that lies between Germanz and France and which has several times in its history been transferred back and forth between the two countries. In fact, during the last war, members of the same family were drafted to fight on different sides. Yet, today, the people of Alsace, France and Germany have moved on. Alsacians can now speak their language freely and celebrate their culture openly. One can move freely between both countries, live in France and work in Germany and vice-versa. You can do your shopping across the border in the same currency, without any stress or fear (Of course once you cross the border, even though there are rarely any checks, you instinctively sense you are in a different country due to the difference in architecture and landscape).

These are a few examples of how far these peoples have come in the 6o years since the war ended. How I wished many African countries would take a cue. A peculiarity of African wars is that most of the conflicts in Africa are tribal/ethnic conflicts that have spanned centuries - before the Europeans arrived and complicated the problems by forcing them into one country, Hutsis and Tutsis were killing each other, etc. Wars within a country only destroy the common future for both the agressor and the aggrieved. The current conflict in Congo has very few winners, perhaps 0,001% of the population.

Even in Nigeria where thére is currently no war going on, tribalism has continued to pull us down. This disease that makes the fact of a person being 'my brother' the single most important fact in political appointments or in the prosecution of offences is pulling us back as a country. There is a subconcious tribal war going on in that country. Its time to realise that as long as Nigeria remains one country, we share a common destiny. To paraphrase that biblical admonishment to captive Jews in a foreign land 'pray for the peace of the land you are in, for in its peace, you will find your peace'. Without peace for the Igbo, the Yoruba cannot have peace in the same country. As long as some people in the North continue in ignorance to refuse vaccination for their children against polio, all of our children will continue to be at risk of polio. As long as progress and justice bypasses the Niger Delta, true economic progress cannot come to the whole country. Our destinies and futures are shared. We need to let that fact permeate our minds and hearts.

Yes we can!!!

2008-11-05T16:13:00.010Z

Overwhelmed and filled with gratitude to be alive in these extraordinary times, I am jogged out of my unplanned but extended hiatus from Blogville by the awesomeness of the history-making election of Barack Hussein Obama as the next president of the United States of America.

While I am not American, I believe one does not need to be American to realise that we are at a "defining moment in history" to quote the US President-Elect. Happy disbelief and enormous joy apart, my main emotions today have been melancholy and deep reflection.

What Barack Obama has achieved is undeniable proof that with determination, hard work and God on your side, nothing, absolutely nothing is impossible for he who believes. Yes we can.
"Yes we can" has become more than a campaign slogan, it has become a mantra that will be chanted by generations to come, the symbol of a new era.

As a Nigerian, I feel the twin emotions of despair at the bleakness of the situation of my beloved nation, and hope that "Yes we can", yes we can turn that nation around. Yes we can, destroy the ills of corruption, injustice and lack of integrity that plague our public space. Yes we can, shatter the chains of tribalism that have kept our nation enslaved. Yes we can create a better tomorrow for future generations. The greatest thing that we can gain from this historic occurence as a nation is an awakening to the possibilities that abound to us as a people if we pick up the mantle of change and determine not only to say, but to act in the knowledge that yes we can begin a new day.

As a mother to be, I am reassured that with the God's help, I can confidently leave behind, on this historic day, any insecurities and fears about future difficulties that my unborn child might face as a person of colour growing up in a predominantly Caucasian society, my fears about any limitations or barriers that will be placed in the way just by due to skin colour. "For nothing is impossible to him that believeth". If God decrees a thing, no one can stop it. Yes we can.

For me personally, this is a watershed moment - a moment that internally frees me to go for what I believe. Not to worry about whether my decision to take a leap into the unknown, to maybe leave a great job to follow the path that is dear to my heart, yet as fully clear as it is. To follow my heart down a path that I believe to be the right one for me, as I silently chant “yes we can”.

Melancholy

2008-05-14T18:47:00.001Z

I originally drafted this post on 9/6/2006 but never posted it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've just watched a one hour video with excerpts of interviews from Maaman Vatsa's widow and sons. Its just so sad. One of the things that make my blood boil is our denial as a people. My father and I had a heated argument about contemporary Nigerian culture a few weeks ago. According to him, one has to be careful, because western values are eroding our society, and lie at the root of our problems as a nation. I just could not hear that calmly. Western people have public structures in place, universal education, enough food, regular electricity and clean water for all their people. I don't care what they are doing wrong, I'd like to have a part in it!

We in Nigeria on the other hand are God-fearing - the number of Public places of worship is unbelievable- yet we cannot provide education, portable water, constant electricity,etc, etc, yet we have the audacity to sit on a moral high horse about other people's values. We have such a huge LOG in our eyes, so big that we are 3/4 blind, yet we claim to see the gnat in other people's eyes.

We claim to be godly, but obviously we do not adhere to the saying "cleanliness is next to godliness", as the amount of rubbish on our roads can attest to. We are such egoists that caring for number one is uppermost in our minds. We get slighted at the slightest hint of disrespect. "Don't you know I'm so and so". People are content to live in their mansions surrounded by stark suffering. We wallow in our ability to throw crumbs under the table to our fellow Nigerians. We claim that we are decent and regularly express outrage at the morals of westerners, yet anyone who has ever been to female halls of residence at a Nigerian University knows that our exclamations are a case of pot calling the kettle black. At least, the Europeans mostly do it for love, or desire. What do you say about a nation of people who worship the god of their bellies. What about using every means possible to extort money from fellow human beings. We are not the poorest nation on earth so we cannot claim that we are the way we are because we are poor. And a lot of our people are well educated, but the education seems only to make them worse.

Many times I despair for our nation. Every nation has its ups and downs, but how do you retrive a people whose morals and ideals have been corroded away by selfishness and greed? Is there still a chance to pull us back from the edge of the precipice or have we already fallen over?

Nobody can convince me this was how our cultures were. Just a little glimpse back into my relationship with people who have since passed impresses upon my mind that it was not always this way.
We have become a people with no ability to "cut our coat according to our cloth" not as individuals, not as a nation. We are a nation of suffering people, yet at the slightest opportunity, we carry out orgies of spending, regardless of where we get the money from.

Manners?

2008-05-13T19:15:00.002Z

- You come in, they continue staring at the tv screen or sometimes even at you, without saying a word. "D, how are you", you ask? He smiles back, answers "fine" if you are lucky, and promptly ignores you, absorbed in whatever it was he was doing before you came in.

- Their uncle comes in, and says hi to the adults but "overlooks" N and Y. He ignores them because he is sick of having to always greet them first, old enough to be their father as he is.

D is a 10 year old son of Nigerian parents, born and bred in the U.k.

N and Y are Austrian, in their early teens.

One thing I cannot stand is bad manners.

A short story

2008-04-21T21:32:00.000Z

I crept up the stairs, sure that the boys were too absorbed with playing football with the neigbourhood kids to notice that I was absent. They, just like I was about to, were taking full advantage of having been left unsupervised by our usually over vigilant parents. We were not allowed to mix too freely with the neighbours or play with the kids on the street; running wild, my mother called it.

Right now, I was intent on something more important than playing football. I crept up to the door, and saw that they had left the key in the lock. Wow, my great chance to explore the content of this mysterious room was finally here. I entered, shutting the door behind me in an attempt to fool anyone coming up the stairs into thinking that the room was empty. I was not worried about my parents returning home too early, the room overlooked the street below and I would be able to hear the pii pii of the 504 horn calling us to open the gates and let them in.
There were so many interesting files and folders to go through, and I got more absorbed by the minute. When I glanced up at the clock and saw that I had been at it for about 15 minutes, I decided to go through only one more file before leaving. I reached for the bottom file, making sure to remember its exact position so as to be able to replace just exactly as it was.
I opened the file and started to peruse its content. It contained a tax declaration for my parents for the year of our lord 1982. When I got to the part where the children of the claimants were to be listed, I froze and felt cold all over from what I read. “Taiwo Ajala May 12 1971; Kehinde Ajala May 12 1971. Tinuke Ajala September 1974………”

I frantically placed the sheet aside in order to be able to look through the other contents of the folder. I forgot about putting the sheets aside in the right order. I found the birth certificates of all the kids listed in the folder and some other documents that I was too agitated to read. I replaced the papers back in the folder and put the folder back on top of the file. “No, it should be at the bottom”, I thought to myself as I turned away from the door to replace it at the bottom of the pile and to arrange the pile neatly.
I headed for our room, climbed up to my oasis, the top bunk of the double-decker bed that I shared with Tope. I lay down with my thoughts, too upset to think rationally. My poor, poor parents. What a harrowing experience they had been through. I started to think how I could make it up to them; how I could show them that I cared. No wonder they were so careful with us and very concerned that we not run wild. I decided that I would talk to my father when my parents returned home. I would hug my mother. I was puzzled as to why I had no recollection, but decided that I was probably too young to remember.

My parents returned home three hours later. Immediately my mother changed and went downstairs to the kitchen, I knocked on the door of my parent’s room. When I heard the “come in” in my father’s deep voice, my heart leapt into my mouth, I still didn’t know what I was going to say.

“Daddy, I would like to come clean with you”, I started. “I went into your study while you were away and I looked through some folders. I’m sorry about Taiye and Kehinde. What happened to them? Did they die? It must be really be painful for you and mummy”.

“Don’t worry, nobody died”, my father reassured me. “The forms you saw were only a template, don’t worry”.

"But....", I started to say.

“And by the way, what were you doing snooping in my study, that’s very deceitful and I am very ashamed of you”.

“I’m sorry sir”, I said, hanging my head.

“Go to your room right now”, he said, displaying none of the fierce annoyance that I had come to expect from my father when he was dealing with any of our misdeed. He even had a sort of amused look on his face.

It took me several years to realize that Taiwo and Kehinde Ajala, were my parents way of defrauding the old Western State and claiming extra benefits.

You can't cheat an honest man

2008-04-19T14:58:00.003Z

I have gotten several e-mails in the last few weeks informing me of the fact that I had won in a lottery where the winners were selected randomly. The mails then went on to detail a list of personal information which needed to be sent before I couldreceived payment of said win. These emails could have fooled only very naïve, child-like people, or very greedy people, blinded to the very obvious by a desire to get something for nothing, or much for peanuts. How can you have won in a lottery that you didn't enter for? And the official from the lottery board has only a yahoo or hotmail email address. Hellooo???

That is why I am very irritated at the following report on the BBC website about the arrest of lottery scam suspects.

My irritation stems from the ever-present debate when the issue of scams comes up. Is it only the scammer that should be punished? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying its right to cheat anyone out of his or her money, and I believe that scammers must be punished, but like Mickey says in Hustle “you can’t cheat an honest man”.

I am never taken in by freebies, it is a natural law that you never get something for nothing and anyone who wants to because of their greed, deserves whatever follows. I am sorry for the naive people who were taken in, but it seems they must have a bit of intrinsic greed.

Maybe I'm just being to hard on the poor stupid people.....

Thought provoking

2008-04-12T11:49:00.004Z

The images above are from a blog titled The Ongoing Adventures of ASBO Jesus which I came accross a couple of months ago. While I don't always agree with his positions, I am glad for the thoughts they provoke.

Asa in Concert

2008-04-05T07:34:00.009Z

Someone I know posted a video of "Fire on the Mountain", the widely aclaimed single from Asa on her page a few months ago. I listened to it, it was quite good I thought and forgot all about it. As the months went by, she was mentioned by several people in various blog posts, on facebook and I finally got curious.

I watched the video of her interview on New dawn with Funmi, and she sounded so down to earth that I was intrigued. On her official homepage, you can listen to her various tracks. As I perused the page, I found that she would be playing inseveral locations Germany, and I found she would be playing in a city close to where I live!!!! Immediately I decided that I would be at the concert. Now, you have to know me for you to realise that it was not a very "selbstverstandlich" (logical) conclusion. In the whole of my 30year(in four weeks), I have only been to I think five concerts. Most were accidental attendances, as in my hubby wanted to go and I tagged along. The only other concert I had consciously decided to attend before now was a Shaggy concert in Moscow, and I didn't even pay for the ticket - I knew one of the organisers and he gave me a free ticket.

So, anyway, I decided to go to the concert (apart from the fact that I like her music and also do anything to support other hardworking Nigerians, I also needed a bit of a distraction). I immediately set my PR forces in motion -i.e. I sent an email to all my friends inviting them along. It turned out that one of those friends had bought an Asa CD accidentally in Nigeria over the christmas holidays, and she was immediately for it. She said she was going to invite some other friends of hers. I also decided to invite some of my colleagues, so it was a very jolly group of us that went along.

Meanwhile, I was able to buy the CD in Media Markt, an electronics store here, where I had also previously bought Ayo. For the first time, I listened to all the tracks including "So beautiful" which has become my favourite - when I sing "e bami kira fun mama mi, orisa bi iya ko si laye".....I sing it for my mother.

The concert was great - she knows how to work the stage! Everyone I spoke to enjoyed the concert and we all think she is going places. She is also very inspirational, I mean, her voice is not typical, and it must have taken a lot of determination to get where she is. I should take a cue from her wrt my book.....

We got a chance to speak briefly to her afterwards and also to take pictures with her. I even have an autographed CD to show for it!!!! In all, it was a great experience.

Theodora

2008-03-26T18:07:00.006Z

I have not had so much to say nor felt so incapable of expressing myself in any form as I have felt in the last few months...... Ever since we lost the gift we hadn't planned on, a lot has changed for me. I feel things just as deeply, but can't really be bothered to express myself. Its’ not really that I'm grieving - after all I never really got to know him that well. Even though I was only in the very early stages, at a point where there were more imaginary changes than real ones occurring in my body, I had begun to imagine that he could hear me. I always wanted a daughter, but somehow I knew this baby was a boy. I also knew that I would give my life for that little piece of life growing in me. Sadly I didn't get the opportunity. I only know that God knows best. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be His name. I wanted to call him "God's gift" *. I know that any child that He chooses to give me will be His gift.

I learnt one thing - every single child born healthy is a gift from God above. One can't always choose the date like one can with respect to most other things on God's earth. In this one area, one must learn to say YES to God's will. I was not sure I wanted to be a mother before. I wasn't sure when I'd be ready, but the fleeting couple of months that my gift spent with me made me certain that I'll be ready as soon as He allows.

* Theodora - God's gift

Life is....

2008-02-11T20:09:00.000Z

........what happens to you while you are busy making plans. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. When I've had a chance to wrap my mind around it, I'll probably put up a post about it.

419 Mail

2008-02-05T14:40:00.000Z

I just got this in my inbox. I can't believe some people are actually taken in by such obvious scams.

FROM DESK OF ENGR. WILLIAMS SMITH EVANSPETROLEUM TRUST FUND OFFICE.CONTRACT AWARD DEPARTMENT.NIGERIA NATIONAL PETROLEUM COPORATIONLAGOS-NIGERIA.
CONTACT: christcharlesglory@yahoo.com
ATTN:Sir/madam,I am the chairman of the contract award committee,federal ministry of petroleum resources, Nigeria I am in search of an agent to assist us in the transfer FIFTY MILLION, FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS,And subsequent investment in properties in your country.You will be required to: (1) Assist in the transfer of the said sum(2) Advise on lucrative areas of investment(3) Assist us in purchase of properties. If you decide to render your service to us in this regard,35% of the total sum will be offerred to you.PLEASE SEND REPLY TO INDICATE YOUR WILLINGNESS IN ASSISTING US SO THAT I WILL DIRECT YOU ON WHAT NEXT To DO. INCLUDE YOUR DIRECT TELEPHONE ANDFAX NUMBERS IF YOU ARE RESPONDING.THANKS FOR YOUR ANTICIPATED ASSISTANCE.

YOURS SINCERELY,Chairman of the contract award committee(CCAC)
ANTICIPATED ASSISTANCEDR CHARLES CHRIST. Gwilliamssmith22@yahoo.com

Rare, medium or well done

2008-01-17T18:31:00.001Z

I was in the supermarket this evening after work to get some supplies and I decided to get some meat. Normally I just get lamb, and its usually available packaged and/or deep frozen. In the particular supermarket that I went to, they had no frozen meat section, and the fresh lamb looked a bit suspect to me, so I decided to get some beef for a change. The butcher asked what I wanted to use the meat for in order to advice me on what to get. Just as I was about to say beef stew, I caught myself. No need to get myself entangled in explaining what that is. I said "steak". I got my meat and headed home.

Chuckling to myself, I thought about steaks. My husband likes his steak rare, I like mine of course, like a typical Nigerian, well done. We have worked out a compromise, I take out his steak first and cook mine until I'm sure its well done. My husband likes to make a joke about this. Often when we are in a restaurant, and I order a well done steak, he says jokingly to the waiter "first make sure its dead, then fry/grill it till its dead again and then hit it just to make sure". Na im sabi. Don't mind him, when I cook stew, if I'm lucky, the pot lasts the day with him picking out the pieces of meat to snack on everytime he walks around the kitchen. Meanwhile when he buys me lamb, he always complains good naturedly that making stew with it is waste of perfectly good meat.

Talking of steaks, for some reason, I have never managed to get well done steaks in the Netherlands. On the occasions when I was lucky, I got a medium steak. Mostly, it was just rare. In fact the last time, when I finally decided to swear off eating meat in Holland, the meat was so rare I kept expecting a "Moo" anytime. And even my oyinbo colleague admited that it was way too raw, even for her who liked rare meat. My aversion to raw meat is I guess funny, because I love Sushi so so much.

By the way(and completely off topic, but anyway, thats me), if anyone reading this knows where one can get nice suya in London please tell me. I had suya from somewhere in Peckham about 4 years ago and I must confess that I was quite disappointed.

Be safe.

GOP

2008-01-14T21:16:00.000Z

In many news reports, the Republican Party is referred to as the "GOP". At some point, I guess it was during the last elections, I decided that they were probably referring to themselves as God's own people, seeing that many evangelicals are affiliated to the party, and Dubya claims to do nothing without being led of God. I don't know what made me google GOP tonight, but now I know that it stands for Grand Old(or 'Ole) Party. Makes much more sense of course. Thank God for Google - the bane of ignorance!

Everyday Nigerian Heroes 1: Ilasamaja Youth Forum

2008-01-13T19:19:00.000Z

The Ilasamaja Youth Forum was started a few months ago, here in the words of the president of the organization, Abu Olawale Raymond:

“What happened was that we went to the internet,” Raymond said, in a chat with Saturday Sun, “and we saw stories about young people in different parts of the world, coming together to do things for their communities, and working with other organizations like the UN. We decided to come together and think of programmes that we could do that would benefit our community, as others have done. Since then, we have held seminars on HIV/AIDS, liberating the youths from poverty and we celebrated International World Youth Day on August 12, this year. On environmental sanitation days, we visit areas in our community that we feel need cleaning and do what we can to clean up these areas.”

For once a good story about Nigerian youth and the internet. The collapse of the pedestrian bridge and their voluntary work in helping pedestrians cross the road to avoid casualties is what makes them heroes:

The incident that forced them to become heroes was the collapse, a couple of months ago, of part of the pedestrian bridge that goes across the Apapa-Oshodi
Expressway at Ilasamaja bus-stop.

....... casualties followed as people were forced to dash across the highway, trying to dodge cars coming at breakneck speed, driven by motorists who didn’t know the situation of the collapsed bridge and just thought the pedestrians were breaking the law. Many died, especially among the elderly and young children, who didn’t stand a chance against on-coming vehicles

It was this state of affairs that led the Ilasamaja Youth Forum, led by its president, Abu Olawale Raymond, to decide that too many members of their community had been lost and something had to be done before more would perish. So they printed the name of their organization on lemon reflective jackets, picked up a few sticks and headed for the highway directly under the collapsed bridge, where they have remained everyday for weeks, trying to slow down traffic so pedestrians can cross safely.

Again a sad reflection on our society that the police and LASTMA only started to "assist" only after IYF got involved.

Their work eventually brought the situation to the attention of the police, who sent a number of their officers to assist. Sometimes, LASTMA officials also pitch in. Some other youth organizations, including the Action Congress, youth wing of Ward F2, also joined forces with them, for what is essentially a full day’s work, everyday.

Its not easy, but its heartening that in a country where millions have to struggle to make ends meet, young people are going out of their way to do things like this.

Raymond says they have to juggle the time they have to be able to work there, since most of their members are students and workers. He himself is a student at Lagos State University who also works.
“We resume everyday at 7 am, which is a very busy period because people are going to work and students are going to school, and then we work till 9 am. Then another group, that is the AC Youth Forum, continue from then on. We ask some of our members who have to go to work in the morning to write letters to their companies to let them come to work a bit late so they can take part in the work. The students who don’t have lectures in the early morning also take part at that time. Those who can’t take part during the week help out at weekends. The others, who can stay the whole day, do so. We have about 19 members who do this work everyday.”

Praise is also due to the Action Congress youth forum and all other youth groups carrying out such voluntary acts of community service under dangerous conditions all around Nigeria. I implore anyone who can do anything to assist or encourage such groups acts to please do what they can. The financial assistance offered by Oceanic bank for the purchase of caution signs is a fine example of the type of support which can be offered.

We decided that we needed to erect some caution signs to slow motorists down to make our work easier. So we approached Oceanic Bank, that has a branch nearby and asked them to help us pay for these signs to be erected. They gladly agreed to do that and complied as promised.”

One can lament till tomorrow about the government not doing its job, and they would be perfectly justified. However, doing one's on bit, while clamouring for greater accountability and effectiveness of the government through peaceful but persistent means is, in my opinion, the only way forward for Nigeria. These youth deserve praise for doing their bit.

Read the full story here: http://www.sunnewsonline.com/webpages/features/living/2008/jan/12/living-12-01-2008-001.htm

*This is the first of what I hope will become a regular series of posts, about ordinary Nigerians, both young and old, giving back to their community and to the country that has given them so little. *

Lago Maggiore

2008-01-08T11:57:00.000Z

Here is a picture of the back view of Lago Maggiore taken from the balcony of our hotel room. This picture was taken during our summer trip. I love this picture so much, because it gives me such a sense of peace. A really beautiful landscape contains the most unimaginable colours - such colours as would make you think a painter over imaginative if you had seen it in a painting. Hundreds of shades of green and blue and grey, its amazing. I guess that is why I love impressionism, especially anything by Claude Monet.
Info: I am generally a sucker for landscape photos.
I liked the photo so much I even made it into a card. Here is a picture of the card:

Ms Platnum - Give me the food

2008-01-02T18:13:00.000Z

Wow, three posts within 24- thats a new record for me. I just had to post this video though 'cause it is so hilarious. Enjoy.

Rural Nigeria lights up with solar power + PH Burning???

2008-01-01T22:21:00.000Z

Article by Micheal Simire on SciDev.net

Nigeria has launched a solar power scheme that will eventually light up as many as ten rural communities with no access to the national electrical grid. A Lagos state government official, who wished to remain anonymous, said construction work had commenced on the respective projects and contractors were expected to start delivering them around mid to late January 2008.
Some 5,000 people — living in villages in the Badagry, Epe, Eredo and Ojo local government regions — are expected to benefit. The project's estimated cost of 150 million Naira (about $1.25 million) is being funded by the state Ministry of Science and Technology.

Laudable start although 10 communities of 5000 people is hardly enough in a country of 140 million.

A pilot project began in May at the fishing village on Bishop Kodji Island, a low island of about 5,000 people between the Atlantic Ocean and the Lagos lagoon. For the first time, villagers have television in the community hall as well as power to the churches, mosques and schools.The lifespan of the panel is 30 years according to the manufacturer. Also thereis little or no maintenance: all the villagers need is to clean dust from the panels. The deep gel battery will last for 10 years," said Adenike Boyo, director of science and technology at the Directorate of Policy, Programmes and Promotion — the ministerial department that will oversee the project.

If the panels are so low maintenance and durable, that is definitely great what with our society not being a paragon on issues of maintenance. Its also good that it is a renewable energy source, so no artificial scarcity and unnecessary price raises are to be expected. No generator fumes, no noise, much much less emissions are some of the other great things about this.
Solar energy can be used for the most mundane things like street lights and parking meters and it is great that we are finally catching on.

The government of another state, Imo, in eastern Nigeria is utilising solar energy to power streetlights and other ancillary services. Government spokesman Steve Osuji said that the innovation is coming under the current administration’s 'Clean and Green Initiative', whereby Owerri city and other major towns in the state are being given a facelift. A similar government project, launched in 2002 with assistance from the Japanese government, has lit 200 rural communities in Imo, Ondo and Jigawa states as well as the capital Abuja.

Combining renewable energy with more traditional energy sources is definitely the future even for developed nations, so this is the way to go -although a thorough revamp of PHCN should definitely remain high on the list.

________________________________________

Fighting in PH

Its difficult to know if its Militants or just plain outright criminals who are killing, looting and causing general mayhem in Port harcourt. What a terrible way to start the year - my heart goes out to the people of that formerly sunny city who have been caught in the battle between unscrupulous politician and criminals as well as sometimes militants.

I know this is probably easy for me to say since I am not directly affected and safely far away, but I believe that only the people have the power to put an end to these senseless activities. The people of Port Harcourt need to stop cowering and take decisive action in protest. I know that protest will probably turn bloody, but silence is bloody as well - many people have died and lost their means of livelyhood in the past few months, so silence is not the answer. These men who are carrying out these unspeakable acts also have family - parents, wives, children - these people need to speak out. That is if they still have any semblance of conscience left in them.

Odun a yabo o...Frohes Neues Jahr...S noviim Godom...Happy New Year

2008-01-01T15:41:00.000Z

A year of new beginnings

2007-12-31T12:43:00.000Z

2007 was for me a year of new beginnings. Not in the things that were obvious and external, but where it mattered most- internally. You'd have to get into my head an see what goes on there to understand what I mean.

I had spent most of the last years walking the thin line between doing what I felt was right or pleasing people. Sometimes I failed and on such occasions, I beat myself up about it. 2005 and 2006 were years in which I felt really unhappy- basically because I had failed to please the people I care about - although many of the expectations which I failed at were, when I look back now, unreasonable demands anyway.

Anyway, I started 2007 with a trip to the UK on the 1st of January. I did very little socially - spent lots of time sleeping, hanging out with family and reflecting on my life. I returned back home, refreshed and determined that whatever happened, things were going to be diffrerent in my life in 2007. I was not going to be satisfied with the Status Quo.
I have ended this year with another trip to London. As I look over the last 12 months - which have flown by, I must say- I can say that even though I did not achieve my goal of radically changing everything- a lot has changed and I am satisfied.

I have made new friends, reconnected with old ones, been to Florence twice - it is fast overtaking London as my favourite city. I am learning Dutch and have decided to continue next year, I am learning to be less reserved with my feelings, without caring too much when people don't understand. A couple of friends have died this year - leaving me with a sense of urgency to do the best I can when I can. Its been a great year for my husband and I.

I have made some friends on blogville - some are no longer here. I have reached out to say hi and been named a stalker- which I find a bit hilarious with hindsight. All in all I am happy to have found this avenue to share my thoughts even when they are not always worth reading.......

I am glad to go into the New year continuing to change things - more determined than ever to try to do the best I can to be worthy of every extra minute that God may chose to give me.

To anyone who reads this - a blessed and prosperous 2008 to you. In the words of Steve Jobs: Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish in 2008!

In London

2007-12-28T12:33:00.000Z

Hubby and I arrived in London last night. Time to get off the internet and go explore........
(more like go visit friends and family)

Merry Christmas

2007-12-25T09:04:00.000Z

Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas!

Zwarte Piet

2007-12-15T08:50:00.000Z

I was recently in the Netherlands, the first time I've ever been there around the Christmas season. As I walked the streets, in a bid to do some Christmas shopping, I came across what was for me a shocking spectacle. It was the Sinterklas, the dutch version of Saint Nikolaus or Father Christmas, accompanied not by Elves, Knecht Ruprecht, or Sneguruchka, his granddaughter like the Russian Ded Moroz usually is. No, the Dutch Sinterklas is accompanied by his "black" , nowadays clownish, previously sinister servant Zwarte Piet. Zwarte piet as I saw it in Holland was a white person with their face painted black and wearing red lipstick, a curly, essentially afro wig, gold earrings, like those worn by the slaves of old. And on almost all shop windows, there were the too numerous to count essential stickers of the black, goggle-eyed, red lipped, curly haired Piet. You can read more about Zwarte Piet and see pictures on Wikipedia

As I walked through that shopping center, I was in shocked that the very "tolerant" dutch people should have such a tradition, and should live it in the 21st century with such gusto. And still wonder why integration isn't happening. For me the fact that Dutch people try to justify this practice when a considerable part of the population is non white says it all. It all reminds me of the carnival in Germany last February, when a colleague told me he and his wife wanted to dress as Africans, asked me where the could find African fabric, which I told him. I even showed his wife how to tie a head tie. Only for him to send me pictures later on and I see that the had also painted their faces black and of course applied red lipstick as well, with the required gold rings in their ears of course. I guess I should be grateful that they at least wore clothes.

As for Zwarte Piet, I am pretty certain black people in Holland are taunted with that name. God help any balck parent who makes the mistake of calling their kid Peter. Maybe one day the Dutch will finally move into this century, and I don't mean by allowing all sorts of junk to be smoked in their coffee shops or sex shows in every street corner.

In twos

2007-12-08T23:07:00.000Z

I saw a white Jesse Jackson in the Tram yesterday. He was smiling at me, but I couldn't work up the courage to ask to take a photo of him. It might be true what they say, that we come in pairs....

Totally random

2007-12-03T20:37:00.000Z

-I was on the brink of a breakdown, due to exhaustion, both physical and mental. I needed some time out, and I feel so much better after a few weeks off from everything. Note to self: next time, don't wait till you've almost lost your mind to switch off.

-I was in Nigeria in between. For the first time, I slept through the nights, probably due to fact that I was mentally exhausted, although after the gen was switched off, I left a candle on my bedside table- I wonder that I did not burn down the house.

-I am discovering family again, friends come and go, but your family sticks by you forever( mainly 'cause they haven't got too much of a choice, lol).

-Got my hair nicely braided by "the cotonou boys" in Ikeja, decided to get braids all the way to my waist, they are really nice, and I am already saving for the next trip home to get my hair braided, and if I have a bit of time also visit friends and family, lol. If anyone needs their phone number, let me know. I now realise that all the stares I've been getting are probably due to the hair, pity, I thought I had somehow magically grown more beautiful :)

- Was able to get money with my debit card in Nigeria, and no, I wasn't ripped off- Zenith Bank takes Mastercard and hence also Maestro cards, and Standard Chartered takes Visa. Took my first picture of an ATM in Nigeria, might put it up here if I have time.

- Zenith doesn't give receipts so I was worried I'd get back to find my bank account empty. I obviously didn't.

-Went to the new local airport to see it with my own eyes.

- Lost patience with my shallow, I think, 22 year old cousin. I hope she doesn't end up with a guy who breaks her heart. She is so shallow!

-I got copies of "Everything good will come", "Yellow-Yellow", and about 6 other books including two Segun Afolabi books at NuMetro. I tried getting Kemi's Journal, even contacted Cassava republic, but my trip was too short and I left a few days before the new copies were released.

-Spoke to Jeremy of naijablog. He sounded different from what I expected. I wonder what I expected him to sound like though.

-My husband gave me a lovely Moleskin "London" Notebook yesterday. The best thing about it is that it doesn't have any dates. Anyone who reads this blog has probably realised by now how much of a moody writer I am.

- I saw a comic book with a black girl on it in a bookstore on saturday. The background sort of hinted at the fact that the setting was in Africa. Out of curiosity I bought it. Curiousity and the fact that I try to buy afrocentric books and cosmetics especially from mainstream stores, to encourage them to keep stocking them. I even bought a Bobbi Brown lipstick once- big mistake; it tasted like ink. Anyways, the comic was titled Aya 2. I loved it! Infact, I am ordering Aya 1 this weekend.

-Having internet at home in Lagos is affordable, but exorbitant if you compare the cost to the cost in the west. It was much faster than I expected too.

-I can't believe its Christmas time again. Where did 2007 disappear to?

- I hope to be here more regularly again.

Generating sets......

2007-10-12T04:33:00.000Z

I have read several articles this week, in which some governor has promised to provide groups of people with generating sets and boreholes. In one case it was the traditional rulers in Ekiti state, in another people about to be renderred homeless by the expansion of the Oba of Lagos' new palace.
How about making sure PHCN works properly, and that the water corporation does its job like it used to? Sometimes I just can't understand how Nigerians think!

Dreams

2007-10-04T19:30:00.000Z

What are dreams and where do they come from? How come some dreams come to pass and some do not? Can we chose our dreams?

I have had dreams in the past which came to pass, or through which I got to know about some happening in someones life which I had no other human way of knowing. These have typically been very far in between, and quite scary for me. Now, in the space of one week, I have had two such occurrences. I did not ask for this "gift", and I do not want it. But I would like to understand it.

On Ahmadinejad's visit to CU: Watch your back!

2007-09-25T01:55:00.000Z

Eastern and Neo-western notions of hospitality are eons apart. In the East (and my East here includes Africa, the Middle East and Asia), a visitor is respected and honoured. In many Eastern cultures, this "guest worship" is such that some hosts give up their beds for the visitor, empty out their pantry to produce a feast and generally treat an invited guest like a mini King. In the Neo-western society, things are to say the least, a bit different.

This is the background of the "this is so wrong" feeling at the pit of my stomach after reading an account of Ahmadinejad's visit in this article on Yahoo dotcom. I can't believe how Ahmadinejad was introduced according to the article:

where the school's head introduced the visitor by calling him a "petty and cruel dictator."

There are so many things that I feel are so wrong about the way he was treated, when he came at the invitation of the University authorities. Let me state here that I do NOT like this man at ALL, or support any of the ridiculous policies of his homeland. All his anti-western stance and drama is a ruse to distract Iranians from his failure in the area of the economy, and if recent reports are to be believed, I think that some people in Iran are beginning to wake up from the deep hypnotic sleep they have been put in. I can't believe that anyone would question the Holocaust, even though I can understand Arab sentiments, that maybe responding by giving the Israel "Palestinian land" was not the best solution (as a Christian, I say here "it was written"). I do grudgingly think he is brave for standing up to the world community on the issue of nuclear weapons? even while shuddering at the thought of this madman and his extremist regime getting a hold of WMD. What gives the west the right to decide who can or cannot have weapons(weren't these same self righteous people Osama's sponsors while the going was good?).

After that disclaimer, which makes me sure that you are clear that I do not support Ahmadinejad at all, let me say that I think it was not a very wise decision to invite Ahmadinejad to Columbia University in the first place. Yeah, Bollinger, Columbia University's president has scored some cheap points by asking the tough questions. But, I am pretty sure that he will have deepened Arab anger at America by this act. I can assure you that Ahmadinejad was expecting to be treated with the same public courtesy that he would give an invited guest in his own country. Note: the keywords here are PUBLIC and INVITED. I understand and respect the freedom of speech and the right to information, but isn't this taking that a bit too far?

This is another display of a lack of what is popularly called intercultural competence in my opinion. A westerner would probably have known what to expect, I am convinced that Ahmadinejad did not. And that made his public ridicule all the more dangerous. America, thanks to Bollinger, you need to watch your back even more.

Things that mean a lot to me: My letters

2007-09-24T12:50:00.000Z

Communication has evolved tremendously over my short lifetime. I remember getting my first letter. It was posted to my dad's office and I was so excited when he brought it home for me. One of the very first letters I received was the one I got from my friend Janet after she and her family had returned to the Philippines in 1988. I was ten then, and very excited. Unfortunately, I lost this letter somehow. I got be-my-friend letters, be-my-girlfriend letters - I remember one especially from this tall, handsome Ghanaian guy, which caused some brouhaha at home because my nosy brother had read it, and showed it to my mom.

When I first went away from home to University, I remember my parents, especially my mother, sending me stuff through the driver when she couldn't visit herself and sending notes with the packages. This evolved to a sort of tradition when I moved further away to Ibadan to UI. My mother sent me letters through everyone coming that way. Never mind the fact that she and my dad visited quite often and gave me the reputation of being a "butta" in Queen Idia Hall. She still sent letters. Short letters filled with her writing, with her gs rolled in that way which was uniquely hers alone. Letters that chronicled all that was going on at home, from what my siblings were up to, to where she had been etc. Letters that ended with " your loving mother". I have all those letters and have been carrying them with me around the world now for ten years. Letters that make me feel closer to my mother's soul, even ten years since she left that unimaginable, unfillable void in my life.

During ASSU strikes, I got letters from my friends - I especially cherish the letters I got from Emmanuel. He had a special way with words and always made me feel special. I got letters from Segun, whom I had met at summer camp, who became more like a brother to me than any other person. I got letters from friends all around the globe. Letters that gave me a peek into their world, letters that made me dream, that touched my soul. I got letters from my first boyfriend, even though he was busy cheating on me since I didn't sleep with him, yet I like to think that the letters were from his heart.
One thing I really appreciate, now that I think of it, was my father's respect for my privacy. Even though he picked up most of my letters for me, I really appreciate the fact that he never ever opened any one of them. Sometimes my letters waited several weeks at home, while I gallivanted from one aunt’s home to another on holidays, or while I was away in UI. One letter even waited a whole year while I was away in Moscow. My letters were always sealed, lying on his desk, waiting for me to get home. Even when he asked, "Which boy is that writing you letters?" he never once asked me to hand a letter over. In this respect, he always respected my privacy. Note to self: tell daddy how much I appreciated his respect for my privacy.

Sadly, the letter writing culture is fading away from my family, like from millions of families around the world. It probably has to do with the fact that it takes ages for a letter to arrive, with families scattered around the globe. When I first moved away from Nigeria, we surmounted that obstacle by sending faxes. My Dean at University had never had any student who received five page epistles from her family like I did. Every sibling’s letter was included in those faxes that I got. I still have them sitting with my letters, mostly faded and illegible; yet I keep them, because, well, because I'm a sentimental person. You probably realised that by now. Every time I met up with any relative somewhere abroad, they came bearing letters. Sometimes full of incorrect spellings from my very young siblings at that time, yet they meant so much to me. I would spend nights awake, trying to draft a letter, to each and every member of my immediate family, a letter that conveyed how much they in particular meant to me. Even my "hard" brother initially sent me letters until he grew into his late teenage and perfected his art of me, myself and I.

Nowadays, e-mail and text messages have taken over. Yet, these methods of communication are so instant that I feel like something is lost. I have recently had a withdrawal from emailing, could it be that my soul yearns for something deeper, than a few quickly typed words, which are instantly conveyed the moment that send is pressed? These words can hardly be personalised. They have no character, no life. I'm glad my mother never sent me an email, because now all I'd have from her would be printouts with no unique writings, almost impersonal information. Don't get me wrong, email is important, it has its place. But for heart felt communication, give me snail mail any day.

Plastic roads: something for Nigeria?

2007-09-11T19:00:00.000Z

I just watched a report about the Plastic road technology, which was developed in India.

The technology of using waste plastic to lay durable and cost-efficient roads, developed and patented by the Department of Chemistry of Thiagarajar College of Engineering (TCE) here, has attracted countrywide attention. 1

Trials have shown that roads tarred with the Bitumen and Plastic mixture seem to be more durable than road tarred with just Bitumen/Asphalt:

The New Prabhadevi Road laid by the Mumbai Municipal Corporation using plastic-bitumen technology has withstood the onslaught of two cruel monsoons.
Today, the road, laid on December 7, 2004, is stable and has no pothole or crack.
The same is the condition of 4-year-old Jambulingam Street in Chennai. 1

500 metres on the Chavadimukku-Pullanivila stretch in Thiruvananthapuram is an
example of the strange mixture used on roads. There has been no damage to
the stretch even after one-and-a-half years, the Chief Minister said. The
technique of mixing tar and plastic is used in Tamil Nadu, he said. 2

Using this technology would help in job creation:

A unique feature of this exercise was that 3700 women's self-help groups were
involved in the collection of plastic waste. Each group was paid Rs.12 per kg of
plastic collected. 1

It is environmentally friendly, if the material is properly processed:

A km of road with a single lane will consume one tonne of waste plastic 1

And maybe, just maybe, Lagos would become at least a little bit cleaner!

Sources :

1 http://www.hindu.com/2007/01/28/stories/2007012817030300.htm

2 news:www.newindpress.com/NewsItems.asp?ID=IEO20070906023351&Page=O&Headline=Plan+to+try+out+plastic%2C+tar+mixture+on+roads&Title=Thiruvananthapuram&Topic=0

Some of my favourite books

2007-09-10T10:43:00.000Z

Reading is my hobby. I read anything and everything, from non-fictional works, to chick lit, to crime fiction, depending on my mood. The only thing I refuse to read (or watch) is anything in the horror genre. Here are some books I love and have reread more than once(apart from Nr 9!), not in the order of preference:

1) Barchester Towers - This is the second book in the Chronicles of Barsetshire series by Anthony Trollope(1815-1882). Actually I love anything by Anthony Trollope, but this is my favourite, probably because I discovered him through this book. It is also arguably his best known work. Read more on Wikipedia.

2) Emma - I fell in love with her before it became hip to read Jane Austen, lol. Her short stories are also quite good.

3) The Mystery of the Blue train - again, this book represents my love for Agatha Christie crime fiction. I have read almost everything she wrote, and more than once!

4) The Mayor of Casterbridge - tragic story by a great writer.

5) James Herriot's "All things": I remember reading the first of this series once when I lay at home in a doped on chloroquine trying to fight Malaria, at the age of ten or so. All Creatures great and small was the first book I read. You do not have to be a veterinarian to appreciate these books. I was so excited several years ago when I found a battered copy of The Lord God made them all in a flea market in Moscow.

6) Eats, shoots and leaves : The zero tolerance approach to Punctuation -

hilarious book, and quite useful too.

7) For Matrimonial purposes: This book is about the family pressure on a twentysomething Indian woman to get married. It maybe about an Indian, but it resonated loudly with me, and was funny on top of that. I definitely recommend it - it is light reading:

8) The Number One Ladies Detective Agency. First of the slightly

naive, very touching, definitely addictive series by Alexander McCall Smith. The Audio version of the book is also very good, for a nice quiet evening. This series is currently being made to a movie in Botswana. You can read more about it here and I am really looking forward to seeing it. By the way, it was mentioned just a minute ago on CNN and you can watch Inside Africa this week to learn some more about the series.

9) The Lord of the Rings - very great read, unfortunately verry long. I have not been able to bring myself to watch the movie, since I felt it could not possibly match the book, but I have heard that the movie really does justice to the books. So maybe I'll watch the movie soon. It would definitely be a lot faster than reading it again!

10) How to be a Nigerian - this is one funny book, no matter how many times

I read it it still cracks me up. I have not been able to purchase it on Amazon (last time I checked they were out), but I hope I'll be able to get it on Albiris (I set up a notification for it) or when next I'm in Nigeria. Or maybe it'll be easier to filch my dad's copy from his study lol.

This list is in no way exhaustive. I wonder if there is anyone else who likes the same books out there.

**This Template makes such posts look disastrous. Unfortunately, I do not have enough time right now to work out how to transform this template to how I really want it to look.

Things that meant a lot to me growing up: My cards

2007-09-09T08:18:00.000Z

We are a letter writing, card giving family. I got Birthday cards appropriately filled with gushing words from adoring parents for as long as I can remember growing up. I remember poring over the cards for days on end, they made me feel warm and loved by my parents. It gave me a warm protected feeling, taking the place of hugs and goodnight kisses. Since my parents settled back in Nigeria, for some weird reasons, I had become highly uncomfortable with the rough hugs my father gave us. I know it is his way of showing love, but he hugs in a funny way still till this day trying to force my 20 something head on his shoulders. I bear it nowadays because, heck, I only see the man about once a year. But I digress.

I got Birthday cards from my siblings and friends as well. I got Success cards when I had exams and Congratulation cards when I passed my exams. I got Easter cards and Christmas cards as well. I got Get-well-soon cards and Be-my-val cards. Well only one Be-my-val card, but it still counts, doesn't it? I also loved to give cards. I pored for minutes in gift shops trying to pick out the exact card which would convey the intensity of my feeling for my mom/ dad/ siblings/friends, in fact for who ever it was I was getting the card for.

I have saved all my cards since I was about 10, maybe, and I carry them around with me. That is one of the few indulgences I allow myself in my worldwide voyage. I have left furniture behind without batting an eyelid, shed a few tears over some books before eventually leaving them behind, left things behind with the hope of eventually returning to get them sometime, but never my cards. I always take them with me. They are of the utmost importance to me. Even if I only pore through them once every year, or sometimes even more irregularly, yet I know they are there waiting to take me years down memory lane, to that card from daddy on my 13th birthday, that card in which my mummy wrote how proud of me she was, that first handmade card from Eddie or that christmas card from my friend T whose becoming a mother anytime from now........The only thing that means more to me than my cards are my letters.......but that is a post for another day.

Childhood Memories: Billy the Goat

2007-08-20T21:56:00.000Z

When I was 10 or 11, my grandmother gave us a goat for a Christmas present. We took the goat with us from Ibadan, all four of us excited. It had to stay in the boot for the duration of the journey, and we kept worrying if it had enough air. While driving, we decided on a name for him. We decided on Billy. Billy was a she though, and we put her in our BQ. Finally, we had a pet of our own, we'd always wanted a dog, but Billy would do just fine.
Billy was such a sweet goat, she ate grass from our hands, stood on two hooves on our chest, was just perfect! She was white, with black spots, and had two outgrowths from her neck that looked like tiny bells. Billy had Betty, about a year later (she was probably pregnant when we got her). Betty was white with brown spots. Later, Billy had Bobby; I don't remember how that happened. He was a light brown colour and it was immediately obvious that it was a he goat (apart from his organs); he just looked very masculine, for a goat. How I loved those goats. I remember my best friend T teasingly calling Billy my sister, when we only had her. These animals affected even my parents.
We totally loved those goats, and didn't even mind too much having to clean after them. They totally rubbished the BQ, practically tearing down the door of the room where they lived, and inspecting all the other rooms, obviously leaving behind evidence, :)
Knowing Naija parents, I guess you know what came next. Billy was the first to go. Then went Bobby. We kids cried our eyes out and were inconsolable for a while. We ended up eating some of the meat later though - its sort of macabre sha. Betty had twins, which we had to give away, because my parents had had enough. Betty was the last to go.

I'll never forget my darling goats, and especially Billy. Thinking about them evokes wonderful memories of all the innocence and carefree happiness of my childhood, of a time when all was perfect, to mind.

The ethic of reciprocity

2007-08-17T08:42:00.000Z

I have been on vacation and thinking deeply about a lot of things recently, about my present, my past and my future. Somehow in spite of all the happenings around me and in my head, or maybe because of them, I have not had the urge to write recently. I will be writing about some of the things going on in my head.

My friend C and I have been through a lot together. Even now that we don't live in the same city anymore, we talk regularly on the phone and share most of our secrets. We are so different that I would not have believed that we would remain friends.

C doesn't trust anyone. It doesn't matter who you are, make a "misstep" and she doesn't give you a chance to explain, you are just cut off or harshly judged. We argue about that a lot. As much as I love C, I know she is the type of person who will always look out for number one. That has happened many times even towards me. I have often wondered what happened in her past to make her like that.

Mr. K was a married man when we were students who had asked C out. She told me that he had taken her out a few times, I knew that he called her sometimes, but she told me he was just her friend and I believed her because I could be friends with a married man, but I would never knowingly have a relationship with one. Besides, everyone knew that Mr. K had another girlfriend.

A mutual male friend of Cs and mine, Chima once told me I was just being naive and thought that everyone was like myself when the subject of C and Mr. K came up, and when I said "they are just friends".

Chima cheats on his wife.

Some random thoughts in my head:

Are we untrusting because we are untrustworthy, or are we untrustworthy because we are untrusting?
Are we harsh and critical because we have been harshly criticised, or are we harshly criticised because we are harsh and critical?
Are we unloving because we are unlovable, or are we unlovable because we are unloving?
Could "do onto other as you would be done by" have a more pertinent potential positive effect on our lives, christianity apart?

My own opinion is, yes. Living by The Golden Rule can have a positive effect on your life even if you are not a Christian.

Read more about the ethic of reciprocity here.

The Chemistry of Attraction

2007-08-14T11:17:00.000Z

I have been on vacation and thinking deeply about a lot of things recently, about my present, my past and my future. Somehow in spite of all the happenings around me and in my head, or maybe because of them, I have not had the urge to write recently. I will be writing about some of the things going on in my head.

I met H in Autumn 199_ after returning from summer holidays in Nigeria while on a weekend trip with some friends. He had come along with his flatmate who knew a friend of mine.

Somehow going back to Nigeria and spending time with my adoring family always gave me a great high. I felt renewed, felt beautiful again and had had my batteries supercharged. What I felt on meeting H during that weekend trip was an instant current-like sexual attraction. I remember telling my friend E when I got back to Uni about him, and that I hoped we would not meet up again because I had a feeling that it was beyond my power to resist him, because I knew he was not good for me, or the type of guy I wanted. Besides, he was white, jewish and at that time I could not imagine being with a white guy. When T mentioned some days later that H had talked about me and that he seemed to like me, I laughed it off, but inwardly, my treacherous heart was soaring.

Anyway, somehow, we started dating, and even though I knew somehow instinctively that it all was going to end badly, I could not control myself. There were many good times, and he could be agreat guy when he felt up to it, but he was horrible when he did not. When I refused to do something saying I had not be brought up so, he said "you were not raised, you were programmed". He had this medical condition in which he belched a garlicky smell, and quite often. He would not take his capsules and so belched often and that irritated me a lot. He made fun of the economics of Nigeria, he boasted about the amount of taxes that his father paid(to which I said "that is none of my biz, your daddy doesn't pay my school fees"), waved his Amex Gold card in my face, liked to talk about his "family jewels". Yet, the more I disliked him, the more attracted I was to him. His arrogance and feelings of superiority disgusted me more and more, yet I could not break free.

I was alienated from my friends, because they could not stand his superior ways. What hurt me most was that instead of talking to me about it, they ganged up on me and discussed behind my back. Anyway, on 8th of March 199_, after a lovely evening at the theatre to celebrate international women's day, the little rat broke up with me in a careless way.

What is the purpose of my writing about this now? I was recently in Switzerland, and while there, I saw someone who looked like him from behind and it had my heart beating wildly. I really wish I could understand the chemical reason for such uncontrollable, unfounded attractions. Why doesn't one get such feeling for good people who can contribute positively to one's life? Furthermore, how can such a feeling come through all these years to assault my senses? Those are the questions to which I would like to find answers.

Yardy's new cabinet and Why politicians steal

2007-07-26T15:17:00.000Z

I have been doing serious internet research to find out who was named to which ministry, but apart from the information about the Finance Ministry and that Yardy is keeping the Oil portfolio to himself with three junior Ministers, nothing has been so far forthcoming. Please if anyone has access to this list, post it o make we see.

I found this interesting piece from Simon Kolawole via compgovpol.blogspot.com

Simon Kolawole is the Editor of THISDAY newspaper. He holds a B.Sc. in Mass Communication from the University of Lagos and a Master's degree in Governance and Development from the University of Sussex, United Kingdom.His predecessor, Olusegun Adeniyi was appointed a Special Adviser in President Umaru Musa Yar'Adua's cabinet.

Nigeria: Why Do Nigerian Politicians Steal?

Simon Kolawole
Lagos

Why is there a mad rush for public office in Nigeria ? Let's toy with a few guesses. One, the desire to serve "my people". I have heard a lot of politicians say this a million times. It is always the preamble to the declaration of intent. Even those who go for second term usually say that it is the "wish of my people". A slogan that is becoming increasingly popular is "one good term deserves another". Good poetry, that is. Two, the desire to "make a difference". Politicians say things like they have seen the afflictions of the people and they are offering themselves for service so that they can put their expertise and experience to use for the sake of "my people". Three, "it is our turn". The other village has had it, the other ethnic group has had it, the other senatorial district has had it. It is now "our turn". Four, and most interesting: it was "my people" that asked them to run.

How do you now actualise your ambition, having decided to run for office? It depends. If you have a mighty godfather, you don't need to start from the scratch. He will do all the spending and handle all the logistics. The bill is usually in billions of naira, and you are expected to pay back as soon as you enter government, and then pay "compound interest" for as long as you are in office. In other words, you are imprisoned for the life of your tenure. If you are your own godfather, or you hire a godfather but you are picking the bills yourself, you will still be indebted to the tune of billions of naira. Perhaps, you raised a group of rich persons to fund your campaign, you are morally and financially indebted still. In a situation where you paid your bill all the way through, you are indebted to yourself. And there is no limit to how much you pay yourself back.

And then you are sworn in as, say, governor. The last thing on your mind is your campaign leaflet, with all the promises to construct roads, provide clean water, rebuild classrooms, provide healthcare facilities and transform your state to " London ". It is not your fault that you can't remember your campaign promises again. There are more important and urgent issues to deal with now. The first item on the priority list will be to build a new government house, which is modern and befitting for a governor anywhere in the world. You also need the latest bullet-proof cars, preferably imported from Germany . You may not need another wife, but it is becoming glaring that your wife can no longer handle your libido so you look for several "helpmates", especially as you now have to be travelling abroad often to look for foreign investors. You are usually alone in First Class aboard the aircraft, so it makes sense to go with a company. No, not your wife all the time.
What next? You start thinking of the next elections so that one good term can deserve another. You need to build up funds. You need to create youth associations that will be singing your praise over the place. You need to have significant interest in the media and entertainment industry so that you can celebrate yourself as much as possible. You need to "encourage" the private sector so that you can round-trip public funds to finance your re-election campaign. You need to reimburse your godfathers and financiers. You need to keep your party very happy. In fact, you have to seize the party machinery as quick as possible. You must be in charge from ward level to state level. You must "settle" the security chiefs and electoral commission bigwigs ahead of the elections. You must buy the latest cars for traditional rulers and their chiefs. You must buy over politicians from the opposing parties so that they can defect or make their parties available for your use. It's a matter of cash, Your Excellency.

With this huge bill on your neck, it makes sense that you have to raise funds to satisfy your libido and ego. Will the money fall from heaven? Not yet. Will it grow on the trees behind your house? Not sure. Most likely, it will come from the state treasury. So you sit down and prepare a budget for education, health, electrification, ecology, security and other items of interest. You also make sure council funds don't go to them; just give them enough money to pay salaries and settle a few bills. Prepare a very good budget. Send it to the legislature for appropriation. Meanwhile, you must pay "appropriation allowance" to the lawmakers, if not the budget will not see the moon of the night. Or the light of the day.
All contracts must be awarded by you and through you. If you budget N3 billion for health, make sure you take half of it and transfer it to some personal accounts. Then the remaining half should be judiciously shared among your commissioners, directors in the ministry, the permanent secretary and other leeches. Make sure at least N50 million gets to the state hospital. The Chief Medical Officer will have to cut his own share, as well as his fellow directors. Therefore, there will be no drugs in the hospital, even though, officially, the drugs have been "purchased" and "disbursed".
Also, if you want to award a road contract worth about N1 billion, increase the bill to N2.5 billion. Award it to your politician friend or your front who will kick N1.5 billion back to you instantly. The best way to go about it is to make sure no road is constructed, or the same road is constructed again and again, perhaps 20 times during your first time. That will fetch you a handsome sum.Having built up significant funds ahead of your election, you can now begin to spend more time abroad. You visit South Africa . What a beautiful country compared to yours. The best way to make sense out of it is to buy one or two houses there, so that when you run into some harsh climate at home, you can escape for fresh air, even if only for one week, in company of those tiny girls who fly first class with you. Who likes stress? You come from a country where the roads are rough, the hospitals are horrible, the electricity is erratic (to use a mild word), and education is empty. So why not send your children to school abroad? Why not spend more time in Europe , America and South Africa to escape the stress? Will you allow humility to kill you? Even ordinary mortals send their children to school abroad, much less Your Excellency, the Executive Governor.

Oh gosh, you also forgot to build for the future. Having amassed enough financial resources to run for another term in office and having bought houses abroad and stashed a couple of millions of dollars away for "official use", you need to make sure you are not like the governors of the First Republic or Second Republic who shrank in size after their terms of office. You must have enough wealth to last you for a lifetime. So, buy a bank. Set up an airline. Buy up shares in telecoms companies. Secure your future and that of your children and grand children, and great grand children. Start a wealthy dynasty. Your descendants must not know poverty again!
After serving "my people" for two terms, you can now relax and enjoy the rest of your life. On your way from the parade ground after handing over to your successor, please close your eyes. Don't see the potholes that have become deeper and broader after your eight years in office. Do not look at the children hawking on the streets to keep their families alive. Do not give a damn in the world about the schools that remain dilapidated after eight years of budgeting and appropriation. Do not bother yourself about dozens of communities without water, access roads and electricity-eight years after you decided to answer the call of "my people". Find better things to do than to start worrying about the fact that the billions of naira you "made" while in government could have turned your state into the "mini-London" you so much admire and nearly bought up. Please, there are more important things to worry about in life. By the way, if you are called upon to serve again, do not hesitate. Your country needs you. Heartless looter.

Kidnapping is Child's Play (II):
My argument, last week, was that nobody should be surprised with what is happening in the Niger Delta today. The seed of marginalisation and neglect was sown over a period of forty years, and the wildest seed was sown in the Abacha years when he used the military to repress the Ogoni people. Obasanjo contributed his own quota with the destruction of Odi and the mass murder of innocent people in the Ijaw village in 1999. Also, the Niger Delta politicians, with unbridled access to petrodollars, recruited gangsters and cultists to help consolidate their hold on power. These factors combined-that is, the neglect by oil companies and government, the official repression and the politicians' heartless greed-are responsible for the increased agitation and criminality we have today. To focus on the criminality, which is just a symptom, and gloss over the root causes will not be helpful in this matter.
Relevant Links
West Africa Nigeria
To stem this calamitous slide which has led to the kidnapping of toddlers, I suggested, last week, that all tiers of government in the region must, as a matter of urgency, embark on massive public works by engaging the services of the local people, not foreigners who may not wish to go there anyway for the fear of being kidnapped. Employing locals should produce at least two results: one, reducing the recruitment into militancy and hostage-taking gangs; two, giving the people a sense of ownership (I don't expect Niger Delta "militants" to continue to kidnap Niger Deltans who are building Niger Delta roads, schools etc to the benefit of Niger Deltans and with Niger Delta's money. There is an extent the criminal elements can go before facing opposition from their own people, I think).
I want to add today that I fully support the "constructive engagement" approach of President Umaru Musa Yar'Adua. Many people will be uncomfortable with this strategy. Some will ask: Why negotiate with "criminals"? The military in particular may not be happy. They would never like to be seen as being overpowered by militants. They would want to be seen as all-powerful and as conquerors of the Niger Delta militants. It is a matter of pride! But as the American experience in Vietman and Iraq has shown, military might does not win a war all the time. A more workable way of handling conflicts is to look at the root causes and negotiate as much compromise and consensus as possible. If you are dealing with armed robbers, you may need to fire bullets to cage them. But when you're dealing with ethnic, religious and other sectional agitations, you must win the peace to win the war.
I also advocate that the Niger Deltans must begin to ask their political leaders questions. The amount of money that has gone into the Niger Delta since 1999 is enough to turn the whole place into a Dubai . There are too many wastages and leakages in the system, and having more money seems to have aggravated the condition. This same argument can be extended to the rest of Nigeria . How many governors are truly accountable to the people? But because it is said that to whom much is given, much is expected, the people of the Niger Delta must show particular interest in the management of the extra billions that get into the hands of their governors and council chairpersons

Doppelhammer

2007-07-17T19:24:00.000Z

As we sat having breakfast on Sunday at our favorite pub, where you can have a "Hammer" breakfast consisting of cheese, a boiled egg, ham, fruit, a small glass of orange juice and some bread, all for 2,5 euros(I wonder how they make a profit, its much cheaper than eating at home), we discussed a wide range of issues, inevitably getting round to the controversial pronouncement made by the Catholic church last week. Apparently, I had been deceiving myself in thinking that heaven is my destination. I have it on the authority of none other than Pope Benedict XVI that I was deceiving myself.

I am Pentecostal, although I begin to feel less and less at home in the disorderly services that are sometimes credited to the Holy spirit. Don't get me wrong, I believe in the manifestation of God the father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. I even speak in tongues and believe in miracles. Yet, I do not believe that God can reside in the midst of the chaos and personality worship that many pentecostal churches have become. Maybe I have backslidden without knowing it? Somebody help me here.

How does this have anything to do with the Catholic church's pronouncement? My hubby has a deep respect for the Catholic church, even though he is Lutheran, because he says it is the only church that has remained unappologetically "conservative". Some of the Catholic church's doctrines are very impractical, and have definitely not stemmed from the bible- at least not the bible as I know it- maybe they have developed sometime in the almost 2000 year history of the church. However, unlike most of the other churches around, and the worst of all are the unregulated pentecostals, especially in developing countries, the Catholic church is not moved by every wind of doctrine. Its changes are usually well thought out(at least compared to the other churches). I guess the political clout of the Catholic church, not to talk of its huge financial resources make it easier for it to have an independent voice.

The Yoruba say, only God knows them that serve him, I do not dare to judge any church, all I wish is that every once in a while these religious "leaders" would pause and take a look in the Book they claim to live by.

Sieben

2007-07-09T17:36:00.000Z

Hello. I'm still here, just too much happening and its been difficult putting pen to paper. Doing the seven things post after being tagged by Chxta:

1) Sometimes, my brain moves too fast for the people around me. So we might be discussing topic a, and I make a random statement about topic b. Can be embarassing.

2)I have a peculiar birthmark in the middle of my chest. I always wondered if it has any meaning, and if it does, what it means.

3) I sucked my thumb until JS1. My parents despaired- they tried all they could to stop me- from rubbing bitter leaf to plastering my finger to rubbing hot pepper on my thumb. Nothing stopped me until I found out how embarassing it is to be caught sucking your thumb by classmates. After I caught my cousin sucking her thumb, at 21, I wondered what it would be like to suck my thumb again. It was comforting.

4) One of my greatest wishes is to find my best friend in primary five again. Her name was Janet Quijano, she was Philipina and we did a lot of stuff together. One day she could not go for P.E. and when I asked why, I learnt for the first time what a period is. She also told me how to stop your period if you want to. You have to drink a very strong saline(salt)solution. It works. I tried it once when I was 13 and on holidays at my grandma's. I was too shy to ask for a sanitary towel, and besides I wanted to go out with my uncle. I took this saline solution, and my period stopped. Never mind the excrutiating pain. Jane and I started to write our first novels that year of primary five. She moved back to the Phillipines with her family after primary five. Someone stole the only letter she wrote to me, so I could not reply her.

5) I am a sucker for underdogs. I take other people's pains too personally. Sometimes, the person is not even as bothered.Its like that Yoruba proverb- a lara lara o roun, o lo ku arun......(the person whose body it is says its doesn't ache and you are saying sorry....) - i'm not sure about the ending of that proverb, but you get the gist.

6) I always wanted to adopt a kid. As a teenager, I would say, mummy, I am going to adopt a kid someday. Typical Naija style, my mum would try to discourage me, saying "God will give you your own kids". I plan on having my own kids, God allowing, but I would also like to make a difference in some kid's life. I feel it doesn't make sense having four kids when you can have two and adopt two. Not that I want to have four kids.....

7) Wow, I'm already at number seven. I would love to blog as me, but I'm not yet sure it's the right thing for me.

I tag....

Nyemoni
April, whenever she returns
International Home
Ugo
Omodudu

Must read article

2007-06-21T03:12:00.000Z

This article from Dr. Gary Busch on the Nigerian Village Square has left me beyond speech.

Of "Christian" names**

2007-06-16T06:04:00.000Z

"Oh you had your baby, congratulations", they said. "So what are you going to call him?"
"Oluseun"- answered she
"Wow, what a nice name!, so what is his Christian name?"
"Oluwaseun is a Christian name, it means 'Thank God' "
"Okay, so what is his English name?"
"What is your Yoruba name?"

The above conversation was held between my mother and her classmates at university in London, in the late seventies when my brother was born.

I don't have an English name. That bothers some people. As a child it bothered me as well. For some weird reason, I loved the name Victoria, and always wanted to be called that. But over the years, I have come to appreciate my mother's fierce belief in the fact that having an English name is no prerequisite to being Christian, or necessary in fact. Her stand is ironic given the fact that her first name is English, her having been born Anglican.

I love the fact the everytime my name is called(the original version, not the bastardised version my Oyinbo colleagues call everyday at work, mind) it means something. I love the fact that my name and the names of my siblings tell a story. I love the fact that my middle name was passed down from my grand mother, and that both set of grandparents wanted me to have that name, I feel like I have the name by destiny. I know that I will pass that name on to my daughter and make sure that she has the name of her greatgrandmother, a strong woman. I love the uniqueness of my name. I love the fact that I don't have an English name.

Have a great weekend.

** This post was inspired by the first paragraph of this article about Chinua Achebe, who once again has proved that gold will always shine through, no matter what. Congratulations to Chinua Achebe on his win, as well as to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, whose wonderful books have kept me glued on many recent evenings. May the spirit of the ancient storytellers live long!!!!

Enjoy where you are at

2007-06-14T01:43:00.000Z

"Too many people miss the silver lining because they are expecting gold" - Maurice Setter

Could this be the reason for a lot of the discontentment in our lives, as well as the inability to reach our potential(or the constant dissatisfaction with achieved goals)? ~~Lets learn to~~ I must learn to see an opportunity in every obstacle.

**Will post again soon, I have been travelling.....

Nigeria in the news

2007-06-02T19:30:00.000Z

Africa has many problems, no sensible person would argue that fact, but by reporting only on the negatives, Western news organisations are helping perpetuate stereotypes and prejudices which are a major part of Africa's problems. No reporting at all is better than the constant negativity which Africa in general and Nigeria in particular gets from the major news organisations.

The fact that the Niger Delta issue must be reported is not one that I am disputing, the lack of objectivity is what one questions. I have seen several reports that aim at showing that the Iraqis are just like “the rest of us”, in spite of the inhuman, atrocious activities of the insurgents there. It would seem that there is nobody in Sub-Saharan Africa, or Nigeria at least who is living normally “just like the rest of us”. Things are moving on in Africa, markets are emerging and growing. There are millions in Africa who do not depend on aid, who are studying and working, who are doing a honest day’s job and are being innovative, and living decent honest lives whose stories have never and will never be told if it is left to Western news outfits. Only 419 stories and atrocities make it to the screens. No wonder millions in Africa are tuning to the Al-jazeera English service to get their news.

Reports like this photo essay on Time magazine website, are just absolutely imbalanced. While there are millions of people in Africa who live in such conditions as the refugee family pictures in this essay, can someone please tell me how that refugee family fits into the set of pictures which were shown? If they had been comparing the victims of Katrina, families from the slums of Calcutta, the Voksal kids of Russia and Indonesia’s Tsunami victims etc etc, I would not bat an eyelid, but to compare a refugee family to the other non-refugees is just plain stupid. Or are there no families in Africa that are not displaced and who are living normal (even if sometimes poor) lives? I am sure in the prejudiced mind of the Time reporter, every African lives in a camp. The other week, they had another photo shoot titled “The two sides of Nigeria” and the only people who live well that they could come up with were some Lebanese. So there are no Nigerian’s who live well or what? When I saw that photo gallery, I was irritated, but I let it go, but now, I just have to speak out.

Watching CNN’s “Inside the Middle East “ and comparing it to the same Channel’s “Inside Africa” is like comparing chalk and cheese. Not that I watch these programs regularly, but the only normal stories I've seen in a long time on Inside Africa was one about fish farming in Nigeria, and the report about Oprah’s girl’s academy. Unlike Inside the Middle East, where you get a balanced view of what is happening in the Middle East and Northern Africa (Egypt is constantly featured on IME), Inside Africa only ever portrays Aid workers or refugee camps etc, or children singing for visiting westerner celebrities. I think they need to take the program off the air, because they air enough of those on regular news shows anyway. Who needs another 45 mins dedicated to how wretched Africa is when that is all we ever hear day in day out.
You can read Chxta’s post about CNN here.

In my personal opinion, the BBC currently offers the most balanced reports on Africa at the moment.

I issue a challenge to Nigerians out there to come up with a channel and/or News Magazine that portrays our nation in a balanced way and reports our news objectively, at a high quality. There are enough good journalists out there who can satisfy the yearnings for our balanced and unprejudiced reports. They can make their money by satisfying our need for information – it would be a sort of Social Enterprise. It seems CNBC is about to pave the way by launching Sub-Saharan Africa's first international business news news channel.
To the Western news organizations that insist on reporting from Africa, let me borrow from Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala and say: How to help Africa? Be objective in your reporting. Here is positive news about the strengthening of the Naira, to cheer you up a bit.

Have a happy weekend!

NOI: How to help Africa? Do business there.

2007-05-31T19:24:00.000Z

A frankly inspiring talk at TED by Ngozi Okonjo Iweala.

Make we join hands, to make Nigeria better

2007-05-30T19:29:00.000Z

The inauguration of Yar'adua has come and gone. Although I condemn the elections that brought Yar'adua to power, I am realistic enough to know that if the elections were repeated right now, the same thing would happen. I do not believe that the bad, bad PDP rigged and cheated the poor honest other parties. I think that all parties cheated, and rigged. In fact, if they did not want to cheat, someone would cheat on their behalf, because that is how things are done.

I read somewhere today that Orji Kalu must be a good govenor because he is the only governor whose party won the governorship in two states. I laughed to myself - so, being a master rigger is now an accomplishment necessary to achieve praise as a Nigerian governor. The same people now proceeded to blame his underperformance in his state on Obasanjo. If Obasanjo had left him in peace, he would have achieved something in his two terms. Make I just no comment on that statement sha.

I think more can be achieved by reforming INEC and the system, and making sure that the next time things will be done right. Even though it might seem like cowardice, I am just thinking pragmatically here. If the elections are annulled right now and the elections are conducted over, with no reforms, the same circus will result, imho.

The many sides of Yar'adua

In trying to understand what type of person our new president is, I found this article a few days ago. I have since discovered that a lot of bloggers posted it sometime in 2006, so instead of posting it all over again(its quite long), here is a link to the post on Chxta's blog.

Battle of the wives

Meanwhile, it is highly unusual for Nigeria that not much information is available about his family. I have been able to find out that he is married to one wife and they have 7 children, but it seems his wife keeps a really low profile, no picture of her has popped up, in spite of my thorough web search. It seems Mrs. Goodluck will more than enough compensate for the lack of gra gra on Hajiya Yar'adua's part! I predict that things will be interesting in that area, me I dey go get popcorn.

Me I like my country
I like the land and people
Everything e dey for Nigeria
Make we join hand, to make Nigeria better!!!!

I like am, I like am ohhhhhhhhhh

Picture of the day: Victorian Era Nigeria?

2007-05-29T21:40:00.000Z

On a lighter note, was I the only one struck by the ridiculous outfit of the Chief Justice of the federation? Seriously though, this outfit is one relic of the colonial era that we need to chuck, and fast too. The ruffed sleeves made me laugh even more than that wig.
Okay I know that we are probably closer to the Victorian era than we think, what with the lack of basic modern infrastructure we face, etc, but the sun too hot for such attire now. If the poor man don quench because of the heat for there as Yar'adua dey repeat the oath, dem go say na someone do am.

Picture culled from Yahoo! News

The Nigerian Proclamation

2007-05-29T17:39:00.000Z

Today, five months short of 47 years since Nigeria attained independence, the first democratic handover of power from one civilian to another has taken place. On this day, which was to be a history-making occasion, the farcical elections overshadow the important occurrence.
Since independence, leader after leader has fallen over himself, each seemingly in a bid to outdo his predecessor in destroying the nation further. Millions are hungry, in a land endowed with plenty. Many values have been lost to the expedience of survival. Basic human values have been sacrificed in the survival of the fittest that is the reality of Nigeria.

I am posting the Nigerian Proclamation, as part of a laudable initiative of Solomonsydelle's, in a sign of protest against the sham, which has been forced on us in the place of democratic elections. I will however not be true to myself if I do not state that the blame for the state of things not only rests with our leaders, but also with us as a people.

When we make excuses for mediocrity, and give bribes because “he also has to feed his family, the poor policeman”, when we put pressure on our friends and colleagues who have attained political office, when we get someone to “work” our NYSC posting, so that we get posted to Lagos and not some dead end village, when we harass female students, when we mistreat our drivers and house helps- treating them lower than humans, when we get an electrician to connect us to the NEPA pole without paying, when we charm and buy our way out of a mess, when we accept questionable gifts, when we cheat our way into higher institutions, when we live so far beyond our means that the only recourse is to be corrupt, when we do wrong things and then claim it is “God’s will” to justify it, when we see injustice being done and refuse to speak out “because this country is not worth dying for”, we are contributing to the mess that is Nigeria.

Nigeria might seemingly not be worth dying for, but it’s the only country we have. There is something deep down inside one which will ever be irreversibly linked to the land of our birth.

May this proclamation be taken, not only as an accusation to our leaders, but also as a wake up call for each one of us -

Arise O Compatriots, Nigeria’s Call Obey!

THE NIGERIAN PROCLAMATION

IN RECENT HISTORY, NIGERIANS HAVE BEEN OVERWHELMINGLY BETRAYED BY THOSE CHARGED WITH ADDRESSING THEIR NEEDS. INSTEAD OF SERVING THE PEOPLE, PUBLIC SERVANTS HAVE SERVED THEMSELVES TO THE DETRIMENT OF THE MASSES.

THE RESULT IS A NATION LACKING ADEQUATE INFRASTRUCTURE, ORGANIZATION AND SECURITY. THE INEFFECTIVENESS OF NIGERIAN LEADERS INDICATES A LACK OF ACCOUNTABILITY TO THE CONSTITUENTS.NIGERIANS ARE NO LONGER RELEVANT TO THE LEADERS, THUS, LEADERS DO NOT FEEL RESPONSIBLE TO THEM.

THE RECENT FAILURE TO CONDUCT A FREE AND FAIR ELECTORAL PROCESS WAS YET ANOTHER ILLUSTRATION THAT THE NEEDS OF THE MANY ARE SECONDARY TO THE WANTS OF THE IMPORTANT FEW.FROM THIS DAY, ALL NIGERIANS ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE FUTURE OF THIS GREAT & POWERFUL COUNTRY.

CONSEQUENTLY, ALL NIGERIANS MUST COMMIT THEMSELVES TO THE FOLLOWING:

- WE MUST DEMAND THAT ELECTED OFFICIALS BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THEIR ACTIONS AND IN-ACTIONS.

- WE MUST EXPECT DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES TO BE HONORED, RESPECTED AND MAINTAINED.

- WE MUST BELIEVE THAT ALL NIGERIANS ARE EQUAL UNDER THE LAW AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS SUCH.

- WE MUST APPLY OURSELVES TO IMPROVING THE LOT OF EVERY INDIVIDUAL NIGERIAN REGARDLESS OF GENDER, RELIGION, TRIBE OR SOCIAL STATUS.

- WE MUST STRIVE TO MAINTAIN A UNITED REPUBLIC DESPITE OUR DIFFERENCES.

ONLY UPON ACHIEVING THESE PRINCIPLES CAN WE AS A PEOPLE FULLY LIVE UP TO OUR POTENTIAL AS A LAND OF GREATNESS. FOR OURS IS A COUNTRY RENOWNED FOR ITS ILLUSTRIOUS PEOPLE, AMPLE RESOURCES AND SHEER PHYSICAL BEAUTY.

Africans, North Africans, Black Africans........

2007-05-19T06:34:00.000Z

I have just read this article on the BBC about the new french Justice Minister. The emphasis on this article is that she is now the highest ranking North African in France. It got me pondering about why the western media so loves to distinguish between the various types of Africans.
Africa is Africa, I think the constant division into Sub-saharan, or black africa, as it is known on cnn, and North Africa is an expression of the underlying racism in peoples minds. I have had people say " I've been to Morocco or Tunisia, but I would like to visit Africa."
Duh, Morocco and Tunisia are part of Africa. There are cultural differences and even ethnical differences, but I think in all African countries have managed to live very harmoniously with one another. I think in the west, where the notion of a multicultural soceity is a fairly new one, its impossible for them to imagine people living together peacefully, inspite of racial or ethnic differences.

In Sudan, they say its the Arabs killing the black Africans. While I agree that the Dafur people have a dark skin tone, in my opinion, it takes a large stretch of imagination to say the sudanese president is an arab. If being one or two shades lighter is what makes them Arabs, then , then many northern Nigerians and Malians and Niger republic people and Somalis have an even more visible claim to being Arabs. While I'm not saying that what is happening in Dafur is not genocide - it is, I think its quite unnecessary to say its arabs to black, when the parties involved are obviously all blacks. The genocide in Rwanda happened even though all parties were "black african" in foreign media speak! Instead of looking for other more obvious reasons for the horrors of Dafur, like desertification of the area and just oppression of the poorer people by those in power, it must be reduced to race.

Left to the west, there would be a three tier society in africa, with Black Africans occupying the bottom layer. Oops, I forgot we are already there.

Tales out of school-part 1

2007-05-17T10:26:00.000Z

Reading about Mandy’s experiences in school brought back memories of my secondary school. I really loved my secondary school and I have mainly warm memories. All the same, there were some not so pleasant memories of this one teacher – Mrs. S whom everyone called “Mama”.

My first encounter with Mama was when at ten years old my parents dropped me off on the first day of form one. My school was a girls’ only school, and I was to start as a day student.
I had always wanted to be a boarding student- in fact I had recurring dreams about me in boarding school throughout my years in secondary school- but as their eldest child (eldest children are guinea-pigs!), my parents said either I waited and finished primary six before they would consider letting me go to boarding house, or if I so wanted to go to secondary school from primary five, then I had to be a day student.

Anyway, so our parents had to drop us off and we were herded off to a hall, where a woman called out names and sorted us into groups- different arms of form one. She called a girl’s name and the girl answered “ yes”. This woman barked “ I am not your mother’s age mate – you are to call me Mama and barked fear into our young hearts. There were legends about Mama, and it was generally acknowledged that the fear of Mama was the beginning of wisdom. I managed to steer clear of her for the first year, taking another direction whenever she passed.

Mama was my art teacher in form 2. Since I cannot draw to save my life (although I have been told that is a mental model I have to get rid of, that my art is like abstract art – another story for another day), Mama and I had a few confrontations. That is to say, she confronted me, and poor, timid and shy 11 year old that I was, I could never say anything to justify myself, all I did was mumble.My art work, painting, drawing etc was so bad that she taunted me regularly in front of my whole form, and sent me out of the class for daring to submit such homework. On one of these occasions, she sent F. out of the class as well, for not doing her homework. F. is a sickler, and she had been off school for a few weeks due to a crisis, so it was understandable that she had not done her homework. Mama said to her – “get out of my class, I won’t even bother to cane you, you will die soon anyway, and your family is only searching for someone to blame for your death.” In spite of the fact that she had humiliated me time and again, that was what made me start to hate this woman. I stood outside, an 11 year old and comforted F, also 11 at the time – “don’t worry, you won’t die, you will live and when you are an adult with a great education, I’ll help you hunt this she-devil down and we’ll remind her of all the hateful things she has said today”- or at least some childish version of that. The only good thing that came out of that episode was that F and I became really close friends. I am glad to say that she is well and alive and currently pursuing a Phd in the good ole USA.

Coo coo

2007-05-15T18:44:00.000Z

It has been a hectic time since I last posted here. April was a hectic month at work; May has so far been busy as well. I have missed blogging, but was so fagged out that I could not put hand to keyboard. I have been worked really hard... all sorts of unholy hours, weekends as well... but I am really enjoying my job. I feel my confidence in my abilities rising. That is not a bad thing at all.....

Here's a happy birthday to all fellow Taureans, out there. I'm also a May girl, turned 29 at the beginning of the month. Had a nice get-together with several friends. I had not celebrated my birthday in several years, but I decided to see out my twenties with a bang lol. Got a huge bunch of 29 red roses from my hubby, I got so many flowers from people - I had not received so many flowers since my wedding day! My red roses are currently hanging upside down on my toilet ceiling - hoping they dry properly as a momento of the day. I really do not feel 29 - I always thought I'd feel older......A lot has definitely happened, grateful to be alive..

Spoke with many classmates from secondary school in Nig, several weeks ago. It was really great to speak with people after 5, 6, 7, 10 years and still instantly feel the connection. I have always gotten easily attached to people - sometimes even when I have not had any conversation with them. I remember after leaving Nigeria, feeling nostalgic for a guy who used to attend lectures with me, (and it was nothing romantic at all).
This issue of me getting deeply attached to my friends has always made it difficult to make new friends - because the older you get, the more difficult it is to become intimate with someone. It can also be a disadvantage because I feel things concerning my friends sometimes too deeply – as my mum liked to say “alara lara o ro un, olo ku arun…(lit. the owner of the body doesn’t say its aching, but you are saying sorry). One day I'll write about Adeola O. and the first time I got into hot water at eleven for taking someone's problems too much to heart, and for trusting them too much.

Started learning Dutch. Somehow I know deep down inside me that I'll probably never become good at this language, but I feel really mentally relaxed during the lessons, that I'll just keep on at it.

Met some Indian colleagues at a conference recently. It was really interesting to listen to the new generation still talk about arranged marriage like it was perfectly normal. Still I have to say, I think that Nigerians and Indians have a lot in common culturally -although we also differ in many ways. Anyways, I'm rooting for M, who is hoping to convince her parents to allow a love match(in India talk, that is when you get to marry the person you love and chose yourself as opposed to having an arranged marriage).

My best friend is pregnant. I am so excited, we've known each other for ever, she is like my sister, and even when we have not talked for ages cos she lives in Lagos, we are always comfortable with each other. We have taken most of our major steps in life at the same time, and she said "hurry up and get pregnant now". I can't admit to anyone that I'm scared of becoming a mother. I don't know if this makes any sense to anyone, but I love children so much and have always wanted to have a child so much that I'm afraid reality won't match all my daydreams. What if I can't be a good mother? What if I'm too strict? What if my child doesn't like me?..... I know totally stupid, most children love their mothers. Since my parents prayers are probably sounding with a hysterical frenzy now, I am hoping God waits a bit before answering them. Meanwhile, C.K. and I had a near miss in March. It was not funny at all. I only allowed myself nostalgic feelings after I was certain it was a miss.

I can't believe I have written so much, considering the fact that I have been having a blogger's block the last few weeks.
That's all for now folks.

Lecturers prey on Nigerian women, girls

2007-03-26T04:32:00.000Z

More naija dirty laundry HERE- thank God it is being aired though!

Imagine, girls as young as 11 being sexually harassed by teachers; it's a pity that this malaise of our higher institutions has gotten to younger girls, but it was only a matter of time. I remember hearing whispers from classmates in the primary school I had just joined (we just moved cities) about a girl having gotten pregnant for our Yoruba teacher the year before. I was in primary five, nine years old, almost ten and this was several months before I learnt, also from a classmate, what menstruation was - so you can imagine how innocent I was. This girl must have been around 13 or maybe slightly older and she had reached what would probably be her adult height and was very "ripe", that did not in anyway make it right!!! It is sick for any adult man to take advantage of a child entrusted to their care, where is the honour of these paedophiles??? Oh, they probably do not see themselves as sick people sha. It is just enjoying "perks of the profession"!

Its things like this that make me very disdainful of the people blaming the west for all of the erosion of values in society - as far back as over 60 years ago, my aunt was impregnated by her principal, in a very traumatising experience, that has her rejecting her child. Lets face it, many of our men don't know how to keep their trousers up, and it doesn't have anything to do with oyinbo!

Hair issues

2007-03-25T15:47:00.000Z

I finally got my weave on out last week after having it in for a record period of 3 months. I just had to wash it in between, because I kept imagining that my colleague had changed departments and subsequently moved out from the office I shared with him, because he could no longer stand the smell from all the hair products and sweat emanating from across the room.

Speaking of which, why do I always get the guys who are hygienically challenged in my office? The guy who moved out loved to poke his nose,and he had a perpetual cold- the type you can smell several feet away(sorry to gross you out). He sometimes used my phone or touched my computer - my skin positively crawled, and I had been debating a polite way of telling him not to use my phone before he had the good sense to move. Just as I was sighing with relief, he was replaced, and his replacement not only pokes his nose, but also picks it and puts the stuff straight into his mouth. EEEWWW. I must urgently tell him to try and limit that to when I'm away from my desk. I do not need to see that after lunch!

Anyway, I digress from my topic, so I finally had my hair relaxed and it reaches just below my shoulders now. The reason for my jubilation over this perhaps to you not necessarily long hair was that one and half years ago, one preoccupied Jamaican hairdresser in London decided "everytin 's bad, ei trim it for you". As she was more intent on discussing the latest misdemeanours of her baby father with her friend than listening to my objections about cutting off all my hair because it had some minor split ends, I ended up with a cut that looked like this: as in not nice looking at all, more like some rat had gotten to the back of my head. I am almost sure the fact that my dad and I had an argument later that evening had to do with the fact that I came back from the hairdresser’s with my head round as a ball and shiny with my hair funnily plastered around my face.
Seriously the hair looked quite nice enough when I left the salon, but trying to maintain a sane look with that 1/2-inch of hair at the lower half of my head was very difficult.
That is why I have been jubilating at my regained hair length and have spent my whole weekend perusing http://www.growafrohairlong.com/ trying to find out ways of ensuring that I never return to that state where I cannot pack all my hair in one again.

I have had a very good experience with using dark and lovely’s oil moisturiser spray for several months now. That has ensured much better moisturization for my very dry hair. I have also been steaming my hair with several concoctions at my hairdressers fairly regularly consisting of motions and fantasia products. In fact, I think a substantial part of my paycheck lastyear went toward financing her new house. My dh does not understand why I cannot relax my hair at home myself- I can and have done that in the past, but since I did not study hairdressing in the university, I decided to give myself over to the experts - not the crazy scissors wielding type, thank you very much. Leave my split ends alone, na me get am!
By the way, if anybody reading this has any tips about re-growing the hairline, I would be very grateful if you shared that with me.

Continue doing your thing, Charles! ( The Prince's Advocate)

2007-03-25T14:58:00.000Z

My opinion doesn't count for too much on the issue I am writing about, since I am not British. I am nevertheless one of the not very many (so it seems at least from a perusal of London dailies) admirers of Prince Charles.

My admiration of him dates almost 20 years, since I read about his landscape paintings in one of my mother's copies of Woman's own. Being Nigerian, I was impressed that a future king could have other preoccupation apart than chasing small girls or throwing his weight around and making life difficult for everyone. That liking was in no way diminished by finding out over the years about his environmental awareness drive, the fact that the organic food brand Duchy Originals was his brainchild and is owned by him and finally about the Prince's Trust respectively. I was therefore very happy after reading this article, which for once stood up for Prince Charles.

I think it was a pity how Diana died, and also very sad how her marriage to Charles broke down, but I do not think that it is fair to put all the blame on him. Bluntly put, Diana was not a saint either. Whether or not she was pushed to her indiscretions during and after their marriage by Charles's going-ons with Camilla, and/or the disdain of the Queen for her is a point which I cannot argue on, as I do not have enough information. One thing I do know is that, whatever pushed her, a lot of her actions were unacceptable. However it would be too much to expect people to be fair in their judgement of Charles, after all, sex sells and sexy he is not! Besides, these are the same people who have elevated Jade Goody to celebrity status - I rest my case.

I love you

2007-03-06T16:24:00.000Z

When we met, we fell deeply in love. We said we could go to the ends of the earth for each other and we meant it. I walked around all radiant, because finally I had found my one true love. People had misgivings, parents were worried. Why on earth did you have to fall for someone a world apart? It never works out, it can't be love, its for material gain, what didn't they say?

In spite of that we went ahead. Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life. You said to me a few months before we got married, as we discussed problems that could come our way "the problems will probably come where we least expect them". You couldn't have known how right you were.

Somewhere along the line we stopped communicating. We knew we loved the other person, but were no longer sure about how they felt towards us. The voices kept getting louder - get rid of her, he is no use to you. We spent more time fighting than we did having fun. You placed ice cold walls around you heart and kept me out. I started to act out, to try and provoke a reaction from you. You withdrew even further.

We got to a point where we decided separation was the only option. We sadly gave in "everyone was right, such relationships do not work afterall". I was shattered, went about my life like a zombie. I loved you more than life itself, yet I could not continue being the only one working at this relationship. Cultural differences had not helped matters. I would say one thing, you would hear something else. You would say something and I would understand it differently.

Both stubborn as bulls, neither would give an inch, I would thaw and you'd be frozen, and then you'd thaw and I'd be frozen. I lived to receive your calls, yet I was ice cold most times when I answered the phone.

Finally, I started to pray. When I met you, you fit completely the description I had written in church about the Man I wanted to marry, right up to the huggable part. I wondered now, whose voice I had heard. You could not have been meant for me if it turned this way. I had no way of knowing you were going through the same things I was. I knew that the faults were not all on your side, I can be difficult to live with. It had been a difficult time for us both, with settling down and trying to start a new life together.

Then finally, you said the thing I had been waiting to hear - you said you remembered again why it was Me you married and no one else. You said, "let's try again". I was so shocked that I could not react. The one thing I had given up hope upon was happening.

I realised that this was a refining process. I will never take you for granted again. I hope you won't me as well. I am so greatful to God I received back the man I married.

I love you my Huggy bear, I pledge my life to you anew. You make me complete, I could never be the person I am without you by my side.

I love you.

Oprah's gift and my tears

2007-02-27T21:31:00.000Z

I shed bittersweet tears this evening after watching these videos about "Oprah's girls".

Tears of joy for the gifted, determined, wise little girls who have had their lives transformed so dramatically by Oprah's gift. Tears of joy that their dreams have come true, that they have an amazing chance. Tears in hope of their reaching their goals and beyond.

Sad tears for the fact that over 40 years after Nigeria gained independence, we have still not gotten it right. There are still millions of girls who are just like those girls in the videos, even worse off in Nigeria.

I shed tears because we have leaders content to ride their Mercedes Benz on roads riddled with potholes, like the shock absorbers make it okay. I weep silently at our "elite", content to live in mini-fortresses which double as lighthouses, because they are the only ones able to afford generating sets in the neighborhood, instead of fixing electricity. They ship their children abroad en-masse to be educated, at institutions they could never afford by legitimate means or private universities at home, instead of fixing the system. I shiver at people who proudly talk about "our culture"- a decayed neo-culture, a caricature of the old values, where one with neither any sense at all nor of a high moral standing is valued more than millions of higher worth, just because of filthy lucre.

My sad tears are also occasioned by the situation of our young people. For poverty is a curse, but a lack of dreams and burning aspirations apart from baffs, a big car and the latest this or that is an even greater curse.

Ask a cousin what you can get for her and you will ninety times out of 100 hear her say perfume, or timberlands or a top. It is rare nowadays to hear "a book" . Even the privileged youth take their opportunities for granted, lofty aspirations are a waste of time, get rich quick schemes in order to "make it" are the in thing now.

I shed tears at my own cowardice, I feel a yearning to make a difference, yet fear of the unknown and a reluctance to leave my comfort zone is preventing me from trying better than half heartedly to make a change.

I shed tears because I don’t know if I will ever be brave enough.

And the Oscar goes to... and the snubbing of Nollywood.

2007-02-26T06:07:00.000Z

2006 was a good movie year. I haven't seen most of the movies, but the ones I have seen were good. I think Helen Mirren deserved her best actress win. I totally enjoyed The Queen and the droll humour got me all cracked up. I would have liked Blood Diamonds to win something because I thought it was a truly memorable movie and Leonardo Dicaprio and Djimon Honsou were good. Either way, I am particularly pleased by the list of winners this year.

Black actors have not just miraculously gotten better since Denzel Washington won the best actor Oscar in 2001 - the first to be so recognised since Sidney Poitier in 1963. They are just finally working on a more level playing field. I am so happy that Forrest Whittaker won the Oscar, even though I have not yet seen the movie for which he won it - The last King of Scotland.
Now, hopefully the day will come, and soon too, when women of colour(gosh I'm sounding like that cosmetic advert on CNN!) get a truly level field. I fear the battle will be harder - just cos we are women. Anyway, since Halle also won in 2001, I'm believing that other people will be given a chance to play challenging characters. Jennifer Hudson's win makes her a real Dreamgirl! It certainly doesn't get dreamier than that.

I know African-Americans are busy denying Barack Obama is 'black" enough in the American context because his father was African and did not go through slavery. Yet, whatever some people say or think, I still firmly believe that when a black person anywhere in the world breaks a barrier, they have brought all black people around the world one step closer to equality. Their success makes it possibly for us all and our children to believe that all things are indeed possibly for him that both believeth and works hard.
So, I rejoice for the African-Americans who are suceeding in their fields like I rejoiced when Wangari Maathai won the Nobel Peace prize - in spite of the fact that most Kenyans have an inbuilt - unjustified in my opinion - distrust and dislike for Nigerians( but hey, I'm Nigerian, so maybe that's why I think so).

To other issues, in the last few days, I have seen/read several news reports about the African film industry where Nollywood did not even get a mention. I will be the first to admit that most Nollywood movies are rubbish, but since we all also know that Nollywood is the third largest film industry in the world, I feel that Nollywood deserved a mention. Instead, one was fed with information over the fledging South African move industry. I wonder if they paid for the PR which they got! Nollywood needs to tighten its belt and stop churning out crap - or else no one can complain when its looked over.

Ohmmmmm!

2007-02-05T19:49:00.000Z

I've been very wound up the last few months and an old acquaintance, V, with whom I met up recently after about five years of very rare contact, suggested Tibetan Yoga. I got home and did a google search and found out that apparently, the body consists of seven "chakras"(actually Tibetans say its five, so I bet some westerner has done some wuruwuru- mixing Tibetan, Nepalese and Indian therapies) - seven "principal energy centers" which correspond to the seven endocrine glands, also known as chakras. Abnormal health, stress etc is supposedly caused by the fact that these chakras are not functioning like they should.
These five relatively simple exercises(also known as five tibetan rites) will apparently , according to this website:

"balance the 7 chakras & regulate the hormonal output. They affect our digestive system, cardio vascular system, nervous system and respiratory system.These low profile yogic secrets of the Lamas will unearth all the energies and an awesome power lying dormant within you, aligning it with the cosmic energy to give you the best of both mind & body."

V claims that since she started doing these exercises daily, she has felt much better than in a long long time.

I tried the first exercise , if one can call it that, basically standing with your arms spread and spinning round and it felt good. Like it always has. Now, I didn't know a thing about Tibet when I was eight and spun round and round on that warm evening when it rained heavily and I could smell and almost taste the sand and dust saturated steam that rose as the rain hit the dry season pavements, roaring in my ears as I whirled round and round with my siblings. It felt good then and it sure feels good now.
Spinning is fine, but I am determined not to cross the thin line between therapy and exercises and ideology, which is one of the reasons I have steered wide clear activities like Yoga and meditation in the past. I think I will still do the exercises, but no way I'm "emptying my mind" or meditating. The only meditation I'll be doing is praying! Interesting the way people are into alternative therapy these days.
Another friend suggested Chinese therapy to help me relax- acupuncture, massage, etc. Mmm, it all sounds very tempting, but I'm scared to get involved in something I can't handle. I am sure though that it would relieve my stress, nothing like a bit of massage with oils to make you feel good about yourself.
Meanwhile, V claims she can't drink any alcohol because her "seer" wants to pass her powers to her. Men, I am glad I only see her once in like five years o. Like life is not hard enough, for one to be looking for extra trouble by going to seers, seriously, I found it creepy. In this day and age. Na wa.

On another note, here are is a page I came across as I surfed along the Blogville.

Black people love us - I'm not really sure how to take this website, maybe I have lost my sense of humour?!?! OK,I think they are trying to provoke people to think about their prejudices, but isn't it a bit extreme?

"Happiness isn't a destination but a day-by-day journey!"

2007-02-01T21:54:00.000Z

Click here to this devotion from Rbc's Our Daily Bread.

Fuel scarcity? Rent a bike.

2007-01-30T19:38:00.000Z

The Netherlands is quite an interesting country in many different ways, but what has captivated me most about this country is the bicycling culture. I was so amazed on a recent trip to Amsterdam to see the huge bike "flyover" in front of the central station that I had to take pictures. I have never seen so many bikes in one place in my life. And its the same picture all over the country.

Biking(and I don't mean Okada o!) would be a great way out of all the difficulties faced by Nigerians during the regular as a clockwork fuel scarcities in Nigeria. And before you rush to say that its unsafe biking on Nigerian roads and especially in Lagos, I recall reading various reports that likened Lagos to a ghost town due to a dearth of cars on its streets because of the inavailability of fuel.
Infact, this could even be a good business opportunity for some people. Imagine buying several bikes to rent out for a certain amount of money. Minimal maintainance, maximal profit. Almost every damage can be fixed by oneself. A friend of mine once said she had to ride Okadas in her estate because taxis and buses dropped people at the entrance to the estate and it was to far to walk in the blistering sun. Just visualise Mr. X owning a bicycle rental at the entrance to the estate. He would have railings to lock up the bikes both at the estate gate and nearer to the houses so people could return bikes they had borrowed from one end to the other "depot". Please go ahead, steal my idea. I'm eager for you to. The benefits would be great, no more environmental pollution, free exercise, no longer being at the mercy of Okada drivers, bicycle accidents are less fatal, I could go on and on. My people, the pure water business is so out, the new craze should be rent-a-bike. At least this one, it won't leave the roadsides littered with polythene bags.

In fact, I'm thinking of starting a Bike for survival initiative :)! The only obstacle I can see to it is our bigmanism culture, where some people would rather ride in death trap "taxis" or buy resurrected 30 year old Tokunbohs to cutting their coats according to their size and buying good old Kekes. But sha I have faith in the good old younger generation. Infact I think one of those wildly popular people just needs to take up biking in Lagos, and you will see how people will follow. Abeg, bikes are the new Jags.

Duke's blog

2007-01-27T23:45:00.000Z

Now Donald Duke's blog is only open to invited readers. Mmmm.

Serena's back!

2007-01-27T16:03:00.000Z

Whoopee!!!! Serana has proved her critics wrong again beating Maria Sharapove 6-1 6-2 in just 63 minutes to take home the Australian open cup . Those who said Serena can't play, would you like to say that again??

I'm so glad she won, Maria, sorry, better luck next year. I have to say though, Maria was extremely gracious in her comments. I'm looking forward to Serena getting back in the top 5 in the rankings again. As it is, with this win, she just moved from 81st to 14th position. Well done, Serena. Now the next big event I'm looking forward to is James Blake making it to world number 1.

Bring up a child in the way he should go

2007-01-27T03:20:00.000Z

I saw a link for this new short story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie in the New Yorker on Uknaija's blog(thanks for the link) and I must say it is a must read. It reads like non-fiction, but even if it is fiction, it captures one of the dilemmas of modern day Nigeria very vividly. In fact, not just Nigeria, but the fact that the law is more buyable in Nigeria makes it worse.

Many parents care so much about what others think and say and because of that put their children's future in jeopardy by not making sure they are properly and adequately punished when they err.
Many teenage boys in Nigeria go through this stage of stealing and extreme misbehaviour. Their parents raise their hands in despair, and make raise up a lot of warm air, but do not really try to get to the root of the problem. I am speaking from the experiences of friends and family members.

Case 1 - A friend of mine in secondary school sneaked out his british passport and sold it to some mallams for 75000 Naira in those days. And spent the money in a few days. His parents were upset with him, after they finally dragged the truth out of him. They then took him to the british embassy and police station, claimed the passport had gotten stolen, got him a new passport and shipped him off to London. Tell me, is that the right way of dealing with such behaviour?

Case 2 - My cousin who repeatedly stole tens of thousands to take to school to show off. His dad threatened brimstone and fire, locked him out of the house one night, but his mother kept telling the father "jo rora", please take it easy. What was that amount of money doing in the house in the first place? Even today his poor mother is still in her old age making excuses for him. And outsiders are not buying it anymore.

Case 3 - A son who beat his mother up because she didn't give him the money he asked for- simply because he could not afford it. He terrorised his mother so much, brought guns into the house, his father just emotionally withdrew and acted like he was unaware of all the ongoings. He ended up finally being shot dead by policemen during a clash with cult gangs (he was a cult member).

Case 4 - There was a story carried by all the daillies last year about a commisioner in an eastern state who had been shot dead by her own son. This son had apparently been charged with rape years ago and the only fitting punishment his parents could find for him (probably in order to save face) was to ship him off to America, in order to prevent him from facing the music. Since a leopard does not change his spots, this young man soon got convicted of a crime in the USA, and after facing his prison term, was deported back to Nigeria. It was when he got back that he killed his mother and stole her car.

All the stories above demostrate failed parenting very starkly. Our people care too much about what other people will say, etc, so they let their children get away with things they should not be getting away with. And some are just too busy chasing after mammon to be able to carry a punishment through. For them, such behaviour is just irritating and doesn't fit into their well planned scheme. I don't want to generalise, but some Nigerian parents are not fit to be parents at all. In fact, may times the problems with their kids can be traced back to the parents. When a person has no respect for the sanctity of human life, treats other people as a means of getting what he want, does anything to aquire the most important thing to him (in Nigeria, that is usually wealth), has no principles, it is no wonder that the lives of many young people are being destroyed. After all, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. The sad thing is that, as with everywhere else, its usually children from well-to-do and middle class families who have these behavioural problems. When you outsource the upbringing of your children to God knows who, just in a bid to make more money - be ready to one day face the consequences. And blaming the moral decay on western society is just because we refuse to look deeper. Most of the blame rests firmly at the parents' doorstep. I remember my mother randomly checking my bag in primary and making me return every pencil or eraser that she did not buy for me and asking fiercely "where did you get that from?" - most times it wasn't delibrately taken anyway. There was no way you would come home in clothes my parents had not bought for you and it would not be noticed. In fact when my older cousin who lived with us started to do runs, he made sure to keep the newly acquired baffs well out of sight. He could be as cool as he wanted on the street, but dared not bring that past the doorstep.

Almost a whole generation has been destroyed by cultism and other ills, it is important for our generation to take our parenting tasks seriously. If you can't afford more than one child, don't have more than one so you can spend time bringing up your child properly instead of running three jobs to make ends meet and having no time for the four children you decide to have. Also be strict with your children. I'm not saying be a "god of judgement" type of parent, but even while being loving and striving to be friends with your children (as is the modern way- and it good too), remember your child is not your friend. You have a responsibility to God, your nation and your child to bring them up the right way. Otherwise, you'll have no one to blame when they turn out badly.

We are mirrors of acceptable behaviour to our children. If your child sees you beating up your wife or cheating on your husband, filing false tax returns, using a fake title you did not earn, taking bribes or using false documents, somehow, subconciously, it will take it for granted that things should be that way. When you start getting righteous when he steals from you at 16, its already too late to fix things. You need to be consistent from day one. If you do believe that stealing is the only way forward, then teach your child how to steal well, no pretences here. What does the greatest harm is the double morality of our parents. They do stuff which is obviously wrong, and then pretend like you are a fool and can't see it and start preaching to you and taking you to church. Thats why one sees some young people who despise their parents.

Remember " train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he shall not depart from it" Proverbs 22:6

A bit of good news after all that time in the wilderness!

2007-01-26T18:03:00.000Z

After a long run of bad news, two relatively positive news stories about Nigeria in the international press.
The first is that Nigerians can finally fly at night due to the installation of more powerful radars. Now, hopefully they'll also fix the street lights and get robbers off the streets, then, I truly believe that Nigerians will start to fly at night in Nigeria.

The second news story is simply inspiring, because it is about someone who is using her passion to benefit others and improve our society. Read about Nigeria's "Lady Mechanics" here and maybe you'll feel a surge of hope like I did. It is wonderful to see that some people do not see a life of crime and cheating as the only way out. I am particularly impressed with how structured the whole project seems to be, with the girl's receiving Engineering classes etc.

I'm savouring these stories "well well", because who knows when next there will be anything positive about naija that will actually be carried in the international media.

No spoiler for life

2007-01-25T22:21:00.000Z

A spoiler is a summary of a narrative or part of a narrative which relates part of a plot not revealed at the early part of the narrative itself.(More Info here on Wikipedia)
Since part of the enjoyment of a movie or book is due to the surprise element, a spoiler could spoil some of the enjoyment one would derive from a book or a movie. So spoilers are generally not desirable.
Life is like a movie. Some of the things that happen are surreal and sometimes it takes hindsight to be able to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. When there are pleasant surprises ahead or life is proceeding serenly, I am glad there is no spoiler for life. There are times when I wouldn't mind a spoiler for life though. It would help make better choices sometimes.

Lurking

2007-01-25T20:37:00.000Z

I've been around, popping at different blogs several times during the day, but somehow, until today, could not put anything down. Not only because I've been busy, but also because I have not quite found the right way to say all I have to say. Now, if only I could be so restrained in real life......

Caution - sleepy girl behind the wheels

2007-01-25T20:29:00.000Z

Several times in the last few days, I have had close shaves on the way to and from work. I find myself driving past crossroads only to ask myself seconds later "was it green?". Today things got to a head, driving on reserve fuel and rushing to the petrol station before I would have to push my car myself- this is not Nigeria where you'll find a fine man who'll pity you and stop on the road to assist you. If that happened here, I'd be on my own. Anyway, as I rushed down the high street, a bus came in the opposite direction. He wanted to turn right and I also wanted to turn right. Instead of him to turn immediately, he slowed down, next thing I know, I'm turning before him, I mean, I still don't believe that it was my foot on the gas pedal. The bus driver was mad, he shook his fist at me. They kukuma think that they own the road sef, these bus drivers. Anyway, I for lose my license if anything happened. I hope this driving while half-asleep phase ends soon o.

I don't understand why it is that when I am afraid on the road, instead of slowing down and driving like a snail like a normal person would do, me I press the gas pedal as far down as I can go. It amazed and aggravated my driving teacher to no end, and it still amazes me today. Maybe it is naija ogboju using style to show face.

Naija blogville

2007-01-25T19:07:00.000Z

The hot topic of the moment amongst Naijas is blogs. Everywhere, you see new hot blogs springing up, links to interesting blogs you haven't managed to find on your own yet. More and more talented Nigerian writers and rediscovered old blogs are in serious competition for my time o. Even on NVS, there are several threads and articles which have sprung up in the last few days discussing blogs all sparked by an article by Vera. It seems this fever is not limited to 20 something year olds, even some mamas and big aunties are into the thing o. Thank God sey no be only me sha.

On a more serious note, I can't forget the day I discovered blogs. It was in January 2006. I don't remember what I was searching for half bored on google when I stumbled on Naijablog and was jolted wide awake. I was so fascinated that I spent the whole night reading posts from his archives(ok, yes I know I no get work). The light of my laptop kept C.K. awake in our bedroom. He kept waking up and sleepily asking "what are you reading?", "are you still reading that page?". For months I only lurked and wondered who those people were who left messages. Then one day I discovered his "blogs I read list". And I was lost.

I remember printing out Soul Sista's entries at work to read on the train home and hoping no one would catch me, because it would have been very embarassing to have been looking so serious like I was printing out a confidential document only to have been found out printing a blog entry. One weekend sef, I printed the entry out and forgot to take it on my way out. I went back on Saturday ni o. I still have some of those printouts amongst my papers.

I am grateful that I discovered blogs. I had sort of lost touch emotionally with Naija, and reading posts from home, about home, and written by people both in Nigeria and away really awakened a part of me that had been asleep for too long. Or maybe it was just my gbeborun(inquisitive) nature exhibiting itself. I discovered Obudu ranch, th mountain race and the beauty of Calabar on blogs, the picture of Alams in his gele is one that still manages to draw a few chuckles out of me everytime I conjure up the mental image.
Right now, I wonder how I manage to get anywork done. I mean it seems like new naija blogs are springing up every second o. In fact, we should ask one of those people in statistics to tell us the real number.
I mean, can you beat the gist?Dem sweet pass novels, in fact some sef, dem pass M&B and if you know how much I loved Mills and Boon in secondary school, you'll know that is high praise indeed. Some are so educational, with well researched posts, I can relate very closely to some posts, they mirror life.
I like the fact that everyone can find their own spot in Blogville. If its red light district, we get our own, SUB(Student Union Building- where the politics go down) sef e dey. Marriage counsellors, comics, mothers, students, quiet ones, vivacious ones, expats, name it, we've got it. More strength to the elbows of Naija blogville and may your strength never die.

Pictures from the Calabar Carnival

2007-01-20T16:16:00.000Z

One picture from the 2006 Calabar Carnival, courtesy of Nigerian Insider dot com. Click this link to see the tweleve other pictures loaded on the page. I would love to be part of the 2007 carnival, if there will be one after Duke leaves office. Meanwhile some clerics have seriously condemned the carnival, saying it has "evil connotations.

Low class behavior or racism?

2007-01-20T09:01:00.000Z

Where does lack of class end and racism begin? Reading the entire furor about the behaviour of Jade and co. on CBB has given me a lot to think about in the last few days.
The issue of people not being able to pronounce or write your name properly, even though they pronounce Polish names with ten consonants after the other without battling an eye has always annoyed me. I saw a post by the editor of a German Expat newspaper about a couple getting married. The father of the bride, I think, was not German. So, basically, when the official at the registry was calling out the names- she prefaced saying the bride’s name with “ now here comes the tongue twister”.

Subtle racism at work

I get that at work all the time, with people giving excuses like “you know that is an unusual name for our European ears”- (yes idiot, your own name is also unusual for my African ears, yet I say it properly), or “Whoa… please spell that out”. My colleague, with whom I shared an office for a year, still spells my four-letter first name wrongly.

I moved cities for work, and had to go get registered at the city council, and my then boss said something like “ it might be a bit difficult, they might think you are an asylum seeker”. Now, I’ve lived in several countries and faced more than my fair share of racial abuse (see previous post Xenophobia in Russia) but nobody has ever seen me and thought I was a refugee ( nothing personal against geniune asylum seekers). So, I took offence to his words and he excused himself by saying that “I’m only trying to prepare you for the “public servant mentality”, your other east European colleague also faced this at the airport”. Well, I went to the town hall and registered and was done in five minutes, with no stupid questions asked. So, who has a mentality problem?

Relationships and racism

One of the reasons why I’ve been interested in seeing people’s reaction is that C.K. always says that I’m overreacting. Most of the time, I never react at those people, but get home and talk with him about what happened and why it upset me. And he says, you are overreacting, they are just badly brought up people and don’t know how to behave, or he says, ah, just ignore them. When I expressed my lack of enthusiasm about visiting his sister, whose favourite topic of discussion is black people (I am tired of being the conversation)- for him I’m just being too sensitive. They are only trying to learn, and I’m always too sensitive anyway and he has never met anyone as sensitive as I am. When I refused to attend the 80th birthday of his uncle who just sits and stares at me though, he didn’t make a fuss and just said he knew I wouldn’t go.

Questions

Now, C.K. is the least racially prejudiced person I know. Even I am more prejudiced towards black people who are illegal for no reason other than the fact that they think that in Europe the streets just flow with milk and honey. But his way of burying his head in the sand when it comes to racial issues scares me. Will he be able to stand up for our unborn child if that child gets taunted in school, or will he just tell him to chin up?
I mean, if someone calls a black person a Negro around him, he immediately says a sentence about "yeah and we europeoids..." or something like that, to sort of alert the person to the fact that he thinks its wrong, but still his usual reaction to racism is to become cool and snobbish with the person acting in the offensive way. Unfortunately, that only extends to strangers. For closer people, he always has an excuse.
This attitude worries me when I think about our life together on the long term.

Wie bitte?

Having lived in Russia, I do think racism amongst the unexposed is based on ignorance. A lot of my Russian classmates used to apologise before asking a question. They would say “you know we have no clue about these things, that’s why we are asking you. Please don’t be offended”.
Example:
I have an Ukrainian friend here, my main reason for becoming close with her was because I wanted to get the opportunity of speaking Russian on a regular basis so as not to forget the language. She saw some movies at my place one day and decided she wanted to borrow them. Two days later, she called me on my mobile and told me she had finished watching one of the movies and had found it extremely funny. So, I asked which one, not in my wildest dreams expecting what came next. “ The one with all those ni**ers”, she said. I was like “ wie bitte?” (as in “ excuse me?”). I guess she knew she had made a big blunder then, because I am very level headed and never react so violently. She then said, “ I mean the one with the mulattoes… with the coloured people… I don’t know what to call them!!!” she finally said, sounding very distressed. Now she is a bush girl. A literarily very bush girl, from the backwoods of Ukraine, so I sort of understood that she was uneducated about blacks etc, but, that was no excuse in my opinion. About a week later, she and her bf came visiting and I was cool with her. Close to the end of their visit, she called me aside and apologized for having offended me. She said “you know where I’m from and how ignorant I am about such things” .Of course I willingly forgave her and when I look back now, I find her distress and misyarns really funny.

“Elite”

Now, people like C.K.'s sister, who thinks she belongs to the crème de la crème and who still finds it okay to discuss race and colour condescendingly at every diner party in other to show how open they are, I have no excuse for them. C.K. says, they are not racist, see how they opened their home to you, they are just very open people, blah, blah- don’t take it like they are racist. One evening, this sister really overdid things in the presence of her other sister visiting from Canada. And at the same dinner, a childhood friend of theirs (in her forties) said in my presence that “we have always called black people Negroes, and I don’t see why we need to change now, after all, whether I call them black or coloured or Negroes, I still mean the same thing. Now, in German, the word for Negro is Neger, so you can see how a black person might find that offensive. The next day, his elder sister came to my house and apologized for her sister’s behaviour saying that the problem is with her not with me, as in she has always lived in this town and is unexposed to the outside world and that it was unacceptable (this sister had made her own blunder in the past though, more about that some other time). I think she must have had a talk with her sister, because there has been no recurrence since then. Although it could also have to do with the fact that I go there less frequently. Yet my darling C.K. still defended her behaviour. That occasion really made me see him in a different light. Even though he is ashamed of their behaviour (he admitted once, very long ago to being ashamed of his sister’s behaviour), he still feels the need to defend them. So basically, now, I’m very sensitive and too proud and always take things wrongly. See me see trouble o. I am the one who has been wronged, but am the one who gets the blame. So in all these narratives, does anyone out there think I’m overly sensitive?

Two killed in Niger Delta attack

2007-01-17T00:29:00.000Z

According to the BBC, a Nigerian and a Dutch national have been killed and several others wounded in a gun battle in the Niger Delta. Coming barely a day after several traditional rulers and other civilian were killed, this is not good at all. The situation has gotten out of hand, and the "rulers" need to know that something has to be done, and very quickly too, to prevent an all out civil war. It is not enough to promise this and that anymore. In fact, I fear any action might be too late to prevent the almost predictable end to all these occurences. In fact the situation is already worse than in many countries where fighting has been going on for decades.
Nigeria is already up there next to Iraq on the list of places no one wants to go, even to work, in spite of the fact that the salary offers are more than one can imagine. If we are realistic, we know we are on our own if things get to an official war(as opposed what is going on now, which has not been officially declared a war). No military aid(they are all occupied in the middle east, besides nobody is interested in any country south of the Sahara if its not SA ), neither will anyone rush to give financial or food aid. I shudder at the mental images.

Like I said in a previous post, the cause is a just one, but it seems like the fighters are not men of principle.

Yahoo boys

2007-01-16T21:23:00.000Z

The term “Yahoo boys” was one which I recently came across on the internet. I had vaguely wondered “why Yahoo!?”. Why not Hotmail guys or My Space guys. Now I think I know why.

I have used Yahoo! mail for years and years. When other people considered Hotmail to be the best (free) web-mail service available, I was overwhelmed by the Spam. Seeing that all my old mails were wiped out all because I did not log in once in several months, I guess I made the right choice to stick to Yahoo!.
Anyway, while exploring the new Yahoo! website, I came across Yahoo 360, which is the equivalent of Msn spaces. Yahoo 360 is supposed to be a tool for posting pictures, keeping a blog etc.
Just for fun, I decided to search for Nigerian bloggers since I am having fun on Blogger and I thought the blogs would be similar on Y!360. Big error.
Mixture of pidgin and English from supposed graduates, most of whom are seeking ladies in the USA or Canada, “sexy” pictures from girls and guys.

It seems amazing the number of people on Y!360 whose dad or mum is "Nigeria" and the other parent is "USA", and they live in Nigeria due to the death of one parent or the other. Why would one need to put so much info in a three-line profile? One guy claims to be a pastor looking for missionaries to come to Nigeria, West Africa. Like there are not enough people in Nigeria who can and are doing missionary work. Of course there are a few authentic bloggers, but they are overwhelmed by the large numbers of .....Y! boys and girls.
Most of the authentic people do not have too much information about themselves (or their relationship to God) on their pages.

One page came up which was owned by a middle aged American. According to him, he just moved back to the states after 13 ½ years working in the oil industry in Nigeria. Here’s a quote taken from his page:

"A simple way to take measure of a country is to look at how many want in... and how many want to get out! Tony Blair"

Guess which country he was referring to with this quote.

From my diary

2007-01-12T19:38:00.000Z

Friends vs. God

After Months of pain and regret,
You finally find someone who makes you really laugh aloud again
The pain flees, the loneliness is gone.
But only for a season, till you realise that:
Only God can truly heal.

Life is a paradox that never ceases to amaze me.
If only I can find a "soulmate" , I think all my troubles will be diminished;
How shortsighted that I fail to realise that
New friends sometimes bring new troubles, that:
Only God can truly heal.

I'm so excited, I'm so busy,
Theres' dozens of activities all around:
Meeting new people, doing fun things.
Was it really me who was so lonely just months ago?
Now I'm having the time of my life and fail to remember that:
Only God can truly heal.

I put my trust in men like me.
In friends who care and others who don't care so much,
And then they fail and cause me despair,
I withdraw into myself start to grieve again and
All because I fail to realise that:
Only God can truly heal.

So now I'm trying to put my life in perspective,
to remember that friends are people too,
to love myself like I never used to,
to unwind, to relax, to always remember that:
Only God can truly heal.

From my diary entry for18/08/03

4 things

2007-01-11T20:32:00.000Z

A happy 2007 to everyone.

I've been tagged by April, so brace yourselves

4 Jobs I've had my life
1.English Teacher
2. Salesgirl
3.Sunday school teacher(that was a volunteer job)
4. Process Engineer

4 Jobs I wish I had
1.Air hostess
2.Web designer
3. Lawyer - I have been told times without number, that the way I can argue I would make a great lawyer
4. America's next Model

4 Muvees I could watch again and again
1. Something's gotta give
2. Amelie
3.Bend it like Beckam
4.Dirty pretty things

4 Cities I've lived in
1.Makurdi (Nigeria)
2. London(UK)
3. Lagos (Nigeria)
4. Moscow(Russia)

4 TV shows I love(d) to watch 1
1.Murder She Wrote
2.Comedy Central's The Daily Show
3.Girlfriends
4. Kukli(a political satire on Russian TV)

4 Places I've travelled to 2
1.Strasbourg, France
2.Antalya, Turkey
3.Volgograd(Stalingrad), Russia
4.Canterbury, UK

4 Websites I visit daily
1.BBC news
2.New York times
3.Salon dot com
4.Blogger 3

4 Favourite dishes
1.Lamb Shakri Korma
2.Pounded Yam and Egusi soup
3. Salmon Nigiri
4. Russian blini and red caviar

4 things I won't eat
1.Cuisees de grenouilles (frogs legs)
2.Blutwurst
3.Anything that is expired, even by half a second
4.Japanese food in Holland 4

4 Things I'd love to eat right now
1.Beans and Plantain
2.Lamb suya
3.Sea bass filet with potatoes
4. Fried rice like my mum makes it

4 things in my bedroom
1.Loads of books
2.A bed
3.My teddy bear
4.Candles

4 things I wish I had in my bedroom
1.A masseuse
2.Thierry Henri
3. A robot 5
4.More space

4 things I'm wearing right now
1. An old jumper
2.My four leaf clover earrings
3. A weave
4. Erm, a blanket

1 place I'd rather be right now
The English Lake district, and preferably, it would be late summer right now too!!!

1 fictional place I'd rather be right now
7th Heaven of delight

4 people I'd love to have dinner with
1. Nelson Mandela
2. Tai Solarin
3. Elena Hanga
4. Will Smith

4 things I'm thinking right now
1. This is interesting, I'm almost getting to know myself better
2. Who the heck am I going to tag, I bet almost everyone's done one of these
3. Thank God tomorrow is Friday
4. I really should get myself that robot, mmmmm

4 of my favourite things 6
1.My family (even if I don't remember it sometimes) 7
2. Candles, scented and otherwise
3.Teddy bears 8
4.Gosple music, like songs from Graham Kendrick, Don Moen etc

4 people I tag 9
Chxta
Baba-alaye(boy, am I looking forward to reading what he'll write)
Olawunmi
Naijablog

General Knowledge

1. I almost never watch TV nowadays. One more thing you know about me.
2. My middle name is world traveller
3. Okay, I admit it, " My name is Marin, and I'm a bloggerholic"
4. Ever again. Did it twice against my better judgement.
5. To fetch and bring for me.
6. When the dog bites
when the bee stings,
whenI'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favourite things
and then I don't feel so oo saad
7. Note to myself: Tell the people I love how much I care over and over again
8. I like traditional teddy bears(preferably a Steiff- I like betta things;), not those ugly stuffed toys in a million different colours. An new friend once gave me a stuffed green crocodile with yellow and light green patches. Ugh.
9. I bet at least one of these people has already done this before!

Blood Oil

2007-01-11T19:47:00.000Z

Reading the article titled Blood Oil on Vanity Fair brought a bitter taste to my mouth. For anyone with a conscience will be quick to admit that the cause of the Niger deltans is a just one. It is often said that Nigeria is such a rich country that no Nigerian should live in poverty. I agree - especially not the Niger deltans from whose land no end of foreigners and unscrupulous Nigerians have/are feeding fat. Yet I disagree with the way in which they are waging their battle.
Kidnapping foreigners is not the way to go in my opinion. Granted, a lot of foreigners come and strutt their stuff, doing the work that another Nigerian could do, earning ten times as much while living a pampered life with driver, cook, housemaids etc, only to come back to Europe and start complaining how terrible it is there etc, like someone forced them to go, and like they were not paid a minor fortune.
That is beside the point right now because like the Yoruba say, ejo o kii se ejo wan(its not their fault).
Its not their fault that we have such a corrupt ruling class. If your own people treat you like dirt, its a bit too much to expect better from outsiders. Driving away the oil companies will only cause problems for the common man. Irrespective of what part of Nigeria they come from, the average person is suffering. Instead of attacking oil facilities and kidnapping foreigners, if I were MEND, I would attack the unscrupulous politicians, people who get millions in budget allocations like Odili without making a difference to the lives of their people deserve to be punished more than foreigners who are just trying to earn a living. President, Vice-President, Govenors, Senators, local government, chairmen, councillors etc are all waxing rich and walking away without being held to account. If a war should break out in the Niger Delta, they all have homes abroad to move to, only the poor people will be left to suffer.
It is time to start to terrorise the ruling class, to make their lives a living hell, to go out and get them in their comfort zones in Abuja, Lagos, Kaduna, Ota etc. People like Odili should be held to account. Instead of campaigning for the release of Alams, its time to ask him with one voice what he did with all that allocation to Bayelsa state. How come Bayelsa state is supposed to be one of the richest in the nation (at least in terms of allocation vs. population)and yet, nothing can be shown for almost 8 years of democracy in that state.
The only way that things can change is to start to hold our "leaders" to account, to show them that the consequences of heartless corruption are terrible. If the oil companies leave now (and inspite of all their investments, if things continue this way, its only a matter of time) only the poor people will suffer. Even the small amount of money which has trickled down from time to time will stop to.

The cause of the Niger delta people is a worthy one and it would be sad if it is hijacked by people who want to use this as their own get rich quick scheme, because such people will leave the people of the Niger Delta even more miserable than they met them.

We need a drastic change in Nigeria, if not Dafur will be child's play compared to what will happen.

Ode to my diary

2006-12-31T13:28:00.000Z

I have kept a diary on and off for the greater part of my life. It has helped me through times when I was down, in its pages are recorded my triumphs, despairs, hopes and plans. It has followed me through death in the family, new love, heart break and life changing moves. It has calmed me down like no anti-depressant ever could(not like I've ever tried anti depressants, a diary is way cheaper!).
Here is a poem from my diary entry for 14/08/2003 in which I tell how I feel about my diary.

Ode to my diary

Darling diary, best companion
At least for those without a shrink.
It can't be snide, it won't complain,
But still it has the same effect and
For a fraction of the cost at that!!!

ATO, 18/08/2003

Schicksal-Fate

2006-12-28T22:46:00.000Z

The moment I first set eyes on him,
I knew he was the one for me.
He whispered sweet nothings to me,
brought me flowers every other day
and beads to adorn my graceful neck.
I had visions of a wonderful future with him.
We would have children together,
He would cherish me and be my Prince.

Many years down the line,
I smile a bitter smile, because
my romantic dreams turned out a mirage.
They have become nightmares,
before my very eyes.

He slaps me around and tells me I am no good.
He rapes me every time he is drunk, which is often,
and tells me I’m lucky to have him.
A useless piece of shit like me deserves no better.

I cannot bear to look at myself in the mirror,
I have become so haggard,
He makes me feel like dirt, and I wonder why,
why do I stay with him?
God hates divorce, I justify.
It is my fate in life, my destiny,
God knows best.

My friends are deserting me,
after years of telling me to stop taking shit from him.
“You deserve more than this" they counselled.
"You need to stand up for your rights,
for your sake and for your children.”

I tell them, “ who will take me if I leave him?”
Look how unattractive and haggard I am,
I have no job, no chance of survival without him.”
I have to stick with him, he is my fate.

They force me to look at pictures
I would rather never see again.
Of myself as a beautiful young woman,
the toast of the land,
for whose hand all the men were vying.
Alas, that is no longer real to me.
I can hardly believe there was a time like that.

I have now become a by-word,
People shake their heads in pity when they see me pass.
“God forbid that your fate turns out like that of…..”
is the standard prayer for new brides.

I have no control over my children,
I think my 20 year old is a yahoo boy,
and my Precious is somewhere in Italy…..
The little ones tell me “Mummy, you’re useless.”
“ Please don’t follow us into town.”
“ We don’t want people to know you are our mother.”

I know that I deserve what is happening to me.
….don’t I?
I know that there is nothing I can do about it.
Or is there?

My name is Nigeria.

Merry Christmas

2006-12-25T15:09:00.000Z

would like

to wish you all a

very Merry Christmas and

a Happy New Year in advance!!!!

Warm
Regards!

A reminder about life's fleetingness

2006-12-21T21:50:00.000Z

Reading about the death of Saparmurat Niyazov causes me to dwell once again on the fleetingness of our human existence. Good or evil, we will all end up the same way, even those who think they are invincible like this man. Since death is the only certainty in our lives, why do people misuse their short time on earth?

I remember the first time I heard about Saparmurat Niyazov, the self named Turkmenbashi(Father of the Turkmeni) of Turkmenistan on Russia's NTV station, I was shocked into bursting out in laughter.What else can one do but laugh about someone who renamed the names and days of the week after himself and his family members, who made it a crime to wear a beard and who imposed a fee of thousands of dollars on any non Turkmeni who wanted to marry a woman from Turkmenistan. You can read more about his absurd reign in this Sunday Times Article.

Truly the evil that men do does live after them. IBB, take note.

Tis the season for giving.......

2006-12-21T20:55:00.000Z

Tomorrow will be the last working day of 2006 for me. I've been looking forward to this day for months. God knows I need the rest.
I'm also looking forward to being one of the few people at work tomorrow, everyone has been in a chatty mood the whole week and it has been hard getting anything done.

Someone brought some cakes to work yesterday and everyone gathered in his office, steaming mugs of coffee in hand. As we chatted, we somehow got to the topic of Christmas presents. Most of my colleagues are men, and listening to them and mentally comparing them with my male friends and family members, I decided that the following types of men exist:

Type A- its probably a new relationship, or marriage and he is still very in love; this is your time, enjoy it. You'll get romantic gifts and well prepared surprises. Be sure to encourage him by also being innovative in your giving. Don't damp his enthusiasm by giving him a pair of boxers or a book every birthday or Christmas.

Type B- you have been married or going out for several years now and he has learnt by trial or error that perfumes and cosmetics are a no go area - you didn't appreciate that jasmine smelling poison(a.k.a. oriental perfume) he got you two years ago and could barely hide your disappointment over the purple lipstick he thought you were sure to love. So you get the topaz stone you liked(the first present you appreciated) in every form it can be glued - as necklaces, headties, glasses case.........you name it, for every birthday or Christmas until you feel like screaming. Or alternatively presents that cannot go wrong, like a gift certificate from Amazon.

Type C - doesn't think about Christmas gifts until 24th December. Then he runs around the high street wild-eyed like he has just been bitten by a rabid dog, desperate to get a present at the last minute, any present. So you get presents like a green and blue bag(you once mentioned that you liked mixing colours) or red eye pencil ( you are black) with a sheepish grin when you open the gift with one eyebrow raised and " I thought I would encourage you to explore your unknown depths".

Type D - he is practically minded, so be prepared to get all the household items that other people take for granted as presents. A blender for your birthday, an iron for christmas.......you get the point.

A, B, C or D, don't we just love our men???

A stroke of GOODLUCK for Yar’adua, same same for Nigeria

2006-12-18T18:25:00.000Z

After numbly following the events of last weekend- namely the PDP presidential primaries and subsequent naming of the running mate, I realize that the reality of Nigeria will not adapt itself to our desires.

While I do not know anything about Yar’adua, apart from hear’ say, and all I know about Goodluck is that his wife was detained for money “laundry”, the mere fact that such relatively obscure people can win the ticket of the ruling party in a country where we all know that personality-cult rules the day shows that something is amiss.

My problem with the duo is however not that they are obscure, or that Yar'adua is Northern or in failing health, or even with the Jonathan Family laundry business(Lets watch and see if EFCC will let them be now that Oga has been annointed by feedeefee). What bothers me is the attempt to dramatise an obviously undemocratic process in order to present it as free, fair and transparent. Yeye dey smell. This must be a bitter lesson for people like Duke, reiterating once more the fact that "he who dines with the devil must have a very long spoon".

That said, its’ not over until its over. It is up to whatever credible parties there are(I refuse to name names, by their fruits we shall know them) to field credible candidates, and up to Nigerians to refuse to be imposed on. United we stand, divided we fall. I fear though that it is only when personal interests are at stake that we are ever stirred out of the lethargy that has fallen on us collectively like a babalawo’s jinx!

Until we, as Nigerians get up and say enough is enough. Until we realize that we deserve much, much, much more than we are getting, until we get to the point of no return, when we are prepared to die for what we believe in- indeed until we believe in anything other than in our personal comfort- we will continue to be led by our noses.

On another note, some people claimed that Goodluck was named running mate in order to pacify MEND- obviously MEND is not as easily satisfied as some thought as the latest blasts show. Or is MEND just being used as an excuse for the lame-duck pair that PDP will attempt to foist on us come May 2007?

I can understand the feelings of those who say the best way out would be for the country to break up, but I am certain that while such a move might lead to peace and progress in some parts of the country, it would lead mainlyto violence and destruction on an unprecedented scale, even for Africa.

The younger generation of Nigerians needs to put tribal, class and religious affiliations aside and look for a way forward together. We need to violently yank apart the string that the puppeteers are using to conduct this puppet theatre that Nigeria has become(or am I kidding myself and it was always so?).
It might not be perfect, but we have to work with what we have. Or give up and look for another homeland. Alas, while you might succeed in getting another Pali, there will never be any place quite like home.

GOV. DONALD DUKE WITHDRAWS FROM THE PRESIDENTIAL RACE

2006-12-15T22:22:00.000Z

Mmm, out of the blues, Donald Duke, the man who has wowed hearts and rekindled hope in Nigeria withdraws from the PDP primaries just hours after posting this on his blog- Eyes on the ball. IMO, something stinks here, and it sure ain't roses.......

My first love

2006-12-11T18:35:00.000Z

The first time I set eyes on him, my heart did the jitterbug. I was at the home of my friend Tina, who was my roommate in UI’s Idia hall, during one of those long forced vacations, also known as strikes.

I was nearly eighteen, even stricter with myself than my parents had brought me up to be, thanks to my faithful attendance of the Redeemed church a few streets away from us, and a fellowship with like-minded youth in UI. I guess I must have been quite pretty, looking back, but as unbelievable as it sounds, at that time, a seventeen year old, I truly cared more about inward than outwards appearance. That is sadly not really the case with me anymore, lol.
So anyway, after chasing tons of boys away with a stern look and a steely “is that what your parents sent you here to do, to be chasing girls?”, I set eyes on Edward and knew at once that he was the guy for me. He was a very cool, handsome guy who worked as a DJ on Ray power FM next to his studies in Architecture in UI, every girl's dream-guy, my heart had betrayed my spirit. I was not happy about how I felt, I was not happy about it at all.

We exchanged pleasantries, and he was obviously as intrigued by me as I was by him, although I did not realize it at that time. When he left about 20 minutes later, we said see you around, and I knew that was the end of it. Guys like him did not fall for conservative born-again girls like me. And even if they did, I was not about to be unequally yoked with a dj. What would my friends and fellowship members say? Tina, who at that time was not born-again, smiled mischievously and said, "I have never seen Ed show so much interest in a girl before". Inwardly, my heart did a flip and I would have given anything for her observation to be true. But, I had not been born-again for years for nothing. I knew how to cast down imaginations, and that’s exactly what I did. To Tina, I said, “warrever, don’t such guys go around showing interest in every girl they meet?”. A dj, God forbid bad thing. I was holding out for my “spiri” brother who would guard my virginity even more jealously than even I, not some dj, who probably slept around just for fun.

A few days later, I returned to my home in another city and caught up in my normal affairs, tried to forget this guy. But it was difficult. I, who had before then lived for Don Moen, Ron Kenoly and co, and spurned had contemporary music as “wordly”, started to listen to Edwards programme on Raypower FM !!! My parents had given me a radio cassette player for my 15th (I think) birthday and every Monday and Friday after I met Edward, it was tuned to Raypower during the times when his show was on. I heard songs I had never heard before, by Babyface, Teddy Pendagrass etc. How my mother teased me. I guess deep inside she was grateful that I started to show some signs of normalcy. Every parent is happy to have a responsible and obedient child, but I went off the deep end, so much so that they could not believe I wasn’t hiding stuff from them.

When I stayed too long at fellowship, my father beat me, because he was sure I had been out with some boys. I also remember vividly, when one of the overzealous brothers in the lord decided to visit me at home, since I had not attended a certain new fellowship(I did not attend because there were no adults around and I was sure my parents would not approve). My father slapped me so hard, that I carried the imprint of his fingers on my face around for about three days. Many times I considered going bad, just to justify the constant beatings I got. Now, in retrospect, I wonder why the disbelief of my father was so great. Was he messing around with girls my age or what? Because he was so sure I was messing around.

Anyway, I am digressing from my story. About three months after I met Edward, the ASUU strike was called off and it was back to Ibadan for me. I wondered briefly if I would see him again, but as the stress of sharing a room with 8 others, and attending lectures with 500 people set in, I forgot all about my crush. Until I saw him again, about a month later. I had been visiting a friend at Queen’s Hall, when I saw him talking to this beautiful girl in front of the entrance. Again, my heart beat faster when I saw him, but, then I knew for sure that a guy like him could never be interested in a girl like me. After all, I reasoned, even if an unbeliever liked you, he was only after one thing, and that one thing, I could not give him.

So began my game of hide and seek on UI campus. It was a bizarre game, because he had no idea I was avoiding him. I knew that for the first time in my almost eighteen years, I was in serious danger of being controlled by my feelings for another person, instead of my very rational mind. I remember one night when Folusho, another roommate of mine had begged me into going to Trenchard hall with her. There had been a Lagbaja show in UI that day, and she hope to meet up with a guy she liked afterwards. I went with her, albeit disapprovingly. While she met up with her friend, I took a look around, and whom should I catch a glimpse of, but Ed. He was seeing another girl off to Queens. I quickly turned away, pretended like I did not know him, and scuttled off to a dark corner, under the shadow of the almond trees, where he could not see me. How it makes me laugh to remember.

This avoidance game ended about six months later, when Tina came to visit me in Idia(she had since moved to a flat off campus). She then told me Ed had been wondering why he had not seen me since we met at her place. It turned out he was waiting outside Idia Hall for her to come out with me - guys were not allowed in after 9pm(or was it 11pm? hey you Uites out there please correct me, I don forget lol). I walked outside with her, my heart drumming a beat in my ears. “Where have you been hiding?, he asked”. Nowhere, have just been so busy, you know us MBBS people dwell in another world, I answered jokingly”. As he wrangled a date with me by force, Tina stood by grinning from ear to ear with an I-told-you-so look in her eyes.
He had asked me out to have some chicken and chips with him at SUB on a day that coincided with the day I normally had fellowship. For several days afterwards, I struggled inside myself about missing fellowship or not, in the end, I decided for fellowship. Right now, I marvel at the self-control of my 17-year-old self. I have to sadly admit that my 30-year-old self does not possess such self-control.

So sha, I went to my fellowship, where I spent most of my time banishing thoughts of him from my mind so I could pray. It didn’t work too well is all I can say. I got back to my room to find a note from him. He had been and had waited and gisted with my roommates. Four of them had been in at the time and they had all liked him so much. Mercy, my bubbling roommate scolded me for having bailed out on a date with such a fine guy. “Marin, you and this your fellowship, this guy is a really nice guy, don’t miss such a cool guy because of your born again nonsense o”.

Two days later, when I could no longer stand thoughts of him creeping up at odd moments, like when I was dissecting the thigh of God-only-knows-whose cadaver in anatomy, I decided to take the bull by the horns and pay him a visit in his room at Indy. If he was not there, I could always visit one of the brothers from fellowship or something. I got to his room and found that he was out. Disappointed, I decided to go back to my room, but for some reason, took a totally odd route. Normally when walking from Indy to Idia, it was easier to go via Zik Hall, not the PG Hall route that I had taken. I met him on the way. This was the first occurrence of what we liked to think of as evidence that our hearts communicated with each other. He had been going out with his friends, when all of a sudden he felt like returning to Indy. He seemed very glad to meet me, although he was disappointed that I had stood him up.

I apologized for having missed our appointment due to fellowship, went back to his room with him, we had a nice chat and he introduced me to his roommates. After that day, he visited me quite often, we went for walks, sat in front of the lake at the science lecture hall at sunset, sat talking till late on the seats in the Idia Hall bus stop, watching the cotton club girls being dropped up by their sugar daddies etc, but we officially started dating the following Valentine’s day, when I returned from a February 14th special at fellowship to find two lovely hand made cards, from him. There was a guy who made the loveliest cards in UI at that time. I had admired so many of his cards, because he was in the same faculty with me and I saw his work quite often. This would be the first and last time I got any of those cards. They were really lovely. I still have them now, and anytime I take a trip down memory’s lane and look over all my cards, the same emotions that surged through my breast that February so many years ago still surge over and over again.
That is the magic of first love.

What is love?

2006-12-03T20:34:00.000Z

What is love?

Is it telling someone you care about something you know they'll dislike, something that could cause a quarrel between you and them or even put an end to your relationship because you know that it is important that they know about it and clean up their act?

Or is it keeping quiet about volatile issues because you put yourself in their shoes and try to make excuses for them and to understand why they are the way they are and do what they do?

What is love?

Microsoft Haiku

2006-12-01T23:05:00.000Z

I received this as a fowarded message zillions of years ago.

In Japan, they have replaced the impersonal and unhelpful Microsoft Error messages with Haiku poetry messages.

Haiku poetry has strict Construction rules: Each poem has only 17 syllables; 5 syllables in the first, 7 in the second, 5 in the third. They are used to communicate a timeless message, often achieving a wistful, yearning and powerful insight through extreme brevity.

Here are 16 actual error messages from Japan. Below, the essence of Zen.

Your file was so big.
It might be very useful.
But now it is gone.

You step in the stream,
But the water has moved on.
This page is not here.

The Web site you seek .
Cannot be located, but
Countless more exist

Out of memory
We wish to hold the whole sky,
. But we never will.

Chaos reigns within.
Reflect, repent, and reboot.
Order shall return.

Having been erased,
The document you're seeking
Must now be retyped.

Program aborting:
Close all that you have worked on. .
You ask far too much.

Serious error.
All shortcuts have disappeared
Screen. Mind. Both are blank….

Windows NT crashed.
I am the Blue Screen of Death.
No one hears your screams.

Yesterday it worked.
Today it is not working.
Windows is like that.

First snow, then silence.
This thousand-dollar screen dies
So beautifully.

With searching comes loss
And the presence of absence:
"My Novel" not found.

The Tao that is seen
Is not the true Tao until
You bring fresh toner.

Stay the patient course.
Of little worth is your ire.
The network is down.

A crash reduces
Your expensive computer
To a simple stone.

Three things are certain:
Death, taxes and lost data.
Guess which has occurred

2006-12-01T22:55:00.000Z

Governor Duke: Saint or Sinner

2006-11-27T23:51:00.000Z

Yesterday evening, as I browsed the web trying to find out even more information about Donald Duke (about whom I have become very enthusiastic) and his much acclaimed achievements in CRS, I came upon an article with the above title. The article, which you can read Here, though quite long-winded, made some very serious allegations, which if half of them are true, would prove that a friend of mine was right in saying that the “new” generation of politicians is even worse than the older generation.
With respect to today's post on Chxta’s blog, I definitely agree with him that DD needs to start answering some tough questions, if he is to be considered a credible candidate.While I am not condemning him before he is proven guilty, these are really serious accusations, which require honest answers. If these allegations are true, then such a suave politician who though committing such violations, manages to at the same time almost effortlessly pull off a mass hypnosis/deception of Nigerians is a dangerous person indeed.
Not that it isn’t easy to deceive us, seeing how hungry we are for good news from Nigeria. It says a lot about our desperation for good governance as Nigerians, when we say things like “even if he steals, at least he is still doing something”, which was the conclusion a friend and I came to over the weekend. After all, we rationalized, politicians all over the world steal public funds. The difference is that in other countries, they also take care of the welfare of their citizens.
Ever since I read about the programs initiated by DD, I have been half rejoicing for the people of Cross Rivers State, half sad that other State governors do not seem selfless enough to have been spurred to performing better by what DD has “done” in his state. One of the things that have kept me optimistic about the ongoing political drama in Nigeria has been the fact that younger candidates with unblemished pasts, like Pat Utomi and DD are taking part in the whole process. I believe that even if they do not win elections, they have raised the bar, and will force other politicians to aspire for better things, since the public will see that there are other, better possibilities. If these “paragons” also turn out to be tainted, then no hope for us o. That would explain why people like Babangida have the audacity to even think about contesting the presidential elections.
Meanwhile, I feel chastised by my overboard enthusiasm about DD on the grounds of hearsay alone (or should I say "see-read", since most of my information has come from the internet)……

He needs to answer some tough questions, and soon too, whether or not he wins the primaries.

Am Arsch der Welt!

2006-11-25T05:01:00.000Z

Am Arsch der Welt! Am Arsch der Welt! Am Arsch der Welt! Now that I've repeated that several times over, I feel so much better. Whew! One of the advantages of knowing several languages is that it has a multiplying effect on your ability to express yourself. Since every language has its limitations, knowing another language gives one expressions for emotions you can't vocally express in your own language. MBH(my better half) says letting loose vocally can save one hours of shrink time. I agree in toto.
So to cut the story short, yesterday night peacefully trying to fly to London, I found myself stuck am Arsch der Welt - means literarily in German - at the world's arse! When I decided to spend several days in London, three weeks ago, and chose to fly with Ryanair from Düsseldorf, little did I know that Düsseldorf airport, for Ryanair, meant Niederlein "Airport", near Weeze, which is about 100km from Düsseldorf. Not only did I not know where this airport was, practically no one else did. Finally, I found ticket desk worker who said - go to Düsseldorf train station and get a bus from there. I got to Düsseldorf main train station, only to find that the bus journey took almost 2 hrs, I would in fact have to take another train. Since the train journey lasted over one hour, and I had barely 2 hrs, I decided instead to take a taxi. We ended up travelling at break-neck speed - 160 km/hr I kid you not- in the rain o!!! Growing up in Nigeria where the roads are so bad, anything faster than 120 km/hr has me reciting “yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil….” ati be be lo. Finally, we got to the airport about 20 mins before the flight left, and I paid well over a hundred euros for this attempt to visit baba God before my time. To cut the long story short, I was not let on the flight and the check-in desk lady was so rude, I turned blue-black from anger. I was unable to get a refund. Changing my booking would have cost 75 €. The only good part of this Arsch der Welt airport was that booking the next available flight which was for the next morning only cost 30€, because, I believe no one in their right mind would want to fly from this location, except for people who actually come from Weeze. Luckily the information desk lady was sympathetic, and helped me find a room for the night at "Kevin's Pub"! Kevin is an Englishman who is married to a Weezian(don't know if they are called that), who runs a bed and breakfast. I spent my night in Kevin's Pub brooding over all the wrongs Ryanair had dealt me. The Info-Desk lady also shared with me the fact that this happens quite often.
All I can take comfort in right now is the fact that I share a unique if bizarre bond with all the other people who through a stressful lesson from Ryanair now know where Weeze is. I feel considerably wiser, as well as being several hundred euros poorer for the experience. Anyway, right now, I am waiting to board the plane and sincerely hoping that the rest of my trip will not be as stressful as the last 14 hours.

The audacity of hope

2006-11-13T19:52:00.000Z

The audacity of hope - that is the title of Sen. Barack Obama's new book. It was also the title of his keynote address at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, when he was contesting the race for the Senate of the United States.
This phrase resonated with me the first time I heard it, and it has kept on ringing in my mind constantly in the last few months due to the news coming out of Nigeria and the changes occurring there.

Things are not perfect - air crashes are two for ten kobo, unlawful impeachments are the order of the day, and more and more people go to bed hungry with every new night. For every gain that has been made since Obasanjo became president, 10 other things are still where they were or even worse. But every time I read about people like Dora Akunyili, Ngozi Okonjo Iweala, Donald Duke; about the changes that are taking place, that we are almost debt free, about the success stories, about courageous people daring to speak out, about people returning home to contribute their own quota, or doing their bit from the Diaspora, I dare to hope.

I feel optimism like I have not felt in years, I feel like things are finally going to change. I try to see the positive side of every story I hear. Sometimes, it is easy, like the Obasanjo and Atiku feud. My positive spin on that is that they will expose each other and rid our society of themselves at one go. Good riddance to useless rubbish. Or take Obasanjo for instance – I do not admire him at all, and I think he has no proper understanding of what democracy is. I have to give the devil his due though, and acknowledge the fact that he has surrounded himself with people who care and who are making a difference, irrespective of ethnicity (in fact, most of the inept members of the Obasanjo government are Yoruba, e.g Aborishade). El rufai and NOI, Akunyili, Soludo and Ribadu are not your typical political praise singers. They are making a difference in their own way, and it is a visible way. I tell myself, “It is easier to destroy than to rebuild”. “The long time it is taking to get things back up is due to the total decay that was inherited by this government”, I try to convince myself.
Even with this audacious optimism, I suffer setbacks. It is impossible to put a positive spin on things like plane crashes and stories of senseless loss of life, political assassinations and tales of money “laundry”, all of which is due to irresponsible leadership and a deeply ingrained corruption culture.

The wise one Solomon said "Hope deferred makes the heart sick" in Proverbs 13:12, so I know that this rekindled hope might be my undoing- if it is deferred for the umpteenth time, maybe my heart will become sick. But right now, I am going to keep on hoping, hoping that at last a new day has come for my beloved country. I am going to be audacious in my hope, because looking at the current reality on ground in Nigeria that is the only type of hope I can have at this time.

BBC Article- The politics of corruption

2006-11-12T00:05:00.000Z

Ehm, am I the only one who saw an article titled "The politics of corruption" by Alex Last on the BBC News website? The first line of the article went something like " It is common knowledge that Nigeria is one of the most corrupt countries in the world" or something of that nature, and it had a big picture of Obj. I started reading it at around 10pm(GMT+1), but got distracted by a call. When I tried to access the page again I could not find it. Could it be that the BEEB was afraid of controversy decided to remove the article? They seem to be doing that a lot lately.....

How to put your children to good use

2006-11-07T20:53:00.000Z

Xenophobia in Russia

2006-11-06T11:04:00.000Z

Reading about racially motivated attacks in Moscow brings back memories, memories I would rather permanently delete.

The year was 2001; I was in a Taganskaya Krasnopresenskaya line train in Moscow. It was 31st of December, in the middle of winter and everyone was in a lively mood due to the season. As usual in Moscow, the times when everyone is in a good mood fueled by Spirits are the times when minorities like me needed to be most alert. Okay, you always need to be alert in Moscow especially if you stand out, but it is of even more importance when there is celebration or mourning going on. Russians remind me of Africans, they are extremely intense. That can be a good thing if they like you, but it is deadly if for some reason they do not. So anyway, on this cold winter evening in 2001 I sat in a corner of the wagon, reading my book and trying to disappear in the background as much as is possible for a black person surrounded by a sea of Drunken Slavics. The next thing I knew, there was a hand laid roughly on my knee. I jerked my head up in surprise and indignation. As bad as it was in Russia, up till then, I had never been physically assaulted before. "Shto takoe?"(What is this?) I asked angrily. I got up from my seat and decided to leave the train before something undesirable happened. I did not want to end the year with a brawl on the Metro. Then, out of anger over the injustice of it all, I decided to return to my seat. After all, it would not be the first time I had been racially abused and I decided to sit it through since I still had a few more stations to go. As I got back to my sit, this ugly Slavic specimen forcibly pushed me down in my seat, so that he and his son could take a picture with me. I got angry and swung my very dainty handbag at him. The next thing I knew, he had given me a dirty slap. Nobody blinked an eye, everyone in the crowded wagon kept silent and watched with interest as this man, twice my size that I did not know from Adam gave me a dirty slap for daring to be angry that he forcibly took a picture of me. His wife sat opposite from me and was silent as well. I was mad, as mad as an angry bull. What made it even worse was the fact that I knew that I would not get any justice, it was no use trying. I became hysterical; I cursed him, I really cursed him, and I hope the curse sticks, like a bad odour. I finally got to my friend's place and celebrated New Year's Eve in a subdued mood with welts on the right side of my face, where he hit me. This was the only physical attack I faced in Moscow, but there had been other emotionally scarring attacks.

Nobody is safe, there is the macabre joke which was g0ing around Moscow about the Indian student who tried to avoid being beating by skinheads by shaking his head in that peculiarly Indian way and shouting ' ya ne cherni, ya ne cherni’ (I'm not black, I'm not black), as if black people were the ones who deserve to be beaten up. Anyway, he was beaten up as well, and we were all of one mind in saying that he deserved to be beaten ten times over for his racist comments. Japanese, Chinese Thai, even Russian citizens from Siberia (they look Asian) and every other person who looked remotely Asian was thoroughly beaten up, and their shops were destroyed when South Korea defeated Russia in the football World Cup of 2002. Etcetera, Etcetera, melo ni mo ma so ninu iwe kobo? (How many incidents can I recount?)

I was so traumatised, that one night several months after the physical assault of 2001 New Year's eve, I was in a tube station in London, and having heard what sounded like a group of young men laughing and talking excitedly, I turned and ran for dear life! I then saw a man going underground, and I incoherently tried to explain to him that I was afraid of being attacked by the youngsters in the underground station. He looked at me like I was a mad person. He probably thought I had just moved from Liberia or Congo or some other war torn country in Africa. He probably neither understood nor believed what I told him about Moscow and attacks and skinheads. Basically, I walked back with him into the underground station, only to find that my 'attackers' were a racially mixed group of youngsters who were just fooling around and did not even spare me a second glance. It was at this point that I knew I had to get out before I became certifiable.

I feel so sorry for all non-white foreigners in Russia. Any day could be their last. Neither at home, nor in the University,not at work place, or even at the Kremlin is one safe. Yet countries keep sending new students every year; in Nigeria, it is an opportunity for someone to prove he is helping the people. Even if the Students then get abandoned halfway through their studies. Instead of improving our own higher education system, we send our children en masse abroad to countries of the former USSR, to get scarred for life.

I feel even more sorry for all non-Slavic Russians because they have nowhere else to go, that is their country, and they face the same problems and discrimination as foreigners, even worse! After all, we foreigners could always leave. Our countries might not be paradise, but we could leave. I have Russian friends who abuse the skinheads for the attacks against foreigners, who even housed me to protect me when things go especially hot(like in April every year, when skin heads celebrate Hitler's birthday, going on a rampage of killing and maiming. Grandchildren of those who defiantly withstood Hitler). These same friends of mine at the same time talk of Caucasians (people from Chechnya, Dagestan, Tajikistan Azerbaijan etc) and Jews with such hatred that its frightening. Xenophobia is so deeply ingrained in the Russian, that its people do not even realise it sometimes.

Uncle Max

2006-11-05T21:41:00.000Z

In order to try and battle the blues, I'll write on a topic I have been meaning to write about for some time now.

I was in Abuja visiting my aunt’s family one summer while on vacation from Uni. My aunt has two daughters and a son, with the son being the youngest child. There was a subordinate of my uncles' who had been assisting my aunt with car issues due to the fact that my uncle was away on a business trip. I'll call him Max here.

Anyway, uncle Max came visiting one day when my aunt was away at work. As I returned into the sitting room with a tray of soft drinks which I had gone to bring for uncle Max, I was alarmed to see him holding first one of my female cousins, then the other and telling them to come sit on his laps, and sitting them on his privates. These were a ten and an eight year old – and you know how fast children develop these days. Their respective bums were bigger than mine, their 19-year-old cousin! Under normal circumstances, if he had wanted to show affection by hugging a child, the logical choice would have been the five-year-old boy, or at least all of them, but he ignored the little boy apart from an absent minded pat on the head. I did not feel comfortable and sort of cunningly managed to send the girls into their room to tidy up in order to get them away from this uncle Max. When my aunt got back from work, I told her about what I had observed and advised her to be careful about leaving older "uncles" around her daughters.

I am sure that after reading this story you probably think that I was a teenager with a dirty mind. Unfortunately, the reason why I felt so bothered about my observations that afternoon was because I had been the victim of attempted assault by a houseboy. In fact, I was literarily saved by the car horn. If my mother had not arrived at precisely the moment she did, I would have been disvirgined by Godwin our houseboy at eight years old. As it was, he ejaculated in my hands, destroying my innocence forever. I was too ashamed to tell my parents about it, because I thought it was my fault. We had been playing a game with my other siblings and I and Godwin, who must have been around eighteen at the time, somehow ended up together in the kitchen, away from the other kids. I cannot recollect clearly exactly what happened, except for the fact that I was left with a tiny hand full of disgusting gooey stuff as he went to open the garage door for my mother.

This experience, as well as some others which I won’t share today, is what makes me laugh derisively when people claim that such things as pedophilia do not happen in Africa. They so do!!!! It is just that parents are sometimes too busy to notice what is happening (like everywhere else around the world). Sometimes, in order to avoid a scandal, people also just decide to keep quiet. There are also cases like mine where, due to fear of strict parents, you are afraid to disclose something, which to your childish mind is wrong but which you fear you'll be blamed for. We need to wake up and realize that such things have happened in the past and continue to happen in our societies Here are just a few examples, although these are not exactly A-list news sources: a father who raped his own daughter, or this case of rape at a quranic school . Lets not even go to the ever-ongoing sexual harassment of female university students by male lecturers. Pedophilia and/or rape go on in our schools, in our places of worship, etc.

It is time to begin to speak out and to stop the business of saving face.
Rape is a crime and rapists must be punished. The very lowest on the ladder are those who defile children! Parents need to take steps to protect their children, by educating them on how to get away from potentially dangerous situations, and at the very least ensuring an atmosphere where dialogue is encouraged in the home, so that a child does not need to carry the emotional torment alone in case the child is abused in spite of all efforts to protect the child.

As for me sha, I will do my utmost to ensure that no uncle comes near any daughter of mine in my absence, if I have a daughter that is.

2006-11-05T20:39:00.000Z

Have you ever been in such a state of mind where a thousand thoughts and emotions are going through your mind which you are incapable of expressing, either vocally or in writing? Have you ever been so paralysed by the hopelessness of occurences around you that the numbness you feel is the only way you can avoid going crazy?
That is the place I'm at right now, I have one million things to say, yet am unable to detoxify my mind by expressing them. I hope this phase passes soon, because it is a strange place that I do not feel capable of dealing with. I've always been bad at vocally expressing myself, and writing has always been my escape. If I lose that escape, I see myself slowly and painfully slipping into an irreversible abyss of despair.

Wannabe Grandparents

2006-10-31T13:17:00.000Z

I was in the Hague a couple of weeks ago on an official trip and while there, I met up with a friend, A.R., whom I had not seen for several years. Since we last met, we've both gotten married, I-over two years ago, she-last December.
As we talked about mutual acquaintances and caught up on old gist, we somehow came to the issue of children and our parents. I would love to have kids eventually, but for now I am focusing on my career. A.R. on the other hand would prefer not to have children. She says she has enough nieces and nephews and it is unnecessary to bring another child into the world. She also says she feels incapable of loving a child like it should be loved. Fair enough. Although on my part I subscribe to the literal translation of the biblical injunction "be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth....". Interesting though it is to analyze the different viewpoints of different people with respect to procreation, that is not the issue I want to explore in this post. This post is about our "grandparents wannabe" parents.

As A.R. and I continued to discuss about children and family, I asked her whether her parents had raised the topic yet. It turns out that not only has she received the proprietary lecture, her mother has taken to keeping track of her period and asking her monthly how she is feeling in order to determine whether they had “struck gold” that month. This monthly interview is driving her nuts, slowly.

My case on the other hand, is subtler. First of all, when I decided I wanted to get married, to someone who was not “suitable” from the viewpoint of my family (another day’s topic), my father was sure I was pregnant. Love ko o, love ni! Like my mother used to say, nowadays love wears contact lenses. The only way they could explain the desire of CK and I to marry as fast as we wanted to, was that I had to be pregnant. Since they could not get me to admit to being preggs before we got married, there were expectations of a “premature baby”. Several months after we got married, they realized that I had not “rushed" into marriage due to an unexpected pregnancy, the hints started coming.
A year after I got married, my cousin got married, and typical naija style nine months after the wedding, she had a baby girl. As I called excitedly to congratulate her on the new addition to the family, the first thing she said to me was “ in Jesus name, yours will be next”. Of course I said amen, not bothering to explain to her that we were trying to plan our family, that I am trying to settle down career wise. It would have been of no use, it would just have reiterated the idea that is fast becoming fixed on their minds that I have been brainwashed by living too long abroad.

Recently, I had the following conversation with my father.

Daddy: Is there anything you want to talk to me about?
Me: How do you mean that?
Daddy: What are you plans with respect to starting your own family?
Me: (thinking, "he has started again") we are taking our time and I am trying to settle down in my job
Daddy: Are you using anything?

Imagine my embarrassment- discussing contraceptives with my father! And it was more like an interrogation!

Daddy: I am just asking, so I can know how to pray – is it that you are having problems conceiving… you do know that you need to stop the pill several months before getting pregnant and take your vitamins to help your body recover…

See me see trouble o!
This is the same person who sent me an E-mail after our Nigeria trip that he “was so happy to see us, and is looking forward to being a Granddad any time we are ready, no pressure at all”. Those were his exact words. Tell me how this inquisition can be reconciled with those words.

Finally, the funny conversation of a dear friend of mine with his dad on a trip home:

His Father: You are a good son to me and your wife is lovely. My only wish before I die is to see your child
My friend: Daddy, you are very lucky.
His Father: why do you say that?
My friend: Since we do not have any plans of starting a family in before five or six years time, that means you still have a long life ahead of you
His Father: aah!

I am sure his father promptly embarked on forty days prayer and fasting, because he recently told me that they are expecting their first child next year ;)

First they are obsessed with you getting married, then they want you to have children, only God know what comes after you eventually have children!!!!! I am eagerly awaiting the next installment of my friend's story, after the baby comes.
Does anyone have any similar funny experiences to share?