The Musings of an Aspiring Poet

Encounter with an Okada Rider

2012-02-10T02:32:00.000-08:00

LOOKING FOR AN OKADA
“Okada”

“Oga how much? Oga na N200”.

“Just from here to Kofo? Oga how far now? Na N100 I go pay”

“Oga , no way. Na N150 last. Dem dey catch okada for Ozumba. Na Adeola Odeku I go pass”

“Oga take N100”

Okada drives off, slowly…

“Oya. Oga wait. I go pay d money. I beg drive soffery”

“No wahala” was the response followed by the strong smell of palm-wine in his breath.

ON THE OKADA
Me to myself: “I had no choice; I couldn’t continue waiting at this time of the night for another bus. That naked mad man holding his winky sitting over there didn’t look extra friendly. He might decide he wants to touch my clothes”

Okada man to himself “oh boy, after I drop this man, I go buy palmwine from Nwanchukwu …..”

Me to myself: “which sort of okada is this? There is almost no where for me to put my leg on. God I hope to I get there in one piece”

Okada man to himself “Dat Nwachukwu sef. Him papa. Why that guy no want give person jara. Na from that girl I go buy from next. Precious. The problem be say Precious own no de catch person sef. But e be like say she like prick. Okon give am sef…”

Me to myself: “There is no substitute for this madness. See how he rides, doesn’t this guy understand brakes. Gosh man! I hope this guy doesn’t get to hit anything. This is preposterous. God I hate my boss. Always putting me under unnecessary pressure. This country is too hectic. Next time, late or no late, I will use my car”

Okada man to himself “Oh boy that girl must sabi do. See her yansh. That one shacks go finish man. I fit give am belle sef” He smiled to himself.

“Okada, se you hold change”

“Oga how much?”

“Na N1000”

“Oga I no get change oh!”

Okada man to himself “E good say I don hide all my change. All these aje butter boys. Im no go wan drag change with me. That N1,000. I fit get room for Gordon side, Precious, your orobo go precious today…”

Me to myself: “No way I am giving this drunkard more than the N150 we agreed for. Does he know how hard I worked to get this money? This country is filled with quacks, who all they know how to do is ask and ask and ask”

“WE NEED CHANGE OH”

“Oga, park for there, under that tree”

“Oga, my money”

“Oga, Na only N1,000, I get, I no get change oh”

“Oga, you go forget the change oh! I dey run, you wan spoil my business. Abi, you wan give me the money make I go find change?”

“No way. You sabi person for here? Na my area be this. Make I ask person for change”

“Oga security. I beg you get change? I suppose pay this okada man N150 and na N1000 I get”

Security man to himself: “Idiot. Na when im need person, he go remember. Since I join this office e never give me nothing. He go dem waka dey go like say na im papa work. God go punish am. Make I give am N650. E fit kuruma forget balance, give me”

“Oga, na only N650 I get oh. You go take?”

“No worry. Thank you”

Me to myself: “Obviously an undercutting ploy. Boy I can smell you from a mile. I see the way you look at me from a distance, giving me your “I_go_ school_ too” look and try to speak good English, and at the same time messing up your tenses. Oga. Sorry, you_ just_ can’t_chop_me, sir. Not today”.

“I beg, oga DVD, you get change?”

“Oga, I no get”.

DVD man to himself “this boy wey no too dey buy DVD. Na only 3 DVD he don buy out of which he return one say e no clear. All these people sef. Chai. Dem no wan lose N1”.

“Oga, please give me money make I dey go now” groans the okada man.

THE END OF OUR RELATIONSHIP

“Oga mallam you get change”.

“Yes, I get”.

Mallam to himself: “When this man go buy this im instant coffee? Na im dey buy pass before? Before na nice guy. E no dey complain about the N5 I dey put on top.”

Mallam gives me the change.

“Thank you”

“Oga e don tey when you come greet your boy. I get am for coffee, plenty plenty”

“Oga, na the diet wey I dey on. My doctor talk say make I no dey drink too much coffee”

Me to myself: “Rip off sucker. This thing goes for N25 in other places. I can get it for N20 if I buy in bulk. See your hungry head, selling it for N30”

“Oga that one good oh! Make you greet madam for me”

Mallam to himself: “which kind diet, with this kind big belle.Bros, I see when you dey buy digestive everyday from Goodies”

“Oga I wan dey go, I beg my money oh!”

I hand over the N150 to the okada rider. Put it in his pocket and rode away, bringing an end to our brief encounter/relationship.

Awa Naa (je eniyan) [We Too (Are somebody)]…

2011-12-15T03:50:00.000-08:00

Madam Risi buka (“mama” as she is fondly called) is in a corner on Adio Street, just around New garage, an area in Bariga. The Buka is located at a short distance from the local government council, right opposite Prince Akinlaja Newspaper stand. Her shop is known to open Mondays to Saturdays from 4:30am to 12:00am and Sundays from 2 pm to 10pm.

She has a strict routine which all her 12 employees have to live by. The day starts with a 30 minutes devotion during which they all have to recite Psalm 23, sing praises, and give testimonies. After the devotion, the shop opens for business with Rashidat frying the fish, akara and dodo just outside the door of the buka to entice its customers.

Mama’s buka is one of the most popular buka around the Bariga axis. Located in an uncompleted building, many are surprised at how the buka stands the envy of all the restaurant owners around, even Bimpe’s “Brotherly food” that is opposite the Apostolic Church at Jagunmolu Street. Bimpe’s husband, who works for Skye Bank, invested a lot to make her restaurant amazing and giving it all the perks of a modern buka. It felt new, and always had that smell of lavender. The sitting area, furnished with white plastic chairs can also boast of three standing fans and table mats. All her employees wore blue and white uniforms. Bimpe’s shop was usually full during the church’s convention. It is only during that period that her restaurant has considerable traffic. For the rest of the year, the restaurant was empty and usually stayed the attraction of only Bariga’s “high-end” earners: drivers who work in one of the Oil Companies on the Island/white men, church owners and the children of big landlords. The common earners would troop into the simpler structure and enjoy the company of mama.

Mama’s buka has two sections both with un-cemented floor. The main section, which covers over three quarters of the floor space, is sparsely furnished with six wooden benches and tables for customers. On each table was a plastic white bowl and blue stripped kettles for washing hands. The other section partitioned by a small wall with a narrow entrance was the make shift kitchen. As plumbing had not started the kitchen traffic (to include receiving water from the hawker’s wheel-barrows or disposal of waste) was done through the extremely odd looking 62 x 72 inches window overlooking the back of the house. Right next to this section, you will find the exit and a seat for the makeshift cashier. Next to the main entrance you see a small seat and wooden box (which doubles as a both table and cash box) for the cashier.

Mama is one woman who has aged so well. You can tell the obvious signs of beauty in her face, but her eyes tell stories of one who has done a lot of pondering.
She has had to ponder on burning the candle at both ends to send Risi to Primary and Secondary School up to Osun State polytechnic, where Risi is to study Marketing;
Her thoughts are sometimes lost wondering which action to take against Risi’s irresponsible uncle Remi, who always seem to come up with some of the most outrageous money making scheme to get money out of her;
Sometimes she cannot help but worry about conniving employees, witty artisans and crafty sellers who seem to strive more to outsmart her rather than do the job they were employed to do;
But most of the time, her thoughts are in her native home, her place of birth, where she spent the first 25 years of her life.

Never the less, she is a still a beautiful woman. Her hair is thick and in signature cornrows, usually wrapped in Ankara scarf. Her buba sits well, but the bottom of her iro is never proportionate in length due to mama’s old fashioned method of storing money. Her money is always stored within the bulge formed by the layers of her iro around the waist. For her fiftieth birthday, Risi bought mama a waist pouch. “Mama, you so gats to upgrade” she says in her “American” (thanks to DSTV) accent. Mama’s response to her was “omo mi, aso yi lo ran e lo si ile-iwe, bosi wu mi maa fi se iyawo fun e" (“My child, this cloth that sent you to secondary school, and if it pleases me I will celebrate your wedding in it”).

After the rush from 5:30am to 7:00am, mama leaves the buka, under the care of either one of her most senior employee, Famous or Bose and then off she goes to the market. She makes every effort to get back before 12:00pm and return to her post as the cashier. In the buka, it is around this time the day ripens; then the commuters arrive from the east trying to avoid the chaos of Oshodi, and the people who work in the Bariga axis, the drivers, bricklayers, and the bus drivers all have one place destination; “Awa Naa” [which translates to mean “We too”].

Who named the buka “Awa Naa”?

As the story goes, the name to her buka “Awa Naa” was a result of a move by the spirit during its dedication. It was held according to her Christian religious rites. These rites dictate that a pastor blesses anything you have, names it (based on the name you decide to give) and dedicates it to God. After which there is a small celebration with feasting. But the story of the name “Awa Naa” actually started before the dedication; it started when mama (whose real name is Toke Ajisafe) came to Lagos State.

Toke is lady from Aba Adi, a small town not too far from Osogbo in Osun State. She was the daughter of Late Chief Akin Ajisafe. He like his father was a cocoa farmer, who, due to longstanding deals with the chocolate making companies like Cadbury, had made a lot of money which he used to purchase his chieftaincy title, married three wives and had sixteen children.

Everyone thought she was a princess due to her naturally sweet smile, the complicated plaits on her hair, and the red beads she always wore. During the annual Osun-Osogbo festival along the River Osun, she always does the “mystical dance of the sacred forest”. It was during one of the festival celebration that she met Risi’s father (who she never married) while he was still a driver for some multinational company. He brought some oyinbo men for the festival.

Daleko Orisa, (Risi”s father) is an Ibadan man who told her all about Lagos. He spoke about the wide roads, the big buildings and the fashion style. As he had lived in Osogbo before, he frequently brought tourists from Lagos interested in visiting the attractions around their region. This brought him to their town frequently. Toke lost herself to this mysterious and charismatic man who spoke with the air of one that has seen the world.

She got pregnant with Risi when she was 25 years old. It was upon receiving the news from her mother that her father vowed to publicly disown her as his daughter, a statement that led her to flee and run to Lagos. That was the last time she ever saw her father alive; she was present at his funeral.

She moved in with Daleko to his “face-me-I-face-you” apartment in Ebute-Metta. A year after the birth of Risi, the joint income they earned was able to afford them a self-contained apartment in Bariga where she lives till date.

For a long time after moving to Lagos, Toke could not get a job or a decent means of livelihood as she had no significant formal education or vocational skill. So she sold akara and fried yam. Daleko was out of town most of the time, leaving just enough money for her to cater for herself and the growing needs of Risi. She used some of the money he gave her to purchase a bigger “agbada” frying pan, spoon, and a big jerry can of vegetable oil. Because of her good nature, the mallams that hawked on her street became her friend. She used this friendship to purchase yam on credit. As business grew, she started visiting the market to buy beans and cooking condiment. With the money they made, she and Daleko were able to maintain a pretty simple home for themselves.

But alas, disaster struck. Daleko, became a tanker driver for an Independent petroleum marketer. He lost his life in a tanker fire incident along the Benin-Ore express way. Risi was only 3 years old. With the N500,000 received as compensation for the loss of her husband along with support from her few friends, she started a small poultry on the single plot of land in Bariga that belonged to Daleko, which was a stone throw from where she lived. The poultry expanded, but her efforts towards expansion reduced when Risi resumed secondary school. She decided to close shop shortly after a major incident in Risi’s final year. An outbreak of “lorun-lorun” (head twisting) disease killed almost all the chickens. Mama, worn down by the stress of managing the poultry and supporting her daughter in secondary school counted her losses and sold off what was left of the poultry. She added to the proceeds, her fifteen years saving ‘ajo’ money, and chose to invest in what she loves doing best, cooking.

The buka started as a simple shed made out of what used to be the poultry. It had mama doing all the main cooking, assisted by two workers. Mama’s “jara” (extra) and liveliness made her the talk of Bariga bus stop. Not long afterwards, the shed became too small for the boom forcing her to create the structure she has today. She still dreams of the day when her buka will compete with the Mr Biggs Village Kitchen in Bariga and the class of Mama Cass.

The small ceremony held on the ground of the buka hosted her church pastor, some of her friends and about a handful of customers. Mama had never been good with English. Risi had spent the day coaching mama on her speech and an agreed name for the buka “Manna of life”.

The dedication ceremony for the buka began with the pastor giving a short sermon to extol the virtues of mama. He later called on mama to give a short speech and the name of the Buka for him to bless.
Mama upon hearing the speech was filled with flash-backs and thoughts raced through her mind “Se emi naa ni? Emi ni Oluwa ranti ? Oluwa e ma se o” (“Is this me? Is it me that God remembered? God thank you.”)
As these thoughts filled her mind, she was lost for words and became tearful and overwhelmed with emotion. What rolled out of a tearful Toke’s lips was the Yoruba song “♪Awa naa re Oluwa , Awa naa re Oluwa..a wa dupe ore atodun modun….♫”.
She hummed the song on and on, crying all through, with her daughter holding her. The pastor, who had seen Toke through all her struggles, was visibly touched and so was the crowd.

The atmosphere became laden with mixed emotions. It was as if her words spoke of them, all strangers in a harsh Lagos, lacking the right social structure and struggling to make ends meet;
They were all present in that gathering; bus conductors, okada-riders, bricklayers, shoe-shiners and traffic hawkers;
These are people who the formal economy barely remembers, so they turn to the comforting arms of religion for solace;
These are people so pushed by families, hopes and expectation of a better tomorrow. The song couldn’t say it better….“WE TOO…. are somebody”

That was how mama’s buka got the name “Awa Naa”.

I named him Ini..

2011-09-01T04:13:00.000-07:00

Wiggling your arms and legs

Grinning with ur toothless smile

Touching with your tiny fingers

Boy,it feels divine

I hold you close

With hope to always be there

To guard your steps,

Against life's trials and despair

The bone from my bone

The flesh from my flesh

The fruit from my body

The carrier of my crest

Your actions are innocent

Laddened with love

All new and refreshing,

With energy from above

Your eyes are clear

Sparkling white and bright

Your stares are intense

With hope, joy and light

The possibilities are endless

The roles you would hold

Be still and patient with God

By doing what you're told

In love for the 10th time

2011-06-04T16:30:00.000-07:00

It is always fascinating to watch a movie depicting the romantic relationship between two people. Contemporary media has a very grabbing way of describing how this feeling evolves.

It starts out with two seemingly unlikely individuals meeting
A mix of stories is brought into play conjuring up circumstances that creates a “spark” or some form of connection
Both later share moments that nurtures that spark; it could be an accidental kiss or a discussion in which certain emotions are revealed, or it could be just time spent together
To spice things up, we spin in a twist in which one of the individuals (usually the female) is made to question the love of the other
The other person (usually the male) then comes to the rescue, delivering an intense statement about the moments spent together and how he/she realized that they are standing face to face with the ONE. Their spark is revived with that special kiss (can you hear that soulful and electrifying music in the background?)

After watching for an hour thirty minutes, we are “educated” on new ways in which two people can meet the ONE they dream of, fall in “love”, get married and live happily ever after. Most romantic movies, (with little variation here and there), follow this template; though delivering a story that can make the pattern seem non-existent.

Don’t get me wrong I love romantic movies.

I loved when Tristan danced with Yvaine aboard the thunder capturing ship (in the movie “Star dust”) and she (being a star) glows and giggles. It was magical how she glowed when she asked him if he was tempted by lure of eternal life.
Giselle song “How do you know” to Robert, and her last glance at him after the beautiful dance to Jon McLaughlin’s “So close” was, just as the name of the movie goes, “Enchanted”.

But is there a possibility that more and more of these movies re-wire us to think of love in terms of youthfulness and sparks? Let us face it; very few people in this world possess their own original opinion on issues. Opinion leaders recycle/synthesize other opinions till they arrive at a conclusion that seems to resonate with what they think reality should be. The rest of the world just follows what the main stream says. And when the main stream says we run, we ask how far?

So when the media gives a suggestion about what relationship is all about, people act based on their interpretation of what they heard. If the world continually uses the lens of contemporary media for its definition of what love is, it might affect some relationships in areas of longevity as people interpret the lack of a “spark” for incompatibility.

On a personal note, it has been 3 years since I met her. It was exciting as we explored each other’s routines and developed our combined motions. Then the thrills of a 1^st kiss and holding hands and just getting to understand someone who thought the world about you (maybe because she didn’t know better.lol). Marriage, which was a year ago, led to uncharted territory. If I look forward to that thrills of a 1^st kiss again, I could be destroying the foundation of a wonderful home and even the mental stability of a role model in the next generation.

Instead our desires should be towards a deeper bond; one that provides the other, the required support for dealing with the pressures of everyday life while maintaining an inner balance. It should be towards understanding each other’s visions and working out ways in which we can accomplish all we hope to achieve. We should be conceptualizing methods towards opening up the pathways to each other’s souls. In this process entangling our minds to a point where they are no longer separable.

And that should be the desire and mark of fulfillment in all relationships. The world should celebrate couples who are able to hold on through thick and thin, because the solid foundation of the histories we treasured were build on people who endured and developed characters under harsh conditions.

I think that should be the renewed focus of contemporary media; reminding people of the joy of falling in love again, even for the 10^th time.

What I am here for

2011-05-24T13:34:00.000-07:00

When I see what I feel is wrong,

I sometimes want to speak

Other times I want to act

But I would be the first to move if I did

And if I am, what does it mean?

The one who stands against what we have learnt to believe

What we have been told is right to love and hate

The elders have reminded the people holding contrary opinions, to shoves those thoughts aside as its hold no water in the scheme of things

So everyone act normal, based on their definition of what being normal is

They have been schooled in how things should operate and strive for perfection in climbing the corporate ladders

In this quest for success, they take actions that stands against what their very essence tell them is right,

Denying who they truly are,

Denying humanity of the beauty they can release from within their soul

The enforcers of how we currently live have forgotten that the current order was birth from rebellion

It was birth by people who questioned the system of things and decided on better methods of doing things

And it is from this travail that civilizations were born

Civilizations rose and were conquered by men and women who decided that normal was not enough

They experienced something within that became such a reality, that contrary circumstance could not convince them otherwise

Such experience made them decide that what they saw much be established

I think I will speak out and give voice to what I believe- Even careless words and questions could be a source of lesson for me and those that listen to my words for inspiration

I think, my actions will be motivated by my convictions rather than peer pressure-My actions may not change the world, but they may inform those who can, to do so

In all, I think I will just be myself-My reward may not be material, but by my actions, I will satisfy that deep longing within my spirit to follow the instruction of that timeless still and small voice

I think I will fulfill what I am here for, as this is the essence of my life

21st of July

2011-04-25T06:43:00.000-07:00

It was his only chance to get out alive.

He jumped out the window, knowing the entrance to the flat was surrounded.

….And he ran like he had never run before!

The memories of the event populated his thoughts, confusing his steps as he ran along the streets: destination unknown!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had ransacked the whole place, collected all that was collectable and tied the couple together in the centre of the room

“ONLY N50,000? OH BOY THIS NA BAD JOB. SOLO, MAKE YOURSELF A MAN! WHEN LIFE GRABS YOUR BALLS, YOU BURST THE BALLS OF THE NEXT MAN. NA YOU GO EX THESE PEOPLE!!!” was the instruction of Emmanuel.

Solomon's shaking hands aimed and shot at the head a begging man. As the man stumbled, his wife screamed and he shot her too.

The whole thing took about 10 seconds, but that moment, felt like eternity…

The bullet left the barrel with a loud noise “bang” shooting through the air, heading for the target….

He remembered the words of Emmanuel as they planned the attack “the guy is like 32 sha. He lives around Igando. We know commandant for that area, so no be big issue. Tona na your car we go use”

The man had a look of plea in his face, as he witnessed his own death…..

“ No wahala. I suppose take the car go Cotonou go sell after. They say the maga na oil worker. Dem boys gats kishi. If that guy no prepare, he fit get N500,000 for house. Na small job. We fit carry Solo come” Tona added

The bullet pierced into his skull, tearing open the flesh and blood vessels, lifting up the man from his feet….

“Yeae paripa… I don kill person. Na so person dey die? Oh Boy I don become murderer! Solo, concentrate na him business jo, I gats to chop! Na these people get money pass, na dem spoil country for us! I gats to chop” he thought to himself

Bang! Bang! Bang! Was the sound of his gun as three bullets were squeezed from the barrel of his gun into the neck of the wife, permanently silencing her

“Solo, our elders say the one that befriends the Cobra and makes him play dead, is the one town crier would call the hero.” Was his dad last statement to him as he departed for Lagos

She slumped on to the body of her husband with no care of her nudity…her body….lifeless

“Solomon, you can’t do this forever! How those babes go dey look us? You no fit dey dey do mechanic work anymore. You pass that one well” was Samson’s luring line to Solo in every effort to entice his younger brother

A visibly shaken Solomon dropped the gun as his thoughts were interrupted by a gun shot, “RATATATATATATA!!!!”

…was the next thing he heard as the glass door (that covered the stairways) scattered next to him

“OPC PEOPLE DON LAND!!” Emmanuel screamed

Even as Emmanuel beckoned on him to wait, Solomon ran straight to the next room, which was a toilet and locked the door; his heart beating like it was about burse.

He climbed out from the window’s toilet and jumped two storeys down on to the bonnet of a black sedan parked in the drive way.

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They hadn’t thought OPC vigilante members would respond quickly,

they hadn’t thought the man would have only N50,000 in the house,

they…in fact they hadn’t thought about a lot of thing.

And Solomon was now an outlaw. He broke entry into a guarded property. He had the blood of two innocent people on his hands!!!
This is not the life he every planned for!!

He ran aimlessly on the street hoping that he would see someone or something that he recognizes …..

“BANG! BANG!! BANG!!!!”

Immediately he heard that sound, all the lights went out...........

Kissing Hadiza

2011-03-09T03:52:00.001-08:00

Just as classes ended, I summoned the courage
She was enrolled in June and August is fast approaching,
Yet I hadn't said a word
Today she wasn’t with Taiwo
The coolest boy in our class
Taiwo had a 504 and he takes her to Pintos most Fridays after lesson
Taiwo brother sends him $50 every month so he kind of is the biggest boy in town

She has dark hair and fresh dark skin
And there is something different about her looks
But even in that, what attracted me to her, I don’t know
Was it because she wore those black leggings, and does braids without the fear of any teacher harassing?
Or was it because she dated an SS3 boy before?
Or maybe it was her striking similarity with my childhood fantasy Kimberly Drummond (Dana Plato) from different stroke (only blacker)?
..or her name……. “Hadiza”?
Or was it how she said it “Her.di.za”?

I had been working on our hook up, since the 1st time I saw her
I had quietly studied her routines and figured out, Thursday was right to make a move
Taiwo would be having Agric science classes today
And we would be together in social studies

When I woke up, I took out my best clothes
The hood top dad bought from London
Ironed my Levi jeans
And my black boots
Stole my uncle’s Tommy Hilfiger perfume
And pat my chin with a dab of Methylated Spirit
Almost put on my Ray Bann glasses but my brother said no:

“As a home boy, it is about your lyrics
You gats to give her lyrics
‘Hadiza, I want to talk, you know wat I’m saying. I want you to be my special girl’
Look in her eyes and Give her the Boyz II Men, ‘I’ll make love to you’ flow!
‘♫♫Girl relax, let's go slow
I ain't got nowhere to go
I'm just gonna concentrate on you
Girl, are you ready♪♫’
Boi, she will trip”

So I waited till it was break-time
The stroll to her seat (four desk away) kept my heart thumping
As she was about to get up, I grabbed her wrist
She looked at me startled, calling out my nickname “Professor, what do you want?”
Wondering what this strange boy, who never talks to anyone, will be disturbing her for

I shivered as I heard her speak
The whole class stopped and looked
I think she sensed my intentions as all I could reply was
“Do you have the social studies assignment of yesterday?”

She smiled and said quietly “I know you have it, but just want to talk to me, abi?”
I nodded, speechless.
As she took me through the exercises, her hand touched mine
When she finished, I thanked her and she smiled again and said those precious words
“Anytime dear”
I beamed from those words

My brother would hear a different story when I get home
He would hear about how I kissed Hadiza.

Defining Success

2011-03-01T12:51:00.000-08:00

“A man who worked as a ticketing officer in a theme park died. When he got to heaven, he was asked to choose the type of heaven he wants to spend eternity in. Since he never really liked his life, his began to explore all the possible heavens he had secretly lusted after through his seemingly (in his own point of view) meaningless life. To help him decide, a presentation was shown of his life. At the end of the presentation, he came up conclusion:
The only heaven where he could make a meaning was to remain a ticketing officer at a theme park”
Source: Unknown

We all have a misconception about what success is. And this misconception spurs from all the information we have been loaded with over the years. The average individual is bombarded with over 8 billion unit of information daily. Like a puzzle, the brain attempts using the information it processes (approximately 250 million of that) as guide to understanding the world, and in developing survival strategies.

In our myopic view of the world, we have come to associate success with things that everyone can associate with; things we love to happen. Wealth and career progression are some of such. And this standard is hidden in the information we process, the methods we apply in drawing conclusions, how we converse, how we develop expectations and pass judgments.

But what truly is success? When can we say a man has become greater than himself? Within each one of us lies than desire imbedded within our consciousness. Once a child becomes conscious of its environment, there is a sparks within (sometimes doused in competition) to aspire above understanding of self within the known world. Because of our mental mapping, we use information available to define what that means; and there lies the root of our problem. A problem because, if success is restricted to only those who are, wealthy, experts in influencing people, excellent sales men, and leaders, then less than 5% of the population would truly live successful lives. The remaining 95% would be locked in a mechanical struggle toward attaining what the society conceives as ‘successful’ (a struggle capable of removing the essence of living from life) especially when intentions/ priorities are wrongly placed; when they don’t align the individual’s true conviction of self.

The degree to which a civilization succeeds is determined by how purposeful it is; how aligned its vision is with the character of the people forged by their fundamental nature. Reason being that purpose remains the greatest motivator and organizer of labour; everyone doing what he is convinced he was born to do. If life is a script, success is playing your part, whatever that part might be. It is in understanding that our individual configurations are different, so our aspiration should be dictated by self and not by standards; by what we internally are convinced summarized our life purpose.

Till we pass on, our central purpose would remain to discover what our purpose truly is, as all we know is what has happened. What will happen is still a mystery that can only be harnessed when we prepare; when we prepare by
• listening to ourselves to understanding what we are made of
• Making our search for all knowledge be about discovering who we are (not mapping out what we should desire).

In the Spirit of a Revolution

2011-02-11T16:02:00.000-08:00

One day our thoughts will count.
They will echo along the corridors of kings
Dictating the general orders
and revolting against the establishment that trods upon our will

We will speak of our burdens and all would listen
They will hear our thoughts and would align their actions regardless of tribe or ethnic background
and we will speak in one voice

Our voices will act like symbols,
motivating all to move in patterns they are most conversant with
taking action when they should,
making art if they can
and standing against oppression if they must

It will be the alure of freedom that will motivate
to make men understand that their destiny lies in the hands of whom they give it to
And they are capable of having a belief and sticking to it

Till the right thoughts are formed
I will prepare
Prepare for the day we would change our world!!!

Anti-Mubarak protesters in Tahrir Square standing for what he believed.

11-02-2011-he was finally removed after 30 years in power!

Sound in Music

2010-12-29T08:12:00.000-08:00

If you listen to a song deep enough you can almost here the sound of its origins.

The beats echoing the ramblings of souls

Within it, the words of the ancestors are felt
Along with their observations of the world around them

Their passion, their values, and even their essence
Capturing aspects of the human experience that our physical senses are not robust enough to articulate

The listeners are unknowingly responding to codes that unlock natures within their depth

The rhythm of a song is capable of changing a man into a movement within in a dance,
into the alphabet in the words,
And the silence interval in the melody

Music re-invents men and aligns their spirits with the souls of the composer

This knowledge makes one fact clear:

Man is capable of listening only to himself; who he is or is becoming

Interpretation of a Dream

2010-11-02T08:27:00.000-07:00

I am one of the few people who enjoy traffic in Lagos. I enjoy the moment when I get on the 3rd mainland, crossing over to the “fast” lane (which usually turns out to be the slowest). It might be a survival instinct, but I have learnt to savour every moment of that ride.

But what is there to enjoy?

Well for one, my Nigerian siblings are calmer. Everyone is very aware of the metal restrictions all around, forcing a more orderly behaviour than they would normally have. And in this environment of tranquility, I am given that rare opportunity to put things in perspective: to see things for what they are and build up a desire of how things should be.

To my right is a Toyota Corrolla, and seated at the back seat (or the “the owner’s corner”) is a light skinned man (most likely of the Yoruba extract). He was driven by a young lad in a white shirt and a red tie that kept a straight face and tried too much not “to upset oga”. The “owner” kept a straight face as he glossed through the dailies, with his head up and an attitude of accomplishment. His appearance embodied the Nigerian delusion of success.

· Possibly just flew down from a meeting in Cyprus and is on his way for a meeting with some senators (on some contract that no one would feel the impact, but he would get awarded for)

· Possibly lives in Victoria Island. His wife owns a store for kid’s ware in Pees Galleria and is currently setting up a crèche in Old Ikoyi for her children.

· He is an icon of respect and EVERYONE WANTS TO BE LIKE HIM!!!

As I observe the likes of “owner corner” baron, it occurred to me that this man could have desired something else. It seems such a trivial thought, but how we overlook such powerful consideration in the quest for survival.

Maybe, he always wanted to be a gym instructor. Maybe he was considered a strange child, one with an obsession on weight gain and loss. He might have excelled in Physical education and joined all the clubs passionately promoting health education and fitness in his small community. But when he got older, weighed down by the pressures of life, he sought the route most travelled. To gain the approval of his family, and fend for himself, he sought after the roles that appealed to all his contemporaries.

So even though his heart desired something else, even though he knows he his better equipped to handle something apparently trivial, what I observe is a man that fit a definition of achievement.

And this is what caused this traffic!! This is the result of a generation blindly aspiring after a definition of success; chasing to do what they are not equipped to do. All this is fueled by a lie:

“Success is only achieved against all odd, it is only achieved when you follow the paths of our successful fathers”

But what if he had chased his dream? What if he remained in Akure as a gym instructor? What if he married Kemi his childhood sweetheart, not Biola, the mysterious girl? What would his life have been like? Would his focus have being to “buy with money what has been created”, or “creating what money can buy”? Putting things into perspective, who would he have become?

I believe a society that functions is a product of many dreams. Every functioning society is beyond doing what is right, beyond learning from the best teachers. Rather it is rooted in the something more fundamental. Communities that soar are those who can desire and in this mist, articulate their essence in the grand scheme of things. Their essence results from everyone chasing personal desires, and by this, crystallizes a reality that can nurture the skills required to sustain the next generation.

And these desires are results of personal experiences; they are personal responses to challenges the environment presents, changing with every new generation. In a sense, a society that will survive is one that can accurate capture the dreams within their environment provide the environment to harness it; in other words, societies that can accurately interpret its' dreams.

Not until, this dawns in our consciousness, not until we are able to glean this reality, we would be stuck in traffic, on this crowded road to success, (dying inside, revolving against the establishment, angry with the next man) at the expense of who we truly are; at the expense of the real Nigerian Spirit.

...in 90 words

2010-10-08T14:32:00.001-07:00

Enjoy what you eat

Experience harsh realities;

they are only around to expose hidden truths

Find a family and stick to them;

they always provide bearing and help to reminder us our stance in the grand scheme of things

Treat all strangers with respect even in their folly,

as by such you might capture the only wisdom they possess

Always seek for the road less traveled,

for it is by this quest that mankind has advanced

Overall, be the best you can be.

You might only live to be 90

Form

2010-10-08T13:54:00.000-07:00

There is a part of me that is physical
It is my form
Found in my face and my stature
Tall, Brown skinned, sleepy eyes, long finger, soft palms
All set to remind you of my roots
And to the simple minded, that is all I am

But there is more to me than what your senses can observe
There are secrets and experiences unknown to those that observe
There are hidden talents that would be uncovered over my lifetime
But all that is cage within this form

In a world overloaded with information,
that sacred part can be lost
Where I am told to overlook my instincts and follow the popular path
Because of the fear of the unknown, I conform

But even in my crowded walk,
I am drawn to the word of that still voice
I am always reminded of His timeless words

“You are more than form, you are spirit
Don’t rely on every information, rely on Me, your inspiration”

LET'S CHANGE THE PLATFORM!!!

2010-08-30T02:50:00.000-07:00

October 1, 1960: By an act of the British Parliament, Nigeria became an independent country. Late Dr Nnamdi Azikiwe was installed as the governor general of the federation and Sir Abubakar Tafa Balewa served as head of the democratically elected parliamentary government.

October 1, 1963: The Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria was adopted, thereby making Nigeria a republic. At the same time, Nigeria became a member of the Commonwealth and Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe of the NCNC took office as first Nigerian's first President.

January 15, 1966: A group of officers led by Lt Kaduna Nzeogwu overthrew the government and installed Major General Agunyi Ironsi as head of state; an act that initiated Nigeria into a series of military regimes and crippled the emerging democraticPLATFORM – THE PLATFORM which our founding fathers designed to govern the Nigeria state.

33 years of these nine military administrations (to include of the two puppet democratically selected administrations of Alhaji Shehu Shagari and Ernest Shonekan) radically altered the Nigeria nature to an extent that are challenged in institutionalizing an home-grown democracy.

Of them all, one of the most significant impact was the civil war, fought between 6 July 1967–15 January 1970, during the administration of Lt. Col. Yakubu Gowon. After a period of unrest and ethnic clashes, the south eastern region of Nigeria (led by Colonel Odumegwu Ojukwu) spearhead a secession from Nigeria into a new Republic of Biafra (an act violently resisted by the Federal Government of Nigeria).

The atrocities committed sowed a seed that militated against our vision of “One nation bound in freedom, peace and unity”. People began to see themselves as individuals, and communities, as nations divided by ethnic background. They believed that success is not dependent on collective effort rather “whatever would be, would be”. We lost hope and believed that we are dispensable parts of a system out of human control. The national character that resulted from these shocks was such that our communal identity and approach was completed transformed

The emerged character was one which lacked vision; a character that still depends on guidance from the colonial masters in formulating rules and regulations
The character was violence, rebellious and incapable of producing results; all our basic necessities are products that creative minds abroad
it was one that traded it inheritance for a “morsel of meat”, one that trades its natural resources for basic comfort of life (instead of developing competency to provide such)
it was one were intellectual content was divorced from national building; a nation where scholastic topics were excluded from discussions of the elite

A character that no longer trusted it inherent skills, no longer desired to understand its divine purpose; one that chased wealth without human emotions, moral justification or ethical backing.

Even in all these, there is redemption. We are part of bringing a new Nigeria that would deliver “what eyes have not seen, and ear have not heard”. As Nigeria turns 50, we are changing that character:

We are pushing for a character revolution to challenges the current order. One not enforced by violence means, but by spirits relying on something greater
We are forcing minds to rely less on institutions and look within for that still voice saying “this is the way to go, walk in it”
we are collating hidden wisdom nuggets and working out ways to discover how they can be applied in our dealings of mundane issues
We are encouraging all to see the beauty in the works of our collective hands; beauty that is revealed when we find our purpose and trust in the intelligence that crafted us, to help in accomplishing it

This is the new Nigeria. We are changing the PLATFORM!!!

October 2, 2010. Join us

For more information, visit www.theplatformnigeria.com

Patterns of the Stereotype

2010-05-27T08:39:00.000-07:00

I once saw them at a distant
I cringed as they performed their rituals
They made sounds that had a rhythm I couldn’t understand
And a melody that held no resonances with music I was familiar with
But all that was at the beginning of their rhythm
Cos at the tail end, I led the chorus of the song

I once saw them as a primitive people with strange idiosyncrasies
All caught up in doing things that had no bearing to what really matter
Till I sensed it
That moment when it all crystallized
My purpose, my essence and how I had been positioned to make known what is within me

All journeys like this one starts out with us having obvious differences,
It always starts out with us trying to mix like oil in cold water,
But with time and the pressures of living, our differences become less apparent

It was here I found my calling
It was here that that I began to engage my senses and began to blossom from within
And as I continued in purpose, outsiders found it harder to know where I start, and where they begin,
Cos in our harmony, we spoke with one voice

I had become familiar with their ways and what they stood for
I had began to appreciate the intelligence in their gatherings and the logic behind their chaos
I began to know that it is in their mist I can matter
I now see how I can become their anchor
How strangers would soon begin to refer me as the incumbent; the one that defines the pattern in their stereotype

Avatar

2010-05-27T08:35:00.000-07:00

Within your depth, I am led to an experience
An experience both strange and familiar to me
Strange in daily manifestation; familiar in it usual rituals
But filled with interactions that renew my soul

It is from this interaction that your words emerged within me taking a personality of its own in my sub-conscious,
A personality I am in constant conversation with even during your absence

It is this personality that stays with me, as I go about in daily chores
It is this personality that provide words to help me understand the times and how to navigate my way towards a preferred future, or rise about circumstances that stand against me
It is with these words I am able in hold on to the unseen with hope, believing that in life’s daily routines, I am enriched with the strength I need to actualize the tomorrow I crave

Our continual conversation has forged a union ordained by the Divine
A union that provides the conviction that you will always be there
Cos during physical encounters I become aware of one truth,
We are one spirit expressing one idea, in our different forms

Me

2010-05-27T08:28:00.000-07:00

It is not uncommon for me to secretly lust after his achievements
And be green with envy as he talks about his accomplishments
In our gatherings, he is the man about town
Controlling the atmosphere and pulling everyone to his presences
There is just something about him that I want to be

As my mind races about looking at what I am not
I sometimes overlook this simple truth;
there is something that is essentially me
And the world would be empty without

There would be one less aspiring poet
working to convey thoughts on everything in words
laced with wisdom of the simple,
I won’t be here to question ritual behind traditions
and review our presence in the time and space
There would be no me to rank everything in a mathematical order
and quantify every emotion
Or approaches topic with a childlike nature that yearns for the logic behind everything there is
I would be trying to be someone else

The essence of who I am must have been coined up by the divine in His desire to fulfill a purpose And in this desire, he decided that I must come,
Experience life as this being,
Battle with personal weaknesses
And appreciate my mortality as a steward on a mission to fulfill that directive set before me
The content of all will be reveal at an appointed time
It is only in with this realization that who I am is someone unique,
can I achieve fulfillment and be satisfied in the work of my hand

My soul beamed when I realized this truth,
I no longer see the need to ascribe his winnings to luck
Or join as the crowd in mocking the source of his wealth
Nor do I develop methods to measure our individual achievements and grade them (on that selfish quest to test the fairness of life)
This revelation became clearer when I explored his source and discovered
he is a man who built his life on one simple principle:
“All that is beautiful lies in being me”

Random Thought

2010-05-27T08:26:00.000-07:00

English is spoken using 26 alphabets to construct words
These words have meaning and are structured to convey ideas
We convey our ideas through conversation with one another
As it is with this method that we can truly connect who we are with one another

Our Ideas emerge from observing the world around us
And what we observe helps in forging an impression
Multiple impressions create a thought processes which gives everyone of us a perspective of what is and what should be

Individual thought processes are one-sided, because we are only able to focus on what we sense as important
And also because what sense, is within the boundaries of rationality and limited by what we observe and what we can conclude

What if all our conversations could be merged into one long dialogue,
Fused into one big book?
We would have a speech of everything there is to say
A document containing every idea that there ever has been,
As every idea will be unified to form one logical point
And it will be clear to see that misunderstandings in today’s world result from different perspective as human’s stray from the Divine order

Humanity’s last hope lies in that book
Because the essence of what it contains, would be all that is Human

Expressions of Care

2010-05-27T08:18:00.000-07:00

I believe the foundation of a marriage rest on a life that you share
The strength of that life is holding to God,
He along gives us with the challenges we can bear

From these challenge emerge pleasures of one another,
perfected when both partners stay near
When they are willing to hear
And still remain sincere.

It is important to accept that your responsibilities are to shield one another from individual fears

And build homes that are sanctuaries, with each member being there
But all this happens when your home is love,

and love becomes possible when there are expressions of care

I speak for Nigeria

2010-05-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

Acts 4:11- “This is the stone which was set at the nought of you builders which become the head of the corner”

I speak for Nigeria.
The Settlers around the Niger
Those whose essence hasn’t been captured by written literature
Yet their presences will produce the reality of the global economy we shall live in
Our history is one where the Hausa & Kanem-Bornu Empires reigned in the Northern Caliphate While the kingdoms of Benin/Yoruba dominated the Southern territories,
The Central regions lay claim to Bantu/Nok ancestries,
At a time when the Igbo were mystified with folklore originating from the ideals of Nri & Aguleri

I speak for the middle class Nigerian
Those that travel daily along 1-3rd Mainland, Apapa or the Lekki Express,
Or the people found in the road rage of Trans-Amadi
And those Kubwa residence, in that rat race that sends then daily to Asokoro
All in a struggle to protect that semblance of life and how they conceptualize it to be
Even as the environment stands against them and all they believe
I speak for those in that 4 hours daily commute
Whose every increase has to be fought for and protected against quacks and thieving ruler Leaders
who exchange their natural heritage for instant pleasures
And create wealth for themselves in foreign lands at the expense of the people who trust in their wisdom
I speak for a people whose survival depends on how much they understand of every discipline that affect their life
Having to apply that understanding under the sun that they know, in the management of mundane task
Who have to burn candle at both ends to please the ones they love,
make proud their parents and provide for their offspring
Or those forced to make that tireless search for quality in everything they require

Your time will soon appear
When it come, your people will marvel as it is unveiled who you really are
What you have developed in the chaos will be displayed by kings
And you will be made proud by the creation of your strength
Your strength lies in being who you were made to be
Being patient and caring not cunning and crafty
Being fair and loving not greedy and deceitful
And realizing that what you can become will be evident when you realize who you are

As this enlightenment sips into our national consciousness,
Reorientation emerges challenging all thinking lined with mediocrity
Before you know, the environment will embrace the new Nigeria
And the cursed amongst us will be relegated to the back
To enable those capable of being themselves allow
Nigeria become the Giant of Africa
Till we birth that vision,
I will proclaim what I am proud of:

Middle class Nigeria - the stone that was cast away by the builder, getting set to become the corner stone.

That day is coming

2009-10-21T11:35:00.000-07:00

There are many things I believe in, but one thing I know, it is what we visualize that we can actualize

Our history as a nation has been plagued with many experiences,

Experiences to challenge us,

Challenges that make us search within for that inner revelation,

To remind us that we are is what we make of our existence

I might be naïve but I believe current events are not experiences in isolation,

There are implications deeper than our rational minds are able to conceptualize,

The cosmos has designed our path to ensure what we birth together is beyond what currently is,

The idea is for our generation to bring forth a Nigeria that works,

And I see it coming

The day is coming when our youth will pursue the desires of their heart and not rely solely on the vain advice of their peers,

Not chase the desires of the main stream, but engage in those unique causes that relieves their burdened souls,

It will be a nation that engages the strength of the strong,

The courage of the bold,

Harnesses the wisdom of the elders

To protects the weak, and rear its offspring

Everyone would have a family they can point to,

A household where father will be faithful,

Mothers will be selfless

And children will be true

We would have families creating enterprises

And parents leaving behind an inheritance for the generations coming

This would be one where families stand as units and contribute their effort to build a community they love

The communities they build would be designed on principles that enable individuals and households alike achieve deeds; deeds capable of reinforcing those elements required for self sustainability.

Our communities would be divided into units that can attend to different aspects of our collective needs

As some units farm,

Other will teach,

As some entertain, other will manufacture,

As some of distribute, other will finance

Every unit will provide support that will sustain our concept of life and how we envision we would live it

And they would be rewarded

Not for their class, or affiliations,

But for their efforts

Our communities would minimize involvement in cultural activities as there are little benefits that can derived from such

Those functions would be restricted to marking milestone

They would be used to mark significant events, rather than as a display of opulence or a proof of good things to come.

In the place of these flamboyant ceremonies, we would invest our finance, passion and minds in the development of trade relevant for self actualization and community building.

That day is coming, when our leaders will be philosophers and our politicians, men of insight,

They would create visions that engages the natural, cultural strengths of communities

They would develop policies that unleashes the enterprising nature of the average Nigerian

They would understand the pride in creating a nation capable of attending to its need

That time, our farmer would feed us,

Our teacher will train our children,

Our engineers will construct our bridges

And the wealth we create would not be found in the land of strangers

That will be the time the giant of Africa will awake.

I visualize a future, where I would be proud to be a Nigerian.

Junkies

2009-08-10T00:32:00.000-07:00

It gets windy at night
And when it does he goes to his favourite spot, somewhere along Jalingo Street,
He squats behind the abandoned blue sedan with his legs resting on the wall
He lights up the joint,
Opening the entrance to his Junkie Heaven

During the day, he encounters stares as he strolls in his only apparel, that torn brown sagging combat trousers that exposes his pubic to the view of all willing to see,
His collection of scrap, gathered during these strolls, are exchanged for money,
Money that is later used to buy dope and food
In the evening, he returns back to Jalingo Street,
For that spark that leads to Junkie Heaven.
And to begin his journey again…

But Tuesday was different,
Nobody could hear that sob, that sound of a tormented soul hovering back and forth experiencing ecstatic pleasures known only to those that indulge,
There wasn’t the usual clattering of cans and discarded mental as Hamad drags his most precious items in preparation of tomorrow’s supply
In two days, we all began to get worried on what befell dear Hamad
There are too many possibilities we could conceptualize
But as human, there are limits to the scenarios we can construct
Remember, rationality has boundaries

Boundaries that are further limited in the absence of our Hamad,
A reminder of the worse that can happen to a man
He puts in the minds of our offspring the idea of that thin line between humanity and the beast, forcing them to act in their best
Visualizing the lower limits of human evolution gets us up in the morning
It is with this knowledge that we developed mean to diligent manage our lives and construct our community
Hamad weakness, ignites us to aspire

In his desires to rise above his demons, he frequents the abode of the reformers with that cry for help
Their remedy to him is just enough to return back in a state, worse off that he started
At every attempt to break free, he is remind of the shackles on his wrist and disastrous covenants made during his years of innocence
They tell him of unattainable goals and targets he can’t achieve
And this forces him back to Jalingo street
A feat that keeps the reformer employed

Our search party went into action to find him lying by the riverside, overdosed
We gathered together and attended to his wounds
Against his will, he was treated and restored,
Restored to return back to his hopelessness
Which was our desire because:
- in it we find hope
-in it we find our desire to rise
- in his hopelessness we sparks our joint,
And opens the gate to our junkie heaven.

The Coming New World Order

2009-07-16T13:05:00.000-07:00

Thou, oh king sawest and behold a great image. Whose brightness was excellent and stood before thee; and the form was terrible. This image’s head was of fine gold, and his breast and arms of sliver, his belly and his thighs of brass…….
Thou sawest till a stone that was cut without hands which smote the image upon his feet and were the iron and clay and brake them to pieces………….
……………….and the stone that smote the image became a great mountain that filled the earth.
----------Daniel 2: 31-35

The desire to meet the needs and requirements is what makes men organize.
Understanding that needs and requirement are not static, is what makes the style of governance evolves.
I feel capitalism is dying
I feel a new generation craves a new world order.

The flaw that crippled the initial empires (ruled by kings and the heirs) was the inability to transfer understanding through generation.
Such led to moral decadence and inability of the heir in upholding the basic principles that positioned and made their ancestors.
Receiving power too early also created distance between the heirs and the people they rule as they couldn't tap into their heartbeats;
It made their souls clamour for something new.
The desired to be functional and to be integrated into the main stream;
Their scope of thinking felt that was all was required to have a fruitful existence.
Equality was on the lips;
The desire for socialism was born.

Socialism leads to the creation of massive infrastructures and large institutions.
But it lacked that human element; it opened room for complacency.
Citizens felt entitled to what they received; they had no vision because they had no hunger.
Mass welfare provided just enough.
Again the soul knew it needed more.
It needed people to take initiative.
People would no longer be products of what society dictates but what they desire to achieve and will be rewarded for it.
Capitalism was born in this dilemma.
Survival of the fittest became a quest to live, by any means.
The creative torch was revived and peaked but lost as individuals tried to monetize all they saw.
Stock market crashed, global economic meltdown, and credit crunch became the result of people trying monetizing everything around them.
The message that has been sent down the tunnels of time is one that has been delayed for a long time; it is a message people knew must be said but no one had the courage to say it;
CAPITALISM CANNOT SUSTAIN!

I believe that the divine has a reason why systems of governance had to evolve like this.
I believe it is essential that before the coming of a new order, society must be convinced that certain methods of organizing people cannot be maintained.
It must be understood that the only way a society can be led is when the enlightened are positioned in areas of their strength to make decision.
Between transiting from one style,
The poets would be burdened with poems,
Singer willl sing,
Artist must paints,
All in an effort express that inner conviction that is something wrong.
All sort of artistic expression would ignite people to act to collaboratively change the world around them.

The new world I see is one where passion would determine who does what.
Everyone would realize that they are entitled to only the value they contribute.
People would work in their area of strength with no rivalry.
The Government & religious bodies would work in unity to put meaning into where the society is going,
to and put life into the objective people set for themselves
They would receive voluntary contributions from the functional units within the society.
This fund would be used for welfare, crime management and social integration programs.

Companies will be setup to focus on implementing the vision their founders passionately sought to achieve.
They would voluntarily invest in infrastructure and education of the young (the potential leaders and future employees).
Because their visions are fueled with passion, services they provided would not be spurred out of response to competitive action, but out of a desire to actualize something within.
Employees would see their jobs as a learning ground; places where they can get hold of their passion, set up their own businesses and create new opportunities for the next generation.
The new world order would achieve all that the ancestors aimed to achieve:
• Legacy,
• General literacy
• And creativity
But it would do something different, position the right people in the right place at the right time. I see that as the future.
I see that as our peak, in the evolution of man.

Never ending Rhythm

2009-06-26T00:57:00.000-07:00

Think of a life & think of a melody

everyone is a Beat

A Beat is the sound that we bring

It is the sound of our work

as we till the earth for substance

It is the sound of our essence

the sound we make during interactions

Each Beat is who we are

An appearance of similarity

embodied in perfection

Yet unique in expression

All part of a song

A song that has been weaved up since creation

with every action resulting in a different flavour to the eventual sound

Though every Note made destines out to accomplish a personal purpose,

There is no awareness that it's ways are being orchestrated by the divine to sound in harmony with the times of the song

With every death, the tune changes

The melody loses a Beat

Even when replaced,

The New never sounds like the Old

With these departures,

the new Beats that are born ushers in a new era,

a new melody,

a new sound, in the melody of life.

(Dedicated to Micheal Joseph Jackson, August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009)

All time favourite Movies

2009-06-14T10:31:00.000-07:00

Fight Club

Adaptation

Truman Show

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Stranger than Fiction

In my opinion, these films are timeless classics.

Does that say anything about me?

Becoming

2009-06-12T02:21:00.000-07:00

Who am I?
I ask myself that question,
‘Cos who I am is not static,
It is an evolving experience,

I know who I was,
I know who I have been,
But I am not sure who I am.

It is not written what I am yet to experience
And how my reaction would affect my version of reality
How it would open a new part of me
Revealing hidden strengths and weakness
And with that transformation,
The manifestation of a new me

So when I tell you this is who I am,
Be sure to know that I am referring to who I was,
Cause I don’t know what I am becoming

Whisperer

2009-05-28T00:24:00.000-07:00

The loudest words are heard in the silence,
At that point when nothing else can be heard,
It might be a whisper,
But it is capable of charging the atmosphere
And making men act with an objective in mind

To a passerby, all statements appear to be a mixture of vowels & consonants used to create words in sentences
But we know better
The ears of the observer interprets statement that resonates with their core belief system
By testing the use of words and the underlying logic
His eye looks at charm, the charisma and confidence
The brain fuses within us what these senses noticed,
A belief system is formed,
The observer imagines,
The observer is convinced
The observer acts

The average person overlooks what lies in the heart of the speaker
People forget that behind those words lie internal conversations
Lies individuals dealing with mundane person issues, common to everyone alive

Men dealing with depression,
Asking that age old question: “What is the point of my life?”
He tries to improve the state of their health, his weight & work life balance,
In secret he punishes himself for the failures of his children
And boast about his wife’s beauty,
With a fair yardstick, he gives judgment on himself for actions that go unnoticed

Amidst these trivialities are great ideal designed,
Men are refined to synchronies words with demeanor
This is how value within is born
And it is from this value that, earth changing words emerge

But in a world lost to its own values and warped belief,
It is only a whisper loudest in the ear of those that can hear

On Spoken Words

2009-04-24T07:14:00.001-07:00

I have noticed something about us, Nigerians; and I find it in spoken words.

During conversation with foreigners (someone speaking a different accent of English, most either of the Americans or the British), pronunciation of words change.
The average uncouth Nigerian begins to speak in what he or she assumes is the accent of the other person in the conversation.
Immediately a fellow Nigerian appear, the normal Naija accent for spoken English returns.

But I noticed that the accent of the person the Nigerian is speaking to, is maintained no matter where he/she is (that is at least until he acclimatizes to the environment; by then, the subconscious takes over and he speaks in the accent of the locals).

This has left me pondering:
1. Maybe we think they our versions of English are different languages; “this foreigner doesn’t understand what I said; I must translate to his language”.
2. Or could it be that we believe that our language is Pidgin English? Therefore, we must speak formally (which is the foreign way English is spoken) when a stranger is around.
3. It could be due to the mouthy way we speak English. Subtly we think this is an inferior way of communicating.
Could (3) be the right answer? Could that be why?
· Is this what make some of (obviously less sophisticated) elders sound funny in their effort to incorporate “being there slangs” in their spoken English?
· Maybe that is why the average Nigeria adjust quickly to foreign lands with ease and face a tough challenge re-adjusting back to “hot” Nigeria “after so many years” (2 years; and this dude traveled when he was over 25)”.
· Or why the media retains foreign accent speaking (or "fonee" speaking) presenters?
· Maybe that’s why this “never being there” presenter is trying to ruining my afternoon… (using words like:
> “twenny”(for twenty)
> “innit” (for isn’t it)
> “nigga” (black man)
> “big up” (Sign of respect))
…in the most awful ways?

Before you ruin my day,
just listen.
You can’t forge an accent.
Takes more than just twisting your mouth or saying "cool" words.
It describes where you are coming from,
signaling a history you have experienced
Any effort to belittle it will only be an open mockery of everything you stand for
…and noise to my ear (as you successfully done)

You accent shows generations of individuals interacting with their environment in a particular way.
It reflects how the previous owners of a land viewed the earth,
their socio-economic/ legal struggle,
what they understood by all they sensed,
And how this understanding forced them to silently the pronunciation of certain alphabets (and amplify other) the way they did
Such different use of vocal chords created different accent.
In line with the saying of the holy book that “the fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children’s teeth are set on edge”

Hey Mister,
Please do you were employed to do;
Develop qualitative & engaging contents.
Use every opportunity to speak justice, the truth and what you truly stand for.
Because, that’s what earns respect.

Second Discovery of Fire

2009-04-20T01:18:00.000-07:00

Someday after we have mastered the wind, the waves and gravity, we shall harness for God, the energies of love. And then for the second time, man would have discovered fire.
Pierre Tiehard de Chardin

I still remember the 29th of Feb 2008, when you asked that profound question:
"What would you rather do?"
I was always lost in thoughts pondering about my current state, comparing current realities and the ideas I have of an ideal.

I would love to explore the world. A rolling stone, no strings, no attachment, and all memories of fantasies the average man never saw.
I imagined myself as the modern Viking, conquering territories in search for the golden flees.
The thought being an astronaut would have been great. The vastness of outer space provides exploration with no boundaries.
In all my desires, I find one thing common;
© that desire to be seen;
© that basic human need to feel accepted by humanity
But as always, that question kept lurking in the dark corners of my mind.
Little did I know destiny was beaconing on me.
Not until I stumbled in my life walk and received enlightenment.
That understanding that:
© Experiences are meaningless unless shared and used to shape a version of hope
© Whatever hope held is vanity unless it helps in establishing sustainable future
© The sustainability of a future is based on how much of it the visionary can create
© Creative ability depends on how much of it is unleashed.
And to unleash would mean a freedom of being, soul, and mind. That tri-team is anchored on the simple heartfelt desire to make the world a better place for two (me & you).
So what would I rather do?
I would rather
© explore all possibilities in space reachable by within the depth of your soul
© The look in your eye would reveal to me the beauty of the earth
© Engaging in your internal conversations would quench that thirst for fables & tales of mysteries
© The warmth of your smile would appease more than the approval of all strangers
The answer to your question is clear.
There are many different experiences possible in life. But of all, I think the most fulfilling is that choice with that one capable of unleashing the abilities in the heart; that one capable of enabling the second discovery of fire.
What I would rather do, is take that life walk with you.

Intimate Strangers

2009-03-26T12:40:00.000-07:00

Always together, forever apart

Who am I, Who are you?
We sit six desks away in the office,
We live in the same neighborhood,
We are even friends on facebook,
But there is not a Hi, even in our stares
Cos no one is sure how to break the ice

We both get to work at about 6:00am
You work in marketing and I, in operations
Your day usually starts with the manager’s request for your report
Your always have bread and akara in the mornings
Fried rice and chicken with Dansa Orange in the afternoon
Every time you come, the phone is glued to your ear, and eyes to the ground
The sales man in you is trying to convince him using your most frequent line “like I said”

As you walk by, time seems to freeze giving me that moment to say these words:

Tobi,
you would be leaving us tomorrow,
What do you need a British Masters in for?
I really think you will do great without one
I admire your charisma and wish I could be that way one day
Though we are not even acquaintances, I feel we would always be connected
I try to imagine the content of your profile on facebook,
Most of your pictures would be in parties, raves and bar
Chidi and Toun will commented on most of your pictures insinuating an understanding beyond what the picture appears to be telling
But all of you won’t be hidden
Behind all the glitz & glamour ,
Your eyes, even in the pictures, would expose your soul
That worry would still be there
That desire for satisfaction in relationships that you feel the pressures of life robbed you of
The hope for a future that protects your offspring and those close to your heart
All that drives you to look for solitude in excitement and adventures
You try to hide it all with that “no surrender” swagger
But I understand

I look at the pictures and want to make a comment
But this digitization has made life too fast for my mind;
Knowing what to say would be hard
I want to say I understand all your are going through and notice things you feel are overlooked
I understand that desire to survive against all odd even when your environment stands against you,
I notice that your shirt wasn’t ironed this morning;
revealing your efforts to battle erratic power supply & a demanding job

I really do understand
If the world had been different we would have been platonic friends
We would have shared stories while I drive to work
We would have attended family functions ,
I would have commented on your pictures with that deeper understanding I feel I have
I would be one of the voices in your heads,
a part of your conscience that speaks my unique opinion
I would be one of those saying jokes that will make you laugh when you're alone

Back to reality,
our eyes lock in another stare and we both turn away when it becomes uncomfortable

I watch you disappear into the gathering of other marketers,
Your contagious laughter fills the room as you disappear till we meet again
Something in me feels I would miss you, but I know we would always be in touch,
Our circle of friends and the internet would make our stories flow,
Fueling that unclear intimate relationship,
Even as we live completely separate lives

1st Words

2009-03-25T02:03:00.000-07:00

One desire I have is to be renowned as a provider of art. The medium or the type of art is not clear but the focus remain; that message must come forth.

A message that preaches fairness with equality and gets people to act in truth with one another.But such message does not come out of thin air. It must be embodied in our understanding of individual daily rituals packaged in an artistic form; a form that capture imagination whilst allowing the message retain its purity. Thus, I am taking up the tasks of the medieval craftsman with the use of words:
* By capturing thoughts and giving insight into ideas people have overlooked.
* By preserving rare moments like the first kiss of a lady, or jokes shared by age old friends and merging it with the logic of a tale.

Such goes beyond the simple use of words and music but also it comes by the creator thinking in a realm where words are refined and become life. The creator must work as a craftsman, refining his thoughts, digesting specific moments and then searching for a medium that can adequately express the message in a way that can be appreciated.Making the tears flow, charging the atmosphere to release that euphoric feeling through the spines of my audience, and creating lasting moments that they can always identify with.This might be my most noble act to humanity.

Changing myself, to change the world.