Friday, May 10, 2013

DUDES WHAT DO YOU WANT?

 
   You should have heard my friend, Jude, speak then. He would always go into lectures about how girls liked fronting unnecessarily. He said girls front for long and lose good men. He didn’t see the sense in it, that if you meet a guy you like and he likes you and is asking you out, what are you waiting for? Say yes before you miss out on him. The problem with girls is that they are not honest with themselves, they like stringing guys along. They’d now carry the great guys and put in the friend zone. If you see something you like, you should go for it. He’d now give you an example of a girl in his class, Ofure, whom his friend Lucas was interested in. Lucas tried hard to win Ofure over but Ofure acted uninterested. Everyone knew Lucas liked her but as the days turned into five months of trying to win Ofure, Lucas got tired. Luckily for Lucas, another girl

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

OTHER PEOPLE

You see that man and your heart skips. He treats you like a goddess. He goes out of his way for you but when it comes to people he has no reason to be kind to he becomes a monster. He treats the helps like slaves and you tell yourself, ‘it’s because they are just helps’. He treats his family badly and never keeps the promises he made to them and you tell yourself ‘well, maybe they did something to him.’ He never has a kind word to say about his colleagues from work, you see him smile at them before their faces and tears them down behind their backs; he even does same to his friends. You see it all as nothing because he treats you well. He has nothing good to say about his exes and lays the fault at their doors and you say,’ they must have really hurt him.’
  One day you run into an ex of his and without knowing who you are to him, tells you about their relationship,

Sunday, April 21, 2013

LILLIPUT




It has always been one of my favorite novels ‘Gulliver’s’ travels’. I devoured the stories in it especially the one about the little people ‘the Lilliputians’. It was a journey to a different world. I always tried imagining what I would have done if I was Gulliver. I am borrowing the term for a different expression here but not far off from its origin. It is amazing the things we think that are best for us without even stopping to consider the reasons why we feel such things are best. Most women, infact every woman has the fantasy of a tall, dark, and handsome, prince charming, possibly add rich, who falls in love with her on sight and they live happily ever after.
  Why tall, why not short? That is why most people never have good relationships because they are there for all the wrong reasons entirely. They go into it because of the physical appearance. Does the physical appearance portray what is inside? Yes, agreed, you have to like the outward appearance a bit before getting to know the person. Doesn’t love grow anymore?
  If you ask most women their criteria for a man, the first thing on the list is tall. This to me is very bad. I thought one was meant to look for those in built characters that complement us. People keep looking for the wrong packages and not the right ones.
  I decided to go do some research and hear what people had to say. Therefore, I met Temi, a student, she says her guy must be tall, she cannot imagine dating a minus size or short guy. That she will be ashamed to introduce the guy to people as her boyfriend.
Onose, said it was over her dead body, that so if the guy wants to kiss her she’ll kneel down for him, that it’s not the way it’s meant to be, it is not romantic at all and she cannot imagine it happening to her. I got that same reply from all the women I asked.
 One, Lynda, even said that her mom would kick against it seriously and would never let her marry such a guy, that their kids might carry their father’s stunted growth and she wants tall kids.
  What about those guys and women of average height and below are they not meant to be loved too or are they not capable of loving? The first quality any reasonable woman should be looking for in a guy is for a guy who loves her, understanding, compatability, trust and friendship. Things that will last and be there even after you have both grown old and ugly. However, no, we are all looking for a Denzel Washington and RMD to come sweep us off our feet.
These fine, tall brothers are also aware of how they look, if I may remind you, so don’t think the height necessarily ensures you all the good things he can also share elsewhere. What I am saying is do not look on the outside but on the inside. Nobody is perfect and compatible to just anybody. why stay there for all the wrong reasons when there’s someone willing to offer it but you refuse it because say you dey wait for prince charming. No wonder most women get married late, some never do because they’ve painted a picture of the kind of package they want on the outside, and the result is heartbreak. So ladies do keep an open mind and go for the right qualities, I beg you.
Not only the women have a hand abi share in this height debacle, the guys do too.Tunde, an Engineer says,

 'no, I can’t oh, for what? I can’t introduce her as my girlfriend but if it’s for me to collect my 10% (just have sex), I won’t mind at all'
 Henry, a student told me that there are many fishes in the ocean why that one, when I asked him, what of a girl taller than you are? He also said that he could never date a girl taller than he is. So brother, who are you going to date?
  Through this I noticed that average guys like tall girls and very tall guys; do not like girls taller than they are or of same height. So really does the height of a person matter really, shouldn’t it be an inside thing. If you are ok with the inside, why worry about the outside because in the end, it is the inside that matters.  Therefore, what do you want in your package?

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Men are from Mars,Women are from Venus

  I have been hearing that line for years. ‘men are from mars and women are from Venus’ then i thought it was another scientific discovery that proved that God didn’t create men at all, so I called it balderdash! I kept hearing it on TV, radio, etc. I developed a new thought, maybe it’s an idiom used to explain or describe the differences between men and women. I did not know how close and far off I was from the answer. I know you are wondering what are Mars and Venus; planets have to do with man?
  I got my answer the day I followed a friend who was desperately looking for a self-help book at a bookstore in Ikeja. You know-self help books treat everything from how to be a great parent, to how to be a good wife. They have everything from books in relationship, to books in psychology, cooking, handicraft and the list goes on. That was where I saw it, written in bold pink letters ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus’. I just had to buy it. I could not believe it was just a book after all. Therefore, i got it. It is written by Dr John Gray. As I read this book, everything began to make sense and I wondered where this book had been all these years. I will share some things I learnt and I know are common mistakes we all make in our relationships with you.,plus my thoughts in brackets. I hope I will not be sued for this, lols! Anyways, if you want the full details, go get your copy ,I got mine.
·     We mistakenly assume that if our partners love us they will react in certain ways; the ways we react and behave when we love someone, forgetting that men and women handle situations in a completely different manner and the other person is not YOU. (This is where we expect out partners' to be mind readers and know what we want, the way we want it or reason if it were me i would do this like this. We all are different beings ,so let up.)
·     A man tries to change a woman’s feelings when she is upset by becoming Mr. fix-it and offering solutions to her problems. He does not know that sometimes we women just want to be listened to, so, hush! Do not talk just listen.
·     A woman tries to change a man’s behaviour when he makes mistakes by becoming the home improvement committee and offering unsolicited  advice and help not knowing how critical and unloving she sounds because what he is reading from it is that you think  he doesn’t know what to do. (Don't be madam know it all, if you don't like being told you don't know how to cook, imagine how he feels when you tell him how to do stuff he should know. Let him make the mistakes, men have amazingly fragile egos.)
·     A man will want to make improvements, when he feels he is being approached as the solution to a problem rather than the problem itself.  (instead of saying 'I need to talk to you' try 'I have a problem' or 'I need your help' then introduce that thing he does you don't like diplomatically. Diplomacy goes a long way not just with strangers but your partner as well.)
·     Men are motivated and empowered when they feel needed by their women and women, when they feel cherished by their men.( you can do it yeah it is the independent woman era but that's why he is there, let him be the man. Men, let her know how much you love and appreciate her, we like to hear it, so show it,don't just say it. We feed off it)
·     A man’s deepest fear is that he is not good enough or that he is incompetent. Men need love too. ( Woman, you are not the only one that needs to hear that you are loved or have it shown to you, appreciate him and show him by words and actions that you love him, it's not just with sex. Men are human beings too. If you don't some other woman will help you out.)
·     The four magic words to support a man are; ‘It’s not your fault.’ (No matter how you just want to say it and pass the buick abi blame, shut the hell up. Everyone makes mistakes. You don't have to rub it in that you are right everytime.)
·     Men should never forget to reassure their women of their love, it is a basic need of women, to need re-assurance.(we are all insecure beings, tell us you do, everytime.)
·     In relationships, men pull back (withdraws emotionally) and then get close, while women rise and fall in their ability to love themselves and others. (give each other some space when needed)
·     When negative feelings are suppressed for a long time, positive feelings become suppressed as well and love dies. ( If your partner does something you don't like, tell them because it will be repeated next time. Forget tolerance, say it not rudely but calmly. Say how it makes you feel or it would grow into resentment and you'd start hating your partner, forgetting you never said a word.)
·     It puts too much pressure on a man, when you make him the only source of love and support. (love yourself woman and let him have a life apart from you, you should too, hang out with your girls and do things you love. Get a job and have a life, not when you need to buy toothpick you call on him.)
·     A man thinks that once he has met all of a woman’s primary love needs and she feels happy and secure, that she should know from then on that she is loved. (we need to hear it, so say it a lot.)

  When I was through with the book, I was amazed and felt well educated about the two beings called man and woman. Then I wondered, if I’m really in a bad mood and feel hurt would I at that moment even remember a weensy teensy bit of all this. hell no! I do not think so. Well, they say ‘no knowledge is lost.’ I hope you learnt a little. If you need the whole details, you know where to get them so you can stop making those mistakes because knowledge is power. Cheers and Good luck!!!

Sunday, March 17, 2013

GARBAGE IN,GARBAGE OUT!

                                                              (written five years ago.)

   (I just had to bring this article back)


    What by Jove does that mean? I do not really think I know. Is it something good or evil? Guess it goes in and comes out as a stick of cigarette does with the exhalation of smoke. It does sound somewhat military, no computer language, I think.
     These days the rate of immorality amongst children and youths is something un-imaginable. Things I couldn't do at an age so young are done now.  Maybe, I would have done this particular thing but my parents weren't that type of parents. It's not as though I’m a grandma now. What exactly am I trying to say? Let me let you in on it. A female child of four, her parents buy her skimpy dresses that cover nothing at all. They see nothing wrong with it, they say, they want their child to look smart besides she is just a small girl (do not blame the rise of pedophiles these days). Please! What happened to smart, frilly, girly dresses, if I may ask? The little girl grows older, at 8yrs; she is still wearing such clothes until she gets to adolescence. We all did Biology and primary science, even if you were the dumbest in class, we know at that age, her breasts and other things (do not ask me to mention them) starts to develop. You can just imagine the picture. Do not blame her; she sees nothing wrong in it, which is how she was raised. After mum and dad, will tell her to stop wearing such clothes but Madam and Oga, Na una start am o! This was the case scenario for Hilda . Her family was my neighbor. Her parents were very rich, they bought her all sorts of clothes, very nice but skimpy. To be sincere, I envied her, we all did, and she was a few years older than I was. Her parents were never around, if her mum was not in Dubai, she was in Abuja, same for her dad; he was always travelling out of the country. She was left at the mercy of house-helps. She never lacked a thing. Men! Did we envy her because to us then, she had everything;she had the freedom we never had,she could do and have anything she wanted. As she got older, we started hearing gists of her with this boy and that boy in the estate. Next thing, it was that she was seen at various hotels in the arms of different men. She was now into prostitution or aristo, which is the better word, she drank, smoked, her dressing was bizarre. Even then, her parents were still never around. One day, a fight erupted in the neighborhood; the wife of one of her paramours beat her black and blue. After, we did not see Hilda around anymore. I later heard that her parents sent her out of the country after the incident. (I don't know if they expect her to change over there,lol! i guess they took her out to save the family from embarassement.) I believe the Holy Book said something about showing a child the right way to walk and he will never depart from it. Therefore, you see it is not her fault one bit. She was not well informed, since her parents were never around. Parents these days leave their children at home with the help and focus more on their jobs. It is not about providing them with all the material things in the world, what happened to the training and love parents give? Why bring a child into the world if you know you cannot take care of the child? Do not even bother. Garbage in, garbage out.
    When I was little, children were children. We played all kinds of outdoor games that made our brains sharp( don't know about you anyways) like, Suwe, Ten-ten, Police and thief, Ring-a-roses and so on. Watched cartoons and children movies like, Sound of music, Walt Disney fairy tales&cartoons, Hannah-Barbera cartoons and read many books. These days, good grief! You cannot help but weep. Yes, kids these days are smart too but they don't have fun.They play computer games filled with violence, shoot and kill! Watch violent cartoons, adult films and vulgar R&B and rap songs(i love rap). They don't read books no more. please, what happened to parental guidance? I have absolutely no idea. Even the so called Cartoon Network shows cartoons were robots are having sex. Parents do not check what their children take in because they do not have the time. You see a girl of 14 and she acts,looks and dresses 30. Our kids are growing up too fast,way too fast. This is a psychological problem but people don't know it. They want to be more than themselves, they feel adults have it all and they want some. They are seeking for attention. There is no one to look at that little girl and tell her there is nothing wrong in being 14. It's an awesome age. If she continues at this pace when she gets to 40, she has regrets and is tired already, there's nothing more to discover. No wonder we have, rapists, pedophilles, ,homophiles everywhere because they are looking for new thrills. (I have friends that are homophiles and through series of discussions, i understand this was one of it,reasons.) Kids of four have boyfriends and girlfriends already and before the age of 12, they have had sex. Nothing is left for adulthood. I even see parents that encourage it, they make fun of it. Do you think kids are stupid and are not listening and seeing the things you make them do? They say it's a modern age. Does that mean our morality should take a back-burner? Then we pat ourselves and say we serve God. 

   There are no songs for kids and the ones available idolize sex. Their music idols are sex symbols. If Beiber can do it, why shouldn't they? Their music and movie idols in Nigeria, say it's great ,so why can't they?  Hey! What is wrong with the media? They are corrupting our kids. A TV station that is on 24hrs will show kid's programme for only 30minutes or nigh an hour. What do they expect the kids to watch, they will watch every other thing they are showing too. Why don't we have a TV station for kids, as other countries do? That is why Cartoon Network is making their money in different countries, though they have been banned from some. Manga is definitely not for kids, i have read the comic versions so i can say it. We need a TV station for Nigerian kids or don't you think so? PG should be added to the TV programmes or something. Parents restrict the sites your kids can visit on the world wide web. I look into the eyes of little kids today and their innocence are gone.
    Now, we can see why  immorality is climbing. They are all giving out and practicing what they have taken in. Seriously, I do not want to imagine what the next few years would look like, with too many things that have been stored being let out.They have no one to talk to. Most of them suffer such psychological trauma, trying to find themselves as they mature, since they have no one to talk to, they talk to their peers who are as lost as they are or they look to the media. I pray for my noble country.What goes in, most surely come out. Garbage in, garbage out!

Monday, March 11, 2013

IS HE OR IS HE NOT?


  Men are from mars and women are from Venus, is what is used to explain the differences between men and women. Yes we agree but then in the world of today when it seems the traditional role has been reversed, how do you tell a man that is really into you. I could tell you the usual suspects about him calling you all day long or introducing you to the folks; well, I have had people who experienced the two and felt he was the one  only to realise he wasn’t. So, how do you tell if he is or he isn’t?  Yes, you shouldn’t push the man, let him make all the decisions, understand your place as the woman, we hear that a lot but how do you tell, how do you look out for your heart before it gets broken to pieces without a thought? What signs are there? Well, would share the little things with you and I hope they help you decide because you deserve to be happy.
·    Hot and cold: you are dating a guy and today, he loves you and tomorrow he wants you both to be friends. You don’t know where you stand. He’s playing games with your mind. He says this and says another. Yes you are not a mind reader .There is nothing as infuriating and  nerve wracking like not knowing where you stand especially if you are in love with the person. A guy that is interested in you wouldn’t want to play mind games with you. He’ll be open to you. We always explain away the mind games with ‘all men don’t know what they want. We have to help them decide.’ If a guy is blowing hot and cold on you, then he only sees you as a fling or nothing serious. His excuses are taller than a pyramid.Men know what they want when they see it. If you are wifey potential, fling potential, backup potential they know so stop making excuses. If he’s acting all confused, step away. You will only get hurt believing he’d wake up and see you standing with him and supporting him, being there for him. Don’t give me the Tuface and Annie story, you weren’t there. Move back until he knows what he wants or better still move on. You are not a light switch so give yourself some respect. If he’s into you he wouldn’t want to send you the wrong signal, so he wouldn’t play games.
·    Actions not words: women are creatures of words. We get deceived with words. Well, men are cognizant of that and tell you what you want to hear. A man that’s into you, that’s a different species, he backs up his words with actions. I don’t mean when he says he’ll buy you a phone and then does it. If that’s your basis for a relationship then you shouldn’t be reading this post. He says he loves you and he goes out by little deeds to show you how. He makes effort to spend time with you no matter how busy he is. He wants to hear your voice even though his whole day has been filled with meetings; just the sound of your voice makes him happy. He heard you say you wanted to see a chick flick and takes you to see it. He heard you complain yesterday about something and goes on to do it for you. Those little things. You say you are not ready for sex and he holds himself back. He treats you right. He listens to you, asks what you think, and shows you off to friends and family. He is proud of you and what you do even if it’s beans you selling. You shouldn’t just listen to words, look at the actions. The way a man treats you speaks volumes about how he feels and not his singing you a love poem. He stands by you in times of trouble. If you have a doer then you better treat him right and hold on to him.
·    Knows you: does he know you, the real you? I don’t mean stuff like what you do for a living, the kind of cars you like or the countries you want to visit. Does he know the real you that matters? A guy that is into you would want to know even the most silly things about you like, ‘what your middle name is, what primary school you went to, if you had a bully in school or you were the bully, how you feel about certain issues, the most embarrassing moment in your life, etc. He’d want to know your fears and hopes and dreams. I don’t mean you giving the info for free without his asking. If he’s into you, he would do the asking. He’d want to know everything, every little detail, share those parts of your life he missed. He’d want to know you in and out because you are the most important thing and the most interesting person to him. Asides wanting to know you, he’d want for you to know him too. He wants to share his life with you too, even those things he doesn’t dare share to the world he’d share with you. Simply put, he’d want to be your best friend and vice versa. Look at it his way, he wants to know you so he’d know how to please and love you better. If he doesn’t know all those silly little things how would he know what gift to get you or what he’d do that will please you and make you love him more? If your man doesn’t know your middle name or how secondary school was for you and those other silly things. He never asks or cares to and you still call him your man. Please evaluate that ‘my man’ you use. When you spend time together what exactly do you do?
·    Listens: does he really listen? He might keep quiet and hear you talk but does that mean he is listening? No it does not. When you talk to him, does he look at you and pays attention or does he reply all the messages and pings on his phone? Women love to talk about how they feel. We love to be listened to. It’s important to us. How do you tell he’s listening then? If you tell him in one of your many talks that you love artworks and it’s your birthday and he gets you an artwork, then he is listening. Another day you quipped into another long talk that you’ve never seen ‘Mrs somebody’ and your friend was telling you about it. Days later he takes you to the cinema or buys the movie and sits with you even though he hates Nigerian movies and it is a chick flick, he is listening. If a man is into you, he will listen to you, pay attention to you. When a woman talks you can tell how she feels about a whole lot of things. It’s in our nature to talk about our feelings and complain. He will listen because he wants to know what makes you happy or sad and how to make you feel good.
·    Respects you: there is nothing like respect. I see women who give it away and say he loves them. If he loves you he will respect you. He will accept you the way you are with your differences. He will respect your feelings on issues. He will not try to change you. He takes your no for your no and doesn’t get angry about it. He doesn’t try to belittle you before his friends or in public. He doesn’t tell you, you are not good enough. He looks and treats you with respect if he’s into you. He respects the kind of work you do. He takes you the way you are.  He admires you and gives you due attention now that is respect. A man that is thoughtful about your feelings respects you.
·    Opens up to you: If he’s into you, he lets you into his life. He shares his fears and worries. Yes they say a real man wouldn’t want to burden you. Please, do you think great men like Obama do not open up to their Michelle? A man that is into you wants your opinion and wants to seek your advice. He comes to you when he is down. He wants to involve you in every facet of his life. He trusts, respects and loves you enough to be himself with you, to be vulnerable. He goes to the extent of sharing his day with you, without even asking you know his itinerary for the day. If you don’t know what ‘your man’ is going through then take a step back. He doesn’t share himself with you and you tell yourself ‘men don’t like sharing their feelings, they don’t like opening up. At least he said he loves me.’ Stop dreaming and wake up.
·    Friends and Family: How does he introduce you to his friends, especially his female friends? If he’s into you, he’d make it clear to everyone with the way he introduces you. We let our friends know how important someone is by how we introduce them, so how did he introduce you. When you meet his family, how did he introduce you? Another question is have you met his friend s and family? He’d want to show you off, create opportunities for his friends who are important to him to meet you and get to know you too, same for his family. If you haven’t met any then I don’t know what to tell you. You meet them and he doesn’t attach a serious label before or after your name during the introduction then you should be smart. He will accept and tolerate your friends and family for your sake even if he doesn’t particularly like them but he will make the effort for you and not tell you to give up friends you had before you met him, just saying.
·    He never asked you: the dude never asked you officially to be his girl and you tell yourself he is yours. You say he digs you and you both are going with the flow. Good for you, you will flow out onto the floor. If he is into you, he will make it exclusive by asking you officially. He wouldn’t want to take his chances. He’d spell it out. If he hasn’t and you are warming the bed, cooking, and doing everything. Well, don’t mistake sex for love. A man can sleep with you all day and not be into you. So, has he asked you officially or are you just wasting your time?
   These are the major factors to look out for. If you have a man on the positive of all these then he is a keeper, if the opposite then better know what you want. What exactly do you want from him? Do you want to be a fling or more? Matters of the heart are very tough and it’s easier to think with the heart than with the head. The truth is love for yourself and self respect comes with making decisions that make you happy, don’t ever settle for less. You’d be there crying and thinking about the dude when you are nothing more than a passing pleasure. It’s time you made yourself happy, if he’s not showing it, you are not a soothsayer and playing a confused waiting game with your heart is detrimental to your focus in every sphere of your life. Remember you can’t make someone love you so don’t waste your time hoping and praying in an uneven relationship.  Learn to let go and don’t hang on as a friend and be hoping. You deserve a man that is into you as you are him and not half chops.  Check the vital signs and know when to let go. It shows strength of character, not weakness. What makes you happy?

Saturday, January 19, 2013

IS YOUR LOVE BLIND?


‘Love is blind.’ It is a general conclusion. Is it literal or figurative? I came across that expression during my Shakespeare mania days in his book The Merchant of Venice “love is blind and lovers cannot see.” Mercutio, one of the characters pointed out... “If love be blind, love cannot see the mark.” Now, you see it has been believed in over the ages and centuries that love is blind. Science proved this too. A research study by University College London in 2004 discovered that feelings of love suppressed the activity of the areas of the brain that control logical and rational thought. They say these neurochemical binders wear off as the relationship settles in.
That is for them. I have come to my conclusion that love is not blind. People are blind. Any love that is detrimental to your health and

Sunday, December 16, 2012

UNGRATEFUL MUCH

   Are you grateful? I’m sure you’d tell me ‘yes I am. I wake up every morning and I thank my maker.’ Do you know sometimes our supposed prayers of thanksgiving can be born out of routine? We say the words but don’t really mean them. It’s like an automated response; we know we have to say it, so we do. Then most of us make a habit of not saying or really meaning that thank you unless something we’ve always wanted has been granted to us. Then you hear

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Moving On

 ( This post was my third post ever. So, it is a blast from the past. I just had to bring it back. Enjoy and i hope it helps you.)
  Relationships are very binding. They can also be very tasking. They can make us and can break us. If your relationship is a good one, you grow, if it is bad it robs your self-esteem. Being in a relationship is same as growing a flower garden. You put your

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Reputation and What do Others Think about You? ( THE CONCLUSION)

  Yes, what people say can serve as a safety check towards your relationship with them but it also serves as a poison that kills you slowly. You lose your individuality in it.
  How do you lose your individuality? You do what they do because you want acceptance even if you don’t agree with it. You do it every time. It becomes your pocket bible.  Have you ever stood before your mirror trying on a dress, you love it and feel so comfortable in it but you tell yourself "people will point at me when I walk down the road. They’d think the style is bizarre" then you pull the dress off for another.
 Let me give you another scenario. You have friends that love partying and staying out late. You enjoy staying home, curled up on your couch with a bowl of potato chips on your lap and watch a movie but you don’t. You keep going out with them every night because you don’t want them to judge you.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Reputation and what do others think about you?



  We’ve all heard the word ‘reputation’  .Maybe your parents flung it at you.
 "How can you want to marry a Hausa boy? Don’t you know I’m a pastor? Do you want to ruin my reputation and that of this family?"
"Please when you get to school, remember the family you are coming from. Do not engage in anything that will ruin the reputation of this family."
"How can you come out with a third class? You have just ruined my reputation, you useless boy. My friends’ children all made first class and second class uppers."
"Where are you going to dressed like that, do you want to ruin my reputation? What would our neighbours say if they saw you outside?"
"How can you take the last position in class every time? Why is my own child different? Don’t you see how well the Onabanjo’s son did and he is in your class?"
"You cannot be a musician in this house. It is over my dead body. You want people to say my son is useless

Thursday, September 13, 2012

The Age factor!

          

  This is an old post but after a conversation with a friend I had to revisit it , modify it and put it up again.

   Age to me is a matter of numbers. In the past, the age of a man was regarded as the measure of that man. Too much emphasis was placed on being elder or younger. Even wills were written reflecting on age because the eldest takes over when the father dies. Is it meant to be that way? Is it not better to give the property to your child you know will carry your business to the next level? Nevertheless, the age factor comes in.
    Even in relationships, the age factor has always been an issue. You see a couple so in love but because the man is old enough to be the girl’s father, the parents refuse. The scenario is worse if the woman

Monday, August 20, 2012

CONSIDERING OTHERS!

It’s human nature to be selfish. We never do things unless we are gaining something from it.It doesn’t have to be material. It can be self respect, acceptance or love. We even make friends with people we gain something from and make us feel good about ourselves. We all have the ME complex.  If the me complex is excessive we say the person is Egocentric. Well, we all are selfish so let’s not delude ourselves.  Ok! Let me not generalize; Mother Teresa wasn’t like that.   I’m not trying to divert from my topic but do you know that some people who give and run charity organizations sometimes do it for what they get out of it? They get fulfilment, acceptance, and recognition from the society and love. We never do things without looking at how it will affect us.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

TICK TOCK!

Tick tock , tick tock,
Tick tock, tick tock,
Mr Clock sang over and over again.
The second hand moved slowly, steady and sure,
The minute hand answered the call,
The hour hand bowed to the pressure.
I looked at them wondered how they understood time.
So, I bent down, looked in and spoke,
‘Hello Mr Clock’

Saturday, July 21, 2012

NO YOU CAN'T!

No, you can’t! I am sure you have heard that a lot. We all have at one time or the other in our lives. Even if it was not addressed to you but to another. People use it a lot to dissuade others when they do not understand your idea, your dream. They tell you it is not possible. When you start to believe them then you lose the passion for that dream and once that is gone, it is gone.
The question is do we always have to follow the norm? Do I have to walk like you or dress the way you think I should dress?

Sunday, June 24, 2012

TWO WRONGS.

   Two wrongs do not make a right, they say. However, why doesn’t it? The Bible says if someone slaps you one one cheek, you should turn the other cheek. But should you do that? What cowardice! It is human nature to take advantage of people. If I slap you, today and you do nothing about it. Tomorrow, what stops me from doing worse when I know, you will not do a thing? The latter is human reasoning and people not wanting to be seen as fools retaliate. If I retaliate, you should know that it is because of what you did and accept my retaliation but people do not get that. Let me share a story.
  There were two friends, Peter and Paul. Peter had

Monday, May 7, 2012

THE IMAGINATION

Our imagination is one of the greatest weapons ever. There is no man made machine that can surpass it. I know the things I imagine on a daily basis. The fact that every person on the planet earth has an active imagination different from

Sunday, February 12, 2012

SAYING GOODBYE


Goodbye is one of the most hated words in any language. It brings tears to the eyes. Celine Dion got it right in her song ‘Goodbye’. We hate it but it is a natural phase in life. We say hello, so we must use its opposite and brother, goodbye.
It might be that a loved one passed. It might be that the one we love left us for another. It might be circumstances that

Sunday, January 1, 2012

THE LIFE SERIES 2; CHIOMA


My name is Chioma. I am thirteen years old. I am pregnant. I was not promiscuous. I have had nowhere to stay. I roam the streets of the city and sleep wherever I find at night. During the day, I beg for alms and food. Today, I have made up my mind to keep the baby. It is not as if I have the money to remove it, I do not even know where they do it. I feel like my body has been invaded. These days, I feel so hungry but there is no food. Last night I slept in a broken down car, two men dragged me out and raped me. The pain is something I am used to, so I did not fight them at all. I have been raped repeatedly since I started roaming the streets. I was pregnant before I started living on the streets.
It started two years ago. I was in the village that Christmas. My parents are very poor. My father is a shoe repairer and my mother sells roasted plantain in the town, I have a brother. I was playing in the stream with my friends when my little brother came to call me. When I got home, there was a car parked in the compound. I had seen cars in the town but I had never seen one very closely. The car was very big. Inside our house, were a big man and a woman who had trousers on. My mother always told me that no respectable woman should wear trousers. Her breasts were very big. At eleven, I looked fifteen. All my friends were envious of me. They stared at me as I walked in. Papa said I would follow them to the big city of Lagos. I was delighted. I saw Lagos in the home videos and Amaka my friend has been there before. She came back with so many nice things and stories.
We set off for Lagos the next day. Mr and Mrs Okafor had no child of their own, they told me. The journey was exciting. They bought me everything that was sold on the road. I was so filled up and excited. They had told my father that I would go to a big school in the city. I was always first in my class. I could not wait to lead in the new city and make friends. I love mathematics and I wanted to be an engineer in future.
I started school and I loved it. The only thing was I had to wake up by four and clean the house, which was a duplex. I set the table for breakfast. Oga and madam leave for work before seven a.m. me; I get to school by seven thirty a.m. I walk to school. When I get home, I continue with the house chores. Oga comes home by eight pm. madam comes home very late. I do not know why. There was a day she came home by midnight. I have to be awake to open the door for her.
One day, I was in the bathroom when the doorbell rang. I tied my wrapper and rushed to open it. It was oga. As I took his briefcase, my wrapper loosened. I covered myself up immediately. I apologized and brought out his dinner. The next day, oga and I were at home alone. I was in my room reading, when my door opened and oga came in. He had a nylon bag in his hand. He gave it to me; it was filled with matching pants and bras. I thanked him, thinking he would leave but he stood there. He told me I should put them on, that he wanted to see it on me. I said I could not, he threatened me. I pulled my clothes; he was watching me with a look in his eyes. I tried the first pair and then he jumped on me. I was crying, begging and fighting him. He was on top of me and he was too heavy and strong. He tore the underwear. I can still remember his breath on my face. He squeezed and pinched my breasts, it was painful. I felt something, hot and long on my thigh. Then it entered me, it was so painful. I felt like I had been torn into two. He was moving on top me, with his hand over my mouth and he squeezed my breasts with the other. He made an animal sound and stood up. I could not move, the pain was too much for me. He threatened to deal with me if I ever told madam. He said madam would never believe me that the last girl had tried. He told me I would enjoy him. I cried throughout the night, I could not believe my virginity was gone without my consent. He came every night even during my period. On those days, he would make me put that thing in my mouth. It was so disgusting, that I vomited on him one day. He now bought me things every time. I was meant to be enjoying all this but I could not. I knew he was using me. There were times I wanted to tell madam but she was always absent. Months later, I noticed my period did not come. I was always tired. One day, madam took me to the hospital for a test. The doctor told her I was pregnant. She took me home that day and she and oga queried me on who was the father of the unborn child. I could not say anything because oga was threatening me with his eyes. She beat me and told me I was going back to the village, the next day. That night, I took my things and ran away. I have been on the streets for two weeks but it feels like two years. It is almost Christmas. There is joy and laughter everywhere but I cry. My life is over. My dreams of being an engineer are gone. This afternoon, I had met a woman from my village when I was begging for alms. I had told her what happened. She said, she and her family are leaving for the village tomorrow that I will follow them. We are in her car; she is taking me to her house. It would be nice to have a hot meal and sleep on a real bed. I would rather face the shame and disappointment from my parents than roam the dangerous streets. But really, how do I face them tomorrow?
This story is fictional. Be kind to that child that lives with you. She is human and is someone’s child. Treat them as if they ARE yours and not animals. HAPPY NEW YEAR WITH LOVE!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

LIFE SERIES 1


Life is full of difficulties. Some say it is a bitch and can bite you where you least expect it and others say if life gives you lemons, make lemonade out of it. This life really is a mystery or is it? The things we hear and see every day are unbelievable. It gets me wondering what life has in store for me and I increase my prayer effort. I sit and I ponder for minutes, hours.
It was a lovely Friday afternoon. I wanted to get some things. I thought about getting to the border since I was close to Mile 2, i changed my mind when I saw a market at Cele. I got down and started going round the market searching. In this harmattan it was not a pleasant chore, the dust was unsettling. I always did love the sights and sounds of a market. I went from one seller to the other. I saw a little wooden kiosk looking shop. I entered inside. I met a pretty woman. She is on the big side but not fat because she had a lovely figure, plump more like it. I was not paying attention to her initially. Her dressing was like that of every market woman but neat. She was conversing in Igbo with her neighbour. I greeted and she responded, she asked what I wanted. I was taken aback. Her English was the Queen’s English. She spoke better than most bankers and call centre agents who always use fake irritating accents. I could not believe my ears; I had to hear her speak again so I asked another question. It was not a phony accent. I looked round her shop again and wondered what someone who spoke like this was doing here.it was a shack. a meat seller was beside her shack and a charcoal seller at the far end. this to me was squalor ,poverty for the voice i heard. She was wearing a faded wrapper that had seen better days. on her feet were bathroom slippers albeit i noticed her nails were finely pedicured. I was lost for words. I looked at her again. I guessed she was in her forties and I was right in the end. My curiosity antennae were up and they refused to go down. I had to know, to understand.
I sat there; I could not help looking, more like staring at her. She was even graceful. Finally, I spoke, I told her I liked the way she spoke. She smiled at me and said thank you. I had to know more. I told her she speaks like someone that has lived in the UK. She smiled again. I waited for her to say something and finally she did. She had a faraway look in her eyes when she told me yes. I continued, I told her sorry madam but I just have to ask you, what are you doing here? She laughed; I liked the way she laughed too. It reminded me of people with class.
She looked at me, told me it was a long story, and stopped. I hoped she would continue and she did. She had schooled in London during the eighties before I was born obviously and she laughed again. She was there for seven years. She did a diploma course before she did a degree course. She came back to Nigeria for the holidays. She met a man who wanted to marry her, more than one actually but she settled for love. That was the beginning of her downhill journey. She could not get a visa to travel back; she had a job waiting there. It was meant to be easy but she does not understand what happened. Her husband had an ok job but he never progressed. Her in-laws insisted that she must not work. They said she was the reason her husband never progressed. He too changed all of a sudden. She could not work. They were living from hand to mouth. The worst happened; her original certificates were engulfed in a fire. She could always get in touch with the school now but who would take someone without work experience in this country. My dear, it is all in the past. She has accepted it all as life. Now, she owns this place yes it is small but she has been able to put her children through school with it. Her eldest is in her final year at a federal university. She is struggling so her children will not live the life she has or make her mistakes. She smiled at me again and continued. She could have avoided all this if she had listened to her mum not to marry the man or prayed about it. Her family washed their hands off her. They later went to the afterlife after that.
She looked at me and started giving me serious advice. She told me to be careful the kind of company I kept. I should never let anybody disrespect me and dictate my life. Be careful to whom you give your affection, your love they hold power over you. It should be someone that really deserves you. Before, I get married that I should pray seriously, before I say yes. That some people’s destinies can stunt that of others. They kill it and bring you down you will never go forward. Some things in life are more spiritual than we think. That man that seems like the perfect choice might not be be careful as you grow. A wrong choice can destroy you. As she was saying all this, she was not bitter; she smiled all through and only paused briefly to remember with nostalgia. She told me about her stay in London, the fun, the life she had there. Only then did I see the pain. She had it all but it all disappeared, she said and her smile came back. As I left that shop that afternoon, I wished there was something I could do for her. I sighed and shook my head, pondering as she waved me good-bye.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

MAGUN!

(a lil something to elevate my independent day blues. what were we celebrating, really? The Tvs,radios,papers etc have said it all. What can i say that they haven't so enjoy the lil piece of fiction if you will.) The holidays were back. Sandra had travelled to the US for the summer, Gladys was visiting her aunt at Kaduna. I was home alone. My siblings were not around so I was the help in the house, I am not lazy but I was already counting the days to resumption. Out of the blues came entertainment for my imagination one day. It is about my neighbours, The Popoola’s. I had met the wife on numerous occasions thanks to my help status. I was washing my mum’s clothes when I heard the screaming ‘Help!’ ‘SOMEBODY HELP US.’ The noise was coming from Tunde’s apartment; he was a young banker, a handsome one at that. At first, I thought there were robbers in the vicinity; I rushed to lock the gate. The screams were persistent and wrenching, I ran to Mr Ani’s house to alert him. A couple of us gathered and ran to the apartment. The door was locked so we broke it down. Nothing and no one could have prepared me for what I saw that day; Mrs Popoola was on top Tunde. That was not the issue, they could not come off each other, they were stuck like glue. She was screaming, she was in pain. We decided to take them to the hospital. If it were I in their situation, my shame would know no bound. On the way, Pa Adamu, stopped us and said we should call Mr Popoola that he had the solution and not the hospital. He really did. At the end of the day, after narrating the incident to my mum, the whole neighbourhood was abuzz with the event. From what I heard and saw from different sources, this is what I believe is the real story. Very exciting and strange but true. See how it plays out in my head. Femi is a man of 40yrs. He was not married. He later gets married to a woman of 26 called Funke. They have a house of their own and they live together. Femi is a business man, he leaves very early in the morning and comes back around 11 pm at night. He rarely has time for his wife. He does not satisfy his wife fully emotionally and sexually although he provides her with enough money. His wife is a housewife, not that it was her choice, her husband insisted on it. One day, a new neighbour moves into the neighbourhood. His name is Babatunde jackson.He is a bachelor, a good-looking one at that. One day, Funke and Tunde’s path cross. They meet at a neighbour’s party. As usual, her husband was nowhere to be found. They got talking and discovered they shared lots of mutual interest, they had even attended the same university and they had certain chemistry between them. A week later, Tunde decides to go and visit his friend and neighbour Funke. He gets there and meets Funke crying. She is crying because of her husband’s unattentiveness to her. He tries to console her and the next thing they fell into each other’s arms and made love. This started their affair. Femi notices the changes in his wife’s attitude. He confides in his friend Kunle, who suggests to him that he should perform magun on her. Kunle takes him to a native doctor, who gives him a broomstick and tells him to drop it somewhere his wife will pass, once she walks over the broomstick, if she attempts to make love with another man, they (she and the man) will stick together as though glue was applied. He gets home and places it on the entrance of their bedroom and she crosses it without knowledge of it. Funke meets with Tunde and they get down to business. He enters her and after their romp in his bed, he discovers he cannot come out of her again. He screams, she screams, neighbours rush in and discover them, naked and joined to each other. They rush them to the hospital but no help. An old man suggests they look for the husband and beg him that he believes he did magun on his wife, if not they would die. They searched for Femi could not find him so they call him on phone. Femi finally comes home and the neighbours plead with him that he should forgive the duo that they are at the point of death. He listens and re-does the magun and the two bodies separate. i saw a movie on this when i was younger 'THUNDERBOLT'. so, it is real? i kept pinching myself. The shame was too much for the duo.Tunde left the neighbourhood and Funke returned to her parents’ house. Well, nice story isn’t it or what do you think? If you ask me that is utter nonsense, i.e. the magun stuff. It is only a man with inferiority complex and not sure, of himself that would stoop so low and wicked. INSECURITY is the word. Let's add obsession to that. Ol’ boy, if you do not want to enjoy your wife’s traffic allow another to do the job for you, please. Body no be wood o! She is a human and needs the attention especially because she is a woman. It is not love, forget what your twisted little mind decides to tell you and it will tell you it is also your culture. Magun is still practised in Africa.. It is seen as a way of preventing women from being unfaithful. Can you imagine it is still practiced in this present modern day and time? The holidays now has a little spice at least. I cannot wait to tell the girls all about it. I had to tell you fiirst. Cheers!

Thursday, September 22, 2011

AND THE FIRE MONSTER CALLED ON US.

It was a Saturday like any other. I left home early in the morning. Lagos was as busy as usual on a Saturday; canopies were being erected for parties. Luxury cars with ribbons filled the streets carrying hopefuls going to tie the knot. One could perceive the aroma of rice and other delicacies we use for parties everywhere. I got home in the afternoon. I was spent. I walked into my street, albeit some people call it an estate. I said hello to the security man as was my custom. I went to one of the shops on the street or estate if you will. (Things here are very expensive. I do not know if it is that, they think people here pluck money from trees. Biscuits sold five naira outside are sold for fifteen naira in here and the list goes on.) I bought what I wanted. (Recharge card, same everywhere. Thank God!) I got home, climbed the stairs, and entered my room. The sleep that had eluded me the past few days came calling for attention. I pulled my shirt, and then I heard it. ‘Fire! Fire!’ I felt the sleep was playing with my brain somehow. My cousin dashed into the room. ‘The estate is on fire.’ I ran to my window, which was overlooking the street, and saw neighbours, carrying their things out, those that had cars were driving out. Where would they have driven? I ponder now; the other entrance into the two streets called an estate is barred. I ran out, dialling the Lagos state fire service number I had, it was not going. I ran up the stairs to the boys’ quarter, and then I saw the smoke. The clouds were dark and angry. We ran out the house gate, I gave the fire service number to others to try finally it went through. I ran to the street gate. The people that had shops in the row were parking their goods out. The frenzy was amazing. I helped those I could help. I calculated it in my head; this fire would have to burn over twenty houses before it gets to mine. It took thirty minutes before the fire service got to an estate that was beside the main road safety corporation in the state. People, were crying, over their goods and properties. I stood at a corner helpless. I knew I had to pitch in somehow, instead of waiting for the fire in my house (remember Titanic)There, I discovered that the fire started from the maxi foam company in front of the estate and that the man with the auto shop who had new cars in, the whole cars burnt, the engines were toast. The fire truck came into the street, a small fire truck. We had to break the wall so it, could pass safely to the factory. It could not pass a gutter, so we took the woods that served as a bridge into each shop and lay before it. You should have been there when we broke the walls down; these walls had been standing since I was a babe. The firefighters, took the pipe through the broken wall, the building facing the wall was already burning it was put out. Some people were trapped inside. A courageous young man scaled the building and used his might to pull out the protector in the veranda. Funny thing, the people did not come down first, they threw down their goods and belongings first. I called their attention that they could move forward into the street and pass it through one of the shop directly to the burning factory but they paid me no attention. Alas, the pipes were too short. The firefighters were just three so we lent them a hand. (How they could send just three firefighters with a small fire truck to put off a fire that had been raging for over an hour in a foam factory still makes no sense to me.) We ran, grabbed the pipes and took one end through the window, finally. There was a church in the compound at the end of the factory. There, we cleared the church; the band equipments etc, we took to safety. Now, we faced the fire monster directly. There was still a wall but there was a small building close to the factory, the men tried climbing, the roof was made of zinc and it was as old as the building. It gave way and they nearly fell to the ground. I looked there was a building attached to it but higher (the church) and its roof was aluminium. I shouted to the firefighters to wet themselves (their clothes were made of inflammable material) and get on the aluminium roof again no one listened. Ok, there is a leister generator climb on it and pour the water directly in, deaf ears. People, kept trying to drag me out. You are a young girl what are you doing here? You are the only girl here, go and join the others outside. I looked round, most of the men, had their phones out, videoing but not helping. I overheard one saying. ‘This is naija abeg; I can’t kill myself for another man’s thing.’ The water was being wasted. We moved the cars in the compound out. A carpenter volunteered to climb, so did others. One of the firefighters approached me and told me to tell my people to come down. In my mind, I was like if you cannot do it let others do. We yelled they came down. We prayed for the rain to come but it fled us that day, it went on a journey like Baal in the Old Testament. Then, we prayed to God for help in any form. The fire kept getting bigger. There where chemicals in the factory obviously but the water they came with was plain water. How can plain water quench chemicals? A man came to ask me, with his phone (I felt like slapping the phone out of his hands.) ‘Young woman, is this your father’s company? ‘No, was the answer I could give. Someone called me away. I begged the firefighter to call for back up; the backup came an hour later. The water was finished, so we waited for backup, though my brother offered to connect the pipes to our underground tank at home, we have like three pumping machines and more pipe than they did, they refused. The next thing we heard was an explosion, we all ran for our lives, it was a stampede. We came back later. We all understood that if the fire touched the house at the end, our estate would burn to the ground, that house happened to be an uncle’s house . When, the second fire truck came, then I noticed the crowd that stood outside doing nothing but watching with their phones taking pictures and videoing. I shook my head in disgust. Then, a security man that came with the truck decided to fight with one of the men helping. The security man was telling those of us inside to leave with his whip. I wondered where he was two hours ago. I dragged the man away from the security man. It was not the moment to fight it was the time for action. My phone had been ringing for hours. It was my mum. As I walked home, my hair was a mess, my nails broken; I was soaked and dirty from head to toe. I smelt of smoke though I am not a smoker and I had inhaled more smoke to cause me lung cancer than most people would in their lifetime. People stared at me perhaps some thought I was an idiot and the rest did not know what to make of me. I took no notice of all this, I only felt good that I had lent a hand, even though it could have cost me my life. I wish things were better and people could help one another. My thinking is this is someone’s livelihood, his main factory (maxi foam), and his dream. What if one day, when I have mine and this happens to me, I pray there will be people to help me not watch( the owner came, he stood and saw his dream burning to the ground, he had to be driven home. The owner of the car shop was out of the country. He was coming home that same day with new cars.) I hope they all have insurance. I pray no huge fire disaster happens in Lagos or Nigeria as a whole, it would be terrible. Imagine incompetent firefighters, no chemical water to put off fires, uniforms made of non fire resistant material plus ladders that are as short as the ones we have at home. Moreover, to top it off, people would rather picture your ruin or death than lend a hand because it is not their business.(the pictures ,thanks to my neighbour. He couldn’t cross the wall, fear. lol!) As I traipsed to church around six in the morning, the next day, I passed the front of the factory; I was shocked, lo and behold! The fire was still burning. What did that second fire truck do? I thought as I hurried on foot to mass. What more can I do but pray.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

THE HIATUS; 'Do not speak to the Press!'



  We all take breaks. It might be in our relationships, in our jobs, in our dreams, from something WE love. I took a break and it feels like a big hole in my heart. I guess that is what happens when you take a break from something you love. You get this incomplete feeling, you feel like something is missing. You go to bed the sleep does not come. You do other things but you know there is something left. I have felt that way these past weeks. It is not as if I did not want to but I could not because circumstances beyond my control came to play so I took a hiatus. My hiatus is officially over. I feel the hole closing up and healing up. My unexpected break is over. Therefore, what is one of the things that kept me away for so long? I answered the call to serve the fatherland. Sometimes I ask myself frankly, did I really answer the call out of my own freewill or was I made to. Give me a moment to think. I am back, it was not my choice and I would never have chose it, same goes for more than half the population I was in it with, sorry I meant am because I am still in it. We are made to spend one year as cheap labourers serving the fatherland they say but what has the fatherland done for me that I have to serve it? Nothing! From my days as an infant until my undergraduate days, nothing was done for me. All the fatherland could do was make the cost of living so high that our parents groaned under the pressure to send us to school with their sweat and blood. The fatherland made the system of education look like a child’s play. The fees are high, why couldn’t they make it free? Build more infrastructures for us?  Pay our teachers’ well so they do not carry out their frustrations on us? Some of us got free education through the public school system in the primary and secondary school stage but the education is horrible, the teachers act as if they are forced to teach, so you guess what happens. Let us not go into the tertiary education where strikes keep us at home for months on end. After that, this same fatherland makes it compulsory for you to serve it before you can gain gainful employment. Employment to make money and spend on your parents. Yes, the money for serving is up but how long will it last in this harsh times? The one year of becoming cheap labourers and pawns in the hand of the fatherland (moment of silence for those who lost their lives serving). We are uprooted from our comfort zones and thrown into the unknown; some of these zones turn out to be volatile and deadly. The fatherland knows this but he sends us there. When we end up dead, they dole out 5 million to our parents. What is that after a parent has suffered for years and spent more than that awaiting to reap millions from their investment?  Wouldn’t that pawn alive make that in just a year or more? Use that money to buy his first car? Look at it this way why not give us that money now we are alive so we can start up our own businesses, further our education and not end up unemployed after serving you? Why send people to far places and they end up in schools after that they come back to their comfort zones, unemployed and with practically no genuine work experience? Why not use that one year and train us in our fields of interest or create alternative interests we can learn not necessarily white-collar jobs so after this one year we can start our own businesses as entrepreneurs, create employment for others and help the dying economy? It has become a circle that after, since we know nothing else, have no skills we end up in white-collar jobs working for others to get richer, we see it as the only option. We are not groomed to think out the box and strike out on our own so we end up in banks, oil companies and telecommunications  when our small scale idea , if we were groomed to take steps could have grown to become a huge company like them too. After the one year, we say to ourselves we’ll go back to our dreams but we never do, we get lost in it all, the system makes us tired and kills the urge we had. The fatherland has placed us in a box and yet he wonders why it never grows. The fresh minds of the fatherland die rapidly in dead end jobs, they are so tired to stand up and fight for him. Yes, I am not happy that I too have fallen into that box. One year of my life will be wasted in a box when I could have done great things starting now with my fingers, discover the person I am meant to be and grow stronger doing what I love. Each day I wake up,i go to a work I do not love, I come back home drained out and unable to think of anything else because I have become a circle of routine; wake up early, work, come home late and sleep. Nothing productive is achieved for me, towards my growth in becoming who I want to be. The fatherland breeds unsatisfied youths who feel they can do nothing about it. The society has done it to us, by saying ‘after school you serve, get a good job, get married and have kids.’ Look at that sentence or is it a phrase ‘get a good job’ why is it ‘get’ and not ‘create’?  If you leave me, I will go on and on
  ‘Do not speak to the press’ Every time I heard it, it sounded ominous and the warning bells rang. Why would someone say that repeatedly if they have done no wrong? If your conscience were clear, you would never say that. I heard that a lot in the prison I was never allowed to leave. We wore our white prison uniforms; the sight blinded the sun when he looked down at us. I got to prison late. There were no accommodations, luckily, I got space. We were thirty-eight souls in each room, if there was an epidemic we would have all died. The rooms were too small, the restrooms unimaginable. Every time I went there to do my business, my business refused to come out, maybe it saw the environment. The food was ok they say, I never ate it. They say it is better than most of the other prisons because ours was a special prison. The clinic was an apology. They hoarded the drugs; any complaints received paracetamol, two tablets of it. It was the rainy season, they had no inhalers but pink liquid syrup, and they had that in excess. What happened to the drugs that were supplied to the clinic before the prison was opened?  Did I forget to mention I did not get my prison uniform until the week I was meant to leave prison? The cost of living provided by the Sherlock merchants in there was too high; I felt a pound of flesh leave every time I patronized them.  I heard we were entitled to a cow each day. I guess a lion ate half the cow before it got to us; my index finger is bigger than what we got. I heard a plate of food for each person per meal as budgeted is 500 naira but we got 100 naira worth. Some of us slept in twos in the tiny bunks, others slept in the church halls and on the floor. I also heard the prison kit for each person was budgeted at 70,000 naira. When I got my kit, I had never seen such substandard wears in my life; the poor people in the war country of Sudan wear better. The quality was an apology. To sum it up, they were worth 8,000 naira. No, they were not made in China wears, those are better, they could not have been made in the beloved city of Aba either, we were clothed but we were naked, any little movement the clothes gave way and revealed the rest. On the bright side, I met many lovely people who became my friends; they made my days bearable in prison. I thank them all for their friendship.  It is time for me to go now; you can imagine the last words I heard before I left prison, ‘Do not speak to the press.’ Are you the press? What is the worst that can happen to me? They trace my prison code through my name and increase my probation period. I hope they do it; I have always wanted to take the fatherland to his court and see the headlines in the papers. ‘THE FATHERLAND versus FRANCES, A SLIP OF A GIRL.’

Friday, May 6, 2011

Music or Fashion design, which is the higher form of Art?

                                                        (THE MUSIC SERIES, PART 1)
MUSIC OR FASHION DESIGN, WHICH IS THE HIGHER FORM OF ART?
  The word Art, according to my English electronic dictionary, is the expression of creative skills in a visual or non-visual form by creative activities such as painting, music and drama.  In my own words, Art, is something creative, that leaves a lasting impression, you appreciate it and it makes you happy, sad or thoughtful, It is an extension of what the Artist is feeling and wants others to feel and see through his own eyes and make their own.  Checked up on Fashion design, could not find such a word in my dictionary, so I will split the word in two. Fashion is a popular trend, a way of doing something. While Design is a decorative pattern. One can now say that Fashion design is a way of putting down a decorative pattern that becomes a popular trend and a particular way of doing or rather wearing some things.  Music, on the other hand is the art of writing or playing music by combining vocal or instrumental sounds in a pleasing way. 
  They both represent what Art is about but I believe Music is the higher form of art between the two. You may not agree with my point of view. Fashion design, we agree takes a whole lot of work, the Designer, has this sudden burst of creativity, he begins to draw it on paper like the true artist he is. After that, he tries to see his creativity brought to life, the way he pictured it, in form of a belt, bag, shoes, cloth or jewelry Etc. Music is conceived the same way. The musician has this song in his head; maybe he saw something or heard something and he is moved, he begins to put it down in writing or sound. He wants to tell the story to others. So, after the writing comes the making of the music. Here, we have the vocalist and the instruments needed to make the song the musician has created in writing into its final true form. This takes a whole lot because the vocalist has to get the right tone that portrays what the written music is about to pass the right message.  So, why would I still say music is higher when they go through the same process of creation? Read on.
  Art is supposed to last forever. There are songs by Dolly Parton, the Abbas, and Barry White that were released years before I was born but I love these songs. How possible? They were still in circulation on radios and TV stations and my parents still had their records after I was born. Cannot say the same for fashion designs; let me give you an example. I have no idea what was in the Christian Dior’s spring collection of 1986. That is to show you that fashion design does not last and it never leaves a lasting impression, it goes and comes with season. Today it is Gladiator sandals and tomorrow, peep toes. Imagine wearing a gown with a large tummy belt five years ago and you would have been laughed at, called a relic of a lost age and a fashion victim. Yes, we have songs that are rave of the moment but they never go off circulation completely, even after twenty years because people still love them. Yes I agree,when you wear a sexy gown, it makes you feel seductive and all, in jeans you feel free and depending on what you wear it with, if It is sneakers you feel so comfy and tomboyish, if they are heels; you feel like a lady. Yes, people dress according to their mood and certain dresses and other apparels can put you in any mood; black is sober and elegant, red is sexy and dashy, yellow is sunny, pink is girly etc. I shop a lot but most times, I can forget a cloth for a month, do not even remember it exists. I have art works. That is my first passion; I never forget I have those. Music on the other hand can motivate you, make you say wow, make you cry, happy, in love etc. yes what does that have to do with art? A lot! Art is an expression.
  Art is a universal form which music represents because it is a universal language. You can listen to music from different countries and you appreciate and enjoy them even if you do not understand the language. A very good example is songs from South Africa by Yvonne Chaka Chaka and Brenda Fassie. Yes, Fashion design is somewhat universal e.g. we have Calvin Klein designs all over the world but hey! You cannot compare the two. We do not understand the words in songs from other countries but we understand the art, the music, the expression used. Yes, fashion has different genres or kind, music does too. 
  Music is more in depth it tells you a story. It makes you happy, sad, cry, shout, dance, and motivated which is everything Art should be. Fashion design does not do that for you. Agreed, you feel good when you wear the cloth, jewelry, shoe or bag but you pull it off and forget it for months or years in your wardrobe or give it out. It goes out of style. Music like every true art does not. check out works done by Leonardo da Vinci, Rembrandt ,Michelangelo, Pablo Picasso they never go out of style they are sought for and they were done years before my birth, centuries even. Looking at music, works by Ludwig van Beethoven, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart done centuries back but we still love them. Yes I do.  What was the first work of coco Chanel? What does it look like? Found it online but prior to that, I had absolutely no idea and so those more than half the world’s population. As I said before, I am a fashion enthusiast, my friends will say I am fashion mad but facts are still facts.
  Music is free for all. It is something everybody can enjoy free, through the radio stations and TV stations like the sky. The rich and poor enjoy it, it is not expensive, and one can afford it in its originality, no need for a fake. However, fashion designed products, Pheew! Most people cannot afford the originals unless they get the knock offs.  Only the rich can afford the originals. Yes, the artworks I buy are expensive too but they last and do not go out of style rather it appreciates, the expression created by the artists moved me that is why I bought them.
    Music is art in its entirety and even the definition of Art wraps it up because music was mentioned in the definition and Fashion design was not.
     They say Fashion design is shallow and I agree to a degree because it makes an impression but it never lasts but is forgotten and dies off with time like a withered rose. Music, never dies, it lives on inside because Music is forever like Art.  Do you agree?