Decades: Chunks of Time

WELCOME TO CASHLESS NIGERIA

2012-01-19T12:25:00.000+01:00

I just got an SMS from Vicky, about Mobile Money provided by MTN. As a typical Nigerian, the first point of call on the mobile money site for me was the Tariffs section.

According to the tariff page, to deposit, register, buy airtime, check balance and pay bills is free. To withdraw by an unregistered customer is free as well as the accounts subscription, and SMS traffic generated by transactions.
But after that, the charges start piling up:
Mini Statement = NGN10.
Registered customer's withdrawal of NGN3,000 and less will cost NGN50.
Registered customer's withdrawal of between NGN3,001 and NGN6,000 will cost NGN100.
Registered customer's withdrawal of between NGN6,001 and NGN9,000 will cost NGN150.
Registered customer's withdrawal of above NGN9,000 will cost NGN200.
To send to a Registered customer, it will cost you NGN50.
To send NGN3,000 or less to an unregistered customer will cost you NGN120.
To send between NGN3,001 and NGN6,000 to an unregistered customer will cost you NGN180.
To send between NGN6,001 and NGN9,000 to an unregistered customer will cost you NGN250.
To send above NGN9,000 to an unregistered customer will cost you NGN300.

So the charges are between NGN10 and NGN300.
They seem minimal but if you consider the fact that the Central Bank of Nigeria is steering the country towards a cashless economy, the charges will pile up gradually. As everyone will have to operate without cash, every transaction will cost some money.

But then I got an SMS on my MTN modem that Vicky had credited the account with NGN8,000 credit. I even got a bonus of NGN400 for the transaction, done via MTN's Virtual Top Up service. And I checked out my etisalat credit balance and realized that he had topped that one up as well.
And I struck upon an idea.

Mobile Money vs Credit Share
Instead of using Mobile Money, why not try using credit as the legal tender?
If I sell groundnut, instead of having to collect cash from you the buyer, you could just transfer the money to me. Its instantaneous! I get the alert, you get the groundnut immediately!
Same goes for the vegetable seller, and the mallam that sells custom-made indomie down the street.
And yes! Don't forget the suya seller! Its instant.

The money goes round and round so there is no cause for worries. Of course to get your cash back, you might need to sell the credit to anyone who will buy. This means everyone will be selling credit - kills the retailer business a bit but, it pays in the end, as it is all free and the networks eventually wont need to print rechage cards anymore! Besides, there may be no need to cash out at all. Let me paint a scenario for you:

Akin wakes up in the morning, and strolls to his wardrobe to brush his teeth. He finds his toothpaste tube empty, and grabs his phone as he hurries to Oga Audu, the Mallam at the kiosk three houses away.
"Sanu Oga Audu" he greets the mallam.
"Sanu Oga Akin," Audu responds. "How I fit helep you this morning?"
"I need toothpaste oga" Akin responds. "How much is this one?"
"120 naira oga," Audu replies as he pulls out his phone.
"Ok, abeg give me your number again make I transfer," Akin says as he opens his MTN Services application on his phone.
Seconds later Audu's phone beeps, indicating that he has received an sms. He smiles and hands over the toothpaste to Akin, who thanks him and hurries back home to get ready for work.
Thirty minutes later, Sherifat, Akin's sister is blocking the door, barring Akin from leaving the flat.
"Bro Akin you promised to give me some money for my handouts today," She mutters. "Please now"
"Sheri, I don't have time for this o!" Akin bellows. "You want me to be late for work ni?"
"No now," Sheri pleads. "Please, oya just promise you will transfer 400 naira to me before noon."
"Will that be okay for your handout?" akin asks.
"It is half," Sheri replies. "Mummy has already transfered the other half last night."
"Smart girl," Akin says as he opens the door. "I promise you will get it before noon okay? Bye bye."
He closes the door on Sheri's doubtful face.
------
"Papa! I don dey go school o!" Young Ahmed shouts as he straightens his worn out socks.
"Bye bye" Oga Audu, his father shouts back to him from his kiosk.
"Papa! No money for breaktime today?" Ahmed asks.
"No money!" his father replies, and watches his face crumble before adding. "I don transfer 50 naira to the akara seller in your school for you."
Ahmed's face lit up at the news. Oga Audu shook his head. sometimes he felt his son went to school only for the food.
"Na go de Papa!" the boy says, before turning around and running to the junction.
------
Akin peeps out of the window of the bus, and glares at the traffic a third time. It was as if Time was determined to make sure he was late today. He gets down from the bus and stands at the side of the street, looking up and down for an okada [commercial motorcycle]. Finally he spots one, signals it to come closer, and within ten minutes, he arrives in front of his office.
Just in time too, with five minutes to spare.
"Oga," Akin addresses the okada rider. "Abeg quick give me your number make I transfer. How much u go charge me sef?"
"50 naira oga." the rider responds. "my number na..." he reels of his number from memory.
Ten seconds later
"Oga thank you. Have a good day" he says as he starts his okada and Akin walks into his office compound smiling as he remembers the days when they would both have to starat looking for change and the purpose of taking the bike would be defeated as he would invariably be late.
-------
The okada rider parks his bike in front of the bukateria. He is famished and had been heading there before Akin called him.
"Mama Kike good morning o!" he calls out as he takes a seat where he can keep his eye on his okada.
"Good morning Oga Silvanus!" Mama Kike, the food seller responds. "How your night? Wetin you wan chop today?"
"We thank God o. Bring rice and beans, and dodo and four meat." Silvanus responds.
"Wetin you wan drink?" Mama Kike asks as she sets the food in front of him.
"Bring coke madam," he grunts as he digs into the food.
Twenty minutes later she goes to him as he pushes his empty plate and coke bottle forward and begins picking his teeth.
"Mama Kike how much be my money o," he says around the toothpick in his mouth.
"Meat na 200, rice na 100, beans na 50 naira, and the coke na 20 naira." she responds. "Total na 370 naira oga."
As she greets a newcomer, Silvanus sends the money to her phone.
"My phone number na..." she says to him, as her phone begins to beep.
"I don save you number Madam," Silvanus cuts her short as he rises from his seat. "I don send the money sef. Na the SMS e go be wey enter your phone just now."
"Yes o!" she responds, "Na im! Oga thank you! Make I dey expect you for evening abi?"
"Yes," Silvanus. "Na akpu I wan chop by then o. No tell me say una no get dis time! Bye bye"
---------
SIX HOURS LATER
"Kike! Kike!" Mama Kike shouts from her cooking spot. Her daughter Kike had just arrived from school and she needed her to buy some things.
"Yes ma!" Kike shouts back as she appears by her mother's side.
"I need fufu o," Mama Kike says in a lower voice. "And Ugu vegetables. Please go into the market close by to buy both."
"Ok ma," Kike responds, swooping down to grab her mother's phone on the stool. "How much?"
"Buy 500 naira fufu and 400 ugu." Mama Kike replies as she continues stiring the soup on the fireplace.
"Ok mummy," Kike responds.
"Don't take long o!" Mama Kike shouts after her.
------
"Mama Sola, you no go close?" Mama Aliu shouts to her neighbor as she carries her garri basin into her tiny shop.
"I don dey close o," Mama Sola replies. "Nah Kike come buy fufu and we never finish to dey count am."
"Abeg do quick and close," Mama Aliu shouts back as she carries her Beans basin in as well. "Nah we remain for market. Everybody don close finish."
"Mama wait!" Sheri shouts as she runs towards Mama Aliu's shop front. "I wan buy garri ma!"
"Why you just dey enter market now?" Mama Aliu grumbles. "I don close o."
"Mama no vex na," Sheri pleads as she rummages in her bag for her phone. "Nah just 600 naira garri I wan buy abeg."
"I don carry am enter o," Mama Aliu insists.
"Abeg ma," Sheri kneels down on the hard ground. "My brother will kill me if I don't buy it today. Please ma"
"Mama Aliu sell am for am now," Mama Sola says as she waits for Kike's transfer delivery to get to her phone, while packing up. "See as how she kneel down so. To find young girl wey go do like that e rare o. She be good gal."
"Ok you get lucky today o!" Mama Aliu says as she turns around and gets her measuring bowls. "Oya start the transfer now now as I dey measure! My number na 08031234567"

Minutes later, they had closed up shop and are on their way home. Sheri is already on an okada to take her home.
---------
"Hmm," Akin grunted as he rubs his tummy in satisfaction. "That was some meal."
Sheri smiles at him in pleasure.
"Your husband will enjoy you well well," Akin adds as he stretches out his feet in front of him.
"Thanks for the compliments," Sheri says as she clears the dishes from the tiny dining table in the one bedroom apartment. "And thanks for transfering the money in time this afternoon."
"Really?" Akin asks, around the toothpick in his mouth, his eyes still closed. "It was in time?"
"Yes it was," Sheri replies from the tiny kitchen. "I was able to transfer the money to the Captain and get my copy before the lecturer entered the class. I made your favorite eba and egusi just to say thank you, you know."
"Ah!" Akin exclaims. "If that is what it will take to get my favorite meal, I will start transfering money to your phone everyday o!"
Sheri and Akin burst out laughing.

---THE END---

Everybody gets paid, without charges as it is free via credit transfer. MTN VTU is ideal for this as almost everybody has[ or has had] an MTN line, but other networks also do credit transfer for free.
What do you think?

Kill Corruption, not Subsidy

2012-01-12T14:27:00.001+01:00

As I write, a revolution is ongoing in Nigeria. The Youth have finally woken up and realized that they cannot depend on the current 'elders' to secure their future. The youth have finally seen that they cannot just sit on their hands.

But while we are all pointing fingers at the Senators, House of Rep members and the President's cabinet, we need to also look into ourselves.

Are we also not corrupt? Are we clean? Are we sure it is not a case of the pot calling the kettle black?

For those of us that might say, 'I am not corrupt', we need to really do a reality check. Corruption should be eradicated at ALL levels, from the nursery school child to the oldest Nigerian citizen.

Here is a brief checklist - not exhaustive but it should clue you in:

- If you sell anything [from garri, to marykay, to land, to flash drives], and you make more than 50% profit margin[profit not selling cost o], YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you help someone to get a job, and you expect a percentage of his salary, YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you help someone get a contract and you expect a share of the profit, [without stating your claims before your assistance o!] then YOU ARE CORRUPT. If the share you are demanding is a lion's share of the profit, YOU ARE VERY CORRUPT.

- If you are in a position to manage service providers [from suppliers of meat in a Bukateria, to service providers to large businesses e.g. oil companies], and you demand that they 'grease your palm' to continue to receive favor, YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you can carry out your contract with 10% of what you demand as price then YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you spend less than 30% of your time doing other things instead of doing the work your employer pays you for, then YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you go around stealing other people's ideas and parading them as your own then YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you collect bribe, or 'thank you' in any form [cash or kind] then YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you are placed in a position of judgment and you do not do your duty without partiality or bias, then, YOU ARE CORRUPT.

- If you do not pay your employers according to the work they do for you and hours they spend for you then, YOU ARE CORRUPT.

Let's just face it, everyone needs a cleansing in Nigeria.
Kill Corruption not Subsidy - Yes I agree.
But the murder of corruption starts with YOU and I.
NOW

Fab - ulous Tips

2011-10-17T08:49:00.001+01:00

Hey Everyone!
Yes I know I deserve some spanking for having such a long haitus, and will turn around for it as soon as I finish typing this, I promise [fingers crossed at my back].
I just had to share this great find - I have not seen words of wisdom for Startups and Aspiring Entreprenuers this brief and to the point yet.

Its about Fab.com, and their instant success since starting 130 days ago [yes you read right!]. They presently have 750,000 members and 3 million hits on their site per month [I just added to that list, so make it 3 million and 1]. And most importantly, they have $100,000 sales days - very important to the Nigerian Entrepreneur I am sure!
They share a set of slides for us to learn the major 21 things they have learnt so far, that keeps them growing.
I am sure my Entrepreneur friends and family members will appreciate this.
Please take the time to read through - its just 21 points after all :)
Click this sentence

Not Knowing

2011-01-07T11:43:00.000+01:00

This is a poem I wrote for a friend that is having issues....she enjoyed it and has permitted me to share to the world as well - someone out there probably needs the upliftment....

Its family thanksgiving day.

Everyone is in church, seated with their families, children, grandparents and all.

The pastor calls out all the couples that are a year old, and my husband and I file out with the rest.

10 couples in all.

And only one couple is without a baby.

Us.

It felt like the sore thumb, always sticking out. It doesn’t help matters that both my sisters-in-law are among us. I can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at me,

wondering why,

wondering when.

Well, I don't know too!

And I don't like it either!

I don’t like not knowing when God will finally answer my prayers and give me the twins I want.

I don't like not knowing whether I will menstruate or even ovulate each month.

I don't like not knowing how my body could fluctuate between weight levels so rapidly and often.

I don't enjoy being asked when my due date is when I know it’s my bulging tummy that's deceiving their eyes.

I don't like not knowing when my tears will end, when my morning will come at last.

And it doesn’t help matters, not knowing.

How am I supposed to explain to everyone that I'm afflicted with PCOS? Who will understand?

The pastor's call for five year old couples pulls me back to the present.

8 couples in all.

Then I see her.

She is the only one without a child clinging to her skirt. She stands alone, looking just above all our heads.

I can see the tears shimmering in her eyes.

She is a nice friendly person, a humble individual and it is only now that I have discovered.

I know.

I know how she feels.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I begin to pray.

I begin to pray for her in earnest.

If anybody needs a child, she needs it the most.

Who am I to complain? See another woman, five years without an issue, bearing it valiantly.

I thank God for answered prayers.

I thank God for my life.

Bosi Gbangba pt5

2010-10-23T21:19:00.000+01:00

Sorry folks, I know this has been long over-due. You can read part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4 first.
=-------=
=-------=
"Mummy, open the door!" Ajibike shouted as she jumped up and down excitedly at the entrance to her home. She had just come back from a photo session with her best friend, Lanre. They were neighbors- the Adekomi's stayed on the ground floor while their family occupied the upper flat of their building, which was among the staff quarters on campus.
Ajibike had been scared at first when her mother had told her Mr. Adekomi would be taking them there, a man so tall that all she ever saw were his long long legs. The only time she ever saw his face was the one time he had carried them all to school, when he yelled that she had not closed the door of his VolksWagen Beetle car properly, and after that, she had cried that she never wanted to follow him to school again. It didn't help that his cheeks were lined from one end to another in tribal marks either.

Ajibike had sat quietly in the car until they had gotten to the studio, and had scrambled out so she would not be the last one out of the car - and thus the one to close the door. She had had a fun time making faces at the camera, only to be told that she had been there before as a baby, with her friend Lanre. She had been given a complimentary copy of their early photo and she was clutching it in her hand at the door right then.

Before she could shout again, the door swung open, and she ran into the living room. Her Aunt Itam, her mother's Calabar-born help was busy trying to force her little brother to wear a sweater over his shirt - with one glance Ajibike saw she wasn't making any progress.
"Where is mummy?" she asked.
"Is that how to say good afternoon?" Aunt Itam replied.
"Sorry Auntie," Ajibike mumbled. "good afternoon Auntie."
"Good afternoon to you too," Aunt Itam replied. "How was your photography?"
"You mean photo session, Itam," Aunt Ibiriyike interrupted as she entered the room. She was Ajibike's mother's younger sister, and as far as Ajibike was concerned, an angel from God living among humans.
"Yes," Aunt Itam agreed."Your photo session, how was it?"
"Fine Auntie," shouted Ajibike, who pivoted to her angel instantly. "I behaved myself, and the photographer gave me this as a gift! He said I had been there before as a baby!"
"Yes that's true," agreed Aunt Ibiriyike. "When you had no hair on your shiny head."
Ajibike touched her head of full, curly hair. "I didn't have hair?" she asked, dismayed.
"Yes, but you have plenty now," Aunt Ibiriyike said, rubbing her head affectionately before she pulled out the large-scale photo gift, and smiled. It was a copy of the shot showing Ajibike sitting on a stool, and Lanre standing beside her, both smiling so happily.
"Lemme see!" shouted Ajibike, as she jumped up, trying to catch a glimpse.
"Here have it," Aunt Ibiriyike handed it over to her.
Ajibike stared at the picture and smiled, already sure she was going to tease Lanre for his almost toothless grin at his age - he was about a year older than her and should have had plenty teeth by the time of the picture. She felt a tug at her shirt and looked down at her baby brother Deji as he used her as a prop to stand. When he was upright he reached for the photograph but she raised it out of his reach.
"No Deji," she said repeatedly. "You will spoil it!"
Frustrated, the toddler grabbed her clothes closer as if to hug her.
Ajibike smiled. Her baby brother had never tried hugging her before, she thought, as she put her hands around his body, bending a little to enjoy the special moment.

Then she felt the bite.
Her baby brother had bitten her stomach, in the navel area, with all of his five teeth.
It would have been mild if the boy had let go but he held on to her flesh, through her dress, as tight as he could.

Ajibike's yells brought everybody, including her father, to the living room. Eventually they were able to separate the two children. While Deji gave his first true smile since he could crawl, Ajibike cried and cried so much that her mother was scared that they might have to go to the hospital just for check up. As their father was still contemplating whether to disagree, Mrs. Adekomi, who was a nurse, knocked on the door.
"We heard Ajibike screaming," she said. "Hope no problem."
"None o," replied Ajibike's mother. "Just the two of them fighting. Deji bit Ajibike in the stomach."
"Thanks for checking on us Madam." Ajibike's Dad interrupted Mrs. Adekomi's sympathetic response. "And if you dont mind, could you please examine the bite? She keeps crying and crying."
Fifteen minutes later Mrs. Adekomi confirmed his thoughts - no serious wounds. She must be crying from the emotional pain,the nurse concluded.
But when by nighttime Ajibike was still sobbing and scrambling away from Deji everytime he crawled near, her mother knew she had to do something.

Bosi Gbangba pt4

2010-06-30T18:08:00.000+01:00

Sorry folks, I know this has been long over-due. You can read part 1, part 2 and part 3 first.
=-------=

"What do you think happened?" asked her husband as he joined her on the balcony to watch the coming procession.

"I don't know," she replied, "but it cant be good for 7 people to be carrying our daughter home."

"She's alive isnt she?" the father mused. "Then it can't be that bad. Just calm down."

Thirty minutes later he wasn't sure of his conclusion anymore. The crowd had arrived and were taking up the space in his living room. When he asked what the problem was, they all tried to explain at once.

"Silence!" bellowed Daddy Eko. "Only one person should talk."

"She has a bead stuck in her nose." the sunday school teacher said.

"Is that all?" her mother asked, sighing in releif. "She didn't beat anybody? Didnt steal anything?"

"No Ma." replied the man. "She's a good girl. That's why we're all so concerned."

"I hope there are other teachers with the remaining kids, seeing as many of you as this." Daddy Eko said.

"Yes there are sir." replied the teacher as he realized that only the instructor on the stage didnt follow them to Ajibike's house.

"We will be taking our leave now." he added. "Are you taking her to the hospital?"

"Something stuck in her nose you say?" repeated Daddy Eko as he stroked his thick moustache in thought. "That should be easy to pull out."

"Madam can I get a hairpin?" he asked the mother, who promptly ran into the rooms to get one. She was back seconds later with a black thin piece.

"Thank you." he muttered, as he collected it from her shaking fingers. "Ajibike, come here."

the girl ran to him gaily, smiling.

"Now I want you to do something for me." he said in a softer voice. He waited until her distracted eyes focused on him again before adding, “Stay still. I am going to try to bring out the bead in your nose with this pin. I wont hurt you, but you must stay still so that I can do it properly, ok?”

Little Ajibike nodded in understanding. She looked around again, wondering what the problem was. Her mother looked ready to burst into tears, while her father face held a grim expression. If she didn’t know better she would have thought he wanted to beat her, but she didn’t know what her crime was this time. Surely the bead stuck in her nose was not going to kill her. Couldn’t they all see that she could still smile and talk?

After thirty minutes of gentle rummaging, Daddy Eko raised his eyes to her father and shook his head slightly. Then he asked Ajibike for a favor.

“Breath out like this” And he breathed out.

Ajibike savored the attention she was getting from her Daddy Eko as usual, and obeyed. She breathed in, then she breathed out. Her mother raised her hands to her head and began a silent wail. Her father rubbed her mother’s back and whispered calming noises that Ajibike could barely hear above the din the Sunday school teachers raised at her actions.

Ajibike looked confused. Why did they start shouting? Didn’t they see that she was trying to emulate the deep breath her Daddy Eko just breathed out?

As always, Daddy Eko understood her young mind.

“Don’t try to do it as deep as I did,” he said. “Just breath out with force, you understand?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Now breath out.” He ordered.

She breathed out.

“Harder, Ajibike” he added.

Since there was not enough to breath harder, she breathed in, then out. Her mother started crying seriously.

Daddy Eko pulled Ajibike into a hug then rose from his seat. He and her father thanked the teachers profusely and ushered them to the door. When they were gone, he turned to his friend.

“We have to go to the hospital.” He said. “The bead is round and her nostril is too tiny. They might have to do an operation to get it out though.”

At the word ‘operation’ her mother’s cries grew louder.

“Daddy Eko,” Ajibike said for the first time since she was brought home. “What is wrong with my mummy?”

“She has plenty water in her eyes,” her father replied. “Where is your shoe?”

“It cut.” She replied.

“Go and get another one and lets go.” He ordered.

By the time she had found a complete pair, her mother’s crying had stopped. She came out and handed them to her mother.

“Mummy please help me wear my shoes,” she said. The mother quietly complied.

They entered the hospital through the emergency entrance. When the nurses saw what the emergency was, they began to rush.

=-----------=

THREE HOURS LATER

“Has she woken up yet?” the British doctor interrupted his assistant’s explanation of the procedure they had almost performed on Ajibike.

“She’s stirring sir” the assistant replied, glancing at the girl in her arms, before continuing, “We were supposed to make the incision just above where the bead was stuck, then cut downwards until it could drop freely, but something happened. We could not find the knife to make the incision. This was not possible as I had supervised the cleaning of the tools myself, we were wondering what to do as we had already applied anesthesia and everything, when Dr. Graham interrupted us and asked, “Why not make her sneeze?””

“That was it! By the second sneeze the bead had popped out of her nose, just like that!”

Ajibike’s mother was so relieved that her baby’s nose had not been cut open, she was smiling and praying in Yoruba in short bursts. She prayed for Dr. Graham’s great-grandchildren and Dr. Ogochuckwu’s great great grand children.

Dr. Graham’s attention was more focused on the child that was awakening in Dr. Ogochukwu’s arms. He waited for Ajibike to raise herself and glance around at the people standing over her before he spoke again.

“Little lady,” he said. “If you ever get anything stuck in your nose again, you will meet me in the theatre.”

Then he motioned with his fingers, “I’ll snip snip your nose to get it out.” He didn’t smile as Ajibike shuddered in fear.

To this day, those hairy fingers, making the scissors motion are still vivid in Ajibike’s mind, and she never ever touches her nose with anything, not even a flower.

A Public Apology

2010-06-06T09:29:00.000+01:00

Well, I never thought I would do this, but here I am. I had an 'eureka' moment while watching....wait, let me start from the beginning.

In 2006, I looked forward to graduating with the rest of my class, only to find out the hard way that my name was not on the list of graduands - yeah I found out by checking the late brochure, while sitting in the graduating hall, while my family were waiting to start eating (get the full story here).

Anyway, that was ages ago, And I wont rehash the pain and agony I went through trying to rehash the recent past then, trying to find out what I could have done to the department's results coordinator, my course adviser, favourite lecturer and mentor, Mr. Sawyerr. Needless to say his singular action of excluding me from the list caused me a lot of delay in my life's plan, but - I digress.

While I was watching 'Being Erica', it all came together for me. You know, when you sit/stand somewhere, and something flashes in your mind from the past and then you realize you don't feel how you felt right in the middle of the experience. Well, that's how it was for me. I sat there and watched Erica go to the past (as usual) and then the Doc said something that struck a cord within me - 'a setback is a blessing'.

He said that as humans, we always forget what assets 'pain' and 'struggle' are. When we get to the good spots, we always forget how the bad spots helped us to get there. Every setback is always a blessing because it pushes us to move up and higher.

So, in the spirit of 'Being Erica', I'm going to try to patch up my past.

Dear Mr Sawyerr,

I'm writing to apologise for all the things I wrote and said about you on and off the internet. I was acting through all the pain your actions caused me back then.

I want you to know that now that I look back, I should have been thanking you instead. So this is to say Thank You.

Thank You for omitting my name on the graduating list. Thank You for excluding my name from the Batch A NYSC list.

You see, that major setback re-arranged my life. Now that I look back, God had everything planned out. All that I viewed as setbacks along the way were actually God-orchestrated stop-gaps to fill in the spaces in His plan for my life.

Thank You most especially for letting God use you. I am most grateful.

Regards,

Daydah

10 Tips on How to Work from Home in Nigeria

2010-06-04T12:40:00.000+01:00

This is my first post this year and to my readers I apologize. I apologize because it took a threat from one of you to come here.
Its been hectic - Getting adjusted to 'After-The-Wedding' life and new working environment and all that. Although someone will say that working from home isn't a new environment but believe me, it is.
I spent Primary 5 and 6 and all of my Secondary school education as a Boarding student. My Mum usually had to resort to threats to get me to come home when I was in the University, so for me it is a new environment.

The daily routine is ...different because I spend more time working unconsciously. Normal working hours are 8 to 5, but I find myself working longer because I never really leave work. I didnt really see it in this light until my mother came visiting.
"What is your husband having for breakfast?" she would ask, to which I would just point to the fridge.
"What will your husband eat when he returns?" my Mum would ask, to which I would just nod my head. After he left, she gave me THE talk.

I know Nigeria is going to start adopting the work-from-home methods of conducting business so I have a few pointers for the employees that might start jumping up and down if they ever find themselves in such a position [and also for those that envy the home-workers]:

1. Work Area: You need to set a particular area for work and work alone. I learnt this the hard way - first I worked on the dining table, because I felt the study was too 'serious' for me. Then I progressed to the living room carpet with a cushioning pillow under my chest. Then I ended up in the bedroom, but I was still not so comfy until I found myself in the Study. That was the best place for me to work because it was made for work. You need an environment that sets you up in 'Work Mode', that will not let you stray and that you can consciously leave after work hours.

2. Ground Rules: You need to lay some ground rules, and I am not talking about rules for the children. You need those rules for yourself - YES YOU! You need to decide what you will be attending to when you re within work hours and what you can term an emergency. For me I thank God my husband loves Cereal for Breakfast, so its easy to set up his meal before I resume online. After he leaves for work, the only emergency that can get me up from my desk is if the gate is burning. I keep my breakfast within reach so when I get hungry I wont have to stray far. I don't have kids yet, but I am sure most parents can sort out how to keep the kids away.

3. Distraction: This leads to distractions - try to keep them at a bare minimum. For me I keep the TV off, and the Radio, I'm so quiet that my neighbors usually don't even know when I'm in the house. I also stay away from the kitchen and snacks - working from home is one of the fastest ways to gain weight because you are almost always sitting down, and its worse when you keeps snacks around you and just eat and eat and eat. You have to fight the urge to eat junk even more if you work from home.

4. Exercise: Because you sit all through and hardly leave the house, your body will retain everything it takes in because there is no activity to use to burn it out. You have to find a way to stay active. After closing, I go for 30 minute walks that are sometimes brisk, sometimes slow. It gives me time to also think and plan, especially when there is a hard nut to crack on my work-table. You can also do some exercise while working - stand up for a few minutes and len over the table. Walk around the room. Stretch. Go to the front door and return. It will keep your blood flowing.

5. Electricity and Internet: To work efficiently you have to make sure that these two are available to you all the time. The Office wont want to hear excuses like 'NEPA took the light', or 'My Internet finished'. No, they just want you to deliver, and they already feel they are pampering you by letting you work from home anyway so, you have to go out of yourway to ensure that the two are available. For me I have Starcomms internet, and use MTN as backup. I have an inverter that can last up to 5 hours and we just bought a generator recently [#lightupnigeria already!].

6. Follow-up: Whatever you're working on, you have to keep up the communication. Whether its through Yahoo Messenger, or Skype, you must be visible to the office people. What I did was to create a group for office members and every morning I log on and become visible to them during work hours. It is essential that they know that you are working as well. Even when I am mobile, I try to stay online via mobile messenger.

7. Breaktime: Do not joke with your lunch/break time. You need that one hour to do other pressing things like washing the dinner plates from last night, finishing up laying the bed that you started before you resumed work, or grabbing that bite of food. At the same time do not extend the time. Let your system get used to only one hour of freedom before getting back to work.

8. Food: Watch what you eat for lunch. I am talking as a proper Nigerian babe now - don't go and be eating Garri and leftover afang soup, or pounded yam and oha soup o! You will just sleep off for the rest of the day - and that is the truth! Eat light - pretend you are at work physically, would you have packed that pounded yam to work? Would you have eaten it right in the canteen? Seriously? I prefer rice [and beans sometimes] for lunch, and I can even call it breakfast because I do not normally eat before noon. Anything that will take more than one hour to cook AND eat is off your list.

9. Call Base: Even though they can see your mails and messages online at work, it is necessary for you to call the office, at least once week. This is essential for out of town home-workers like me, who cannot pop into the office anytime. This will keep the memory of you fresh in their minds [especially the accountant who handles the salary].

10. Family : Last of all but not the least, please do NOT neglect your family o! Close on time! Now you have the grace to close on the dot of 5pm! Do not extend work any longer than necessary. Give your family the quality time they deserve.
So its been six months and I finally can balance it all well - I should think so!

Wedding panic

2009-12-22T01:28:00.001+01:00

Its here. The D-Day is here. Well, almost.

By sunday night, I am going to be a married woman. My name will change, everything will change, even my body.

It seemed so far away six months ago. All the shopping, all the mother and daughter fights, everything looks so trivial now.

The cake isnt ready, the gown is ready.

The bridesmaids dresses are alright, the chief bridesmaid's dress has not even been sewn yet.

The flowers for everybody has not arrived yet.

And my hairdresser wants to rob me blind, but its too short a notice to get another.

I cannot remember where I hid the marriage license and I am looking for some of the gift money.

One of my bridesmaids is acting very funny and we are thinking that the service boys from the caterer might not cover the whole event.

Why do I have to fix artificial nails? And must my hairdo be gel? Can't I just set my hair in a curl or wave? The video guy is bugging us for his advance payment, and I still have to pay for the hair pieces for the bridesmaids. Where in God's name did we hide the rings? How am I supposed to pack the clothes I will need separately? Since we young babes cannot sleep in the house, how do we get a hotel to sleep? Why is the honeymoon agent taking so long with her processing? Where will the couple sleep for the night?

I am almost in a panic.

Then I look up, and I see Vicky.

All is well.

We made it this far, and we will make it even farther.

We will defy all those that said we are too young to marry, and the union [after 4 yrs of courtship] is too soon.

We will show them that said they want to see how we will survive, and they give us three weeks before collapse.

We have the ultimate weapon.
We have God on our side.

He smiles at me.
I smile back in return.
Yes, we are going to be alright.

I will not let go

2009-12-22T01:25:00.001+01:00

Tis amazing what we take for granted everyday...Got to church yesterday in less than 10 mins thanks to Bikermice from Mars [I'll miss them when I move to Abuja!]. As I went up then down the ped bridge briskly, all that was on my mind was getting to church. I stepped into Church and all that changed. It seemed my hip had shifted. I could barely put any weight on my right leg. It was awful. I developed a limp as I entered the church.
I gunned for the very first available seat at the back. I could barely put pressure on the hip even while sitting. I wondered what I had done to cause it to happen. Was it my diet? For two weeks I have stayed away from rice, white bread, and yam. Considering that that was the staple in my household, you can understand that it was with supreme effort that I was sticking to that regime. I am loving the effects already as my clothes are really loose around my body, but I am lacking carbohydrates - it would have been total if not for the spaghetti I consume regularly. A chat with my chief bridesmaid calmed me down - if it was from my food then its not the diet, because I am staying away from carbohydrates not calcium.

Was it my state of mind? I was not really paying attention to a lot around me. My processor was doing a lot of computing - on one hand I was calculating how much the total aso ebi I was to church for friends carrying cost, so that I would sound brilliant when I was asked by the paying parties. On the other hand I was trying to guess if I would make it in time to church before the closing prayer. On another side I was wondering if I would be able to fulfill my promise of visiting a friend's mother and on the other hand I was wondering how I would finish the job laid out and waiting for me on my bed at home.

Needless to say, my mind was all over the place, but that did not explain the sudden pain in my right hip. I was listening to the sermon - yes I actually met the sermon as it was about to begin when a thought hit me out of the blue.

I will not let go until you bless me.

That was how Jacob/Israel got his shifted hip.

He did not let go until God blessed him.

He held on tight, and wrestled with all his might.

And he was all the better for it.

All he lost in the bargain was a well balanced hip.

He got all he could imagine and more from that encounter.

The pastor's bellow [yes it sounded like a bellow], brought me back into the church hall. It was time to tell God what we wanted before the year runs out, he declared. It was time to claim all those pending blessings left over from the previous months, he announced.

I was up on my feet with the crowd. I strayed from the normal prayers for the past eight months: asking for another car, a successful wedding ceremony, my father's miraculous presence at the wedding. Instead, I requested for one thing.

LORD BLESS ME.

I WILL NOT LET GO UNTIL YOU BLESS ME, LORD.

Because in the end, His plans for us are good and not evil, to bring us to an expected end. He loves us and only wants the best for us. I would rather ask for His blessings which covers all I need, than sell myself short and ask for specific things from Him.

HE blessed me that day, and even though I was limping till evening, I did it with a smile on my face - I had wrestled with Him and told Him my demands, in prayer -
I WILL NOT LET GO UNTIL YOU BLESS ME.

Seven pounds

2009-12-21T03:12:00.002+01:00

I watched the movie, Seven Pounds, recently and just had to write a tribute to it.

Everyday, he sits at his desk,
glad to have a job,
glad to be able to cater for himself.
As the phone rings, he picks and says,
"Hello, Customer service, how may i be of help to you?"
Blind Ezra never hurt anyone,
was never cruel or unkind.

Everyday, she watched the children run down the street,
She could barely keep her dog from running too fast.
She knew her business was about to close,
but with the uncertainty in the time she had left,
her mind, her heart was no more into work.
Emily, the girl with a failing heart.

She sat in Child care services everyday,
always trying to reach out, always praying her friendly smile would convince the next child,
the next victim of abuse that she was there to hold them,
to provide another way for them.
No one knew of her pains, no one could tell that her liver had failed.
Holly, always smiling, always ready to help.

She kept the children in doors,
She never let them be exposed to her abusive boyfriend.
She let him in because she knew there was no where to hide.
And she knew she would die if she pressed charges.
Even when he broke three of her ribs she never said a word.
Proud Cottie - who would cater for her kids if she were to 'disappear'? No one.
Cottie had to stand strong amid all the despair.

The family of three ate at the hospital cafeteria.
The mother was smiling hard, and encouraging her first son to play with the ailing younger brother.
Nicholas was ill, and failing everyday.
He needed a bone marrow transplant, and was on the waiting list.
His mother tried to conceal her dimming hopes behind an over bright smile, but the boy could feel it.
There was no hope in this world.

He assumed an identity
To fulfill a mission.
He took the role of his brother
to penetrate and to study
He had it all planned out.
He knew what he had to do, and he knew when
He selected them all, specifically
they had to be deserving
they had to be nice kind people
they had to be worthy,
worthy of another chance at life.
Worthy of a change in their situations,
worthy of a miracle.

It is rare to be given the opportunity to plan one's death - Death is always cheating at that.
But Tim Thomas had that opportunity,
To his brother Ben, he gave a lung.
To Ezra he gave his eyes.
To Emily he gave his heart.
To Holly he gave his kidney.
To Cottie he gave his home.
To Nicholas he gave his bone marrow.

To each one of them, he gave another opportunity
Another shot at life.
He planned his suicide, but he didn't feel he had to die just like that.
This graduate of MIT, decided if he were to die, people had to benefit from his death.
The accident that killed seven people and the love of his life, that left him as the only survivor, was proof enough for him that he survived for a reason.
And he touched many lives, in his selfless act.

I only hope he gets to enter heaven.

Bosi gbangba pt3

2009-09-27T21:22:00.000+01:00

"My Daddy Eko is coming to our house today!" Four year old Ajibike whispered to her friend. They were at sunday school, and even though the teacher had warned her to keep quiet twice already, she could not suppress the good news. Nothing could suppress her excitement that day, not even the fact that her sunday black shoes had cut that morning on the way to church, because she had run at the site of a giant millepede. Her best friend, Lanre, had laughed at her, calling her a sissy, but his words did not have their usual effect that day. All she knew was that her Daddy from Lagos was arriving that day, and that was enough to keep the sun shining all day for her.

One would think that the man's visits meant lots of sweets and gifts for her, like any other child, but for Ajibike, it meant she had a listening ear to report all her troublesome younger brother had done to her since his last visit. He was always patient enough to listen, unlike her father and mother, who expected her to be responsible for the little brat, and take punishment even when the brat was wrong. That was all she needed, a listening ear for all her stories and tales of adventure in the three farms her father had.

Her present companion was a girly girl, the type that she and Lanre sneered at when they passed by, with all the frills and stockings and gowns. Ajibike only wore gowns on sundays, even then it was until she returned home again. The sissy asked her if her Daddy Eko would bring imported chocolate, and turned away when Ajibike said no.

With no one to chat with, as the teacher had banished Lanre to the other side of the class, Ajibike dipped her hand into her favourite gown's pocket. She loved the particular lilac gown she was wearing mainly because of its pockets in front, in which she kept a variety of things like her one and only marble, her beads, her wire rings, and all other sorts. One pocket was for her while the other was for Lanre - she kept their goodies because Lanre had elder siblings that were more thorough in emptying children's
pockets than her mother, who had her hands full with her restless brother most of the time, and expected Ajibike to be a mature girl.

She rummaged in her pocket until her fingers found her favourite bead piece, which had a small groove on it. The beads had actually come from a long necklace of beads that she had worn for more than a year until her brother had pulled it apart. Since she didnt know how to string it, and her artist aunt was busy with exams, she carried some of the pieces around with her. As the Sunday school teacher commanded them to close their eyes and pray, Ajibike rolled the bead absentmindedly on her arm.

There was combined service that morning, which meant that the children got to sit in the main church with the adults, a rare treat for Ajibike, as she loved to watch and laugh at the dozing antics of the adults in the church. Ajibike settled down, and watched as Dami, Lanre's younger brother, who was her brother's regular partner in crime walked by. She knew he was looking for her brother, and she turned around briefly to look at the church entrance to see if Lanre had quit disturbing that sissy girl and had decided to enter.

She was still rubbing the bead absentmindedly on her face when she turned back - and her elbow bumped into Dami, causing her hand to push the bead straight into her nostril. Dami began crying the second he saw that Ajibike could not snort out the bead piece. The sunday school teacher ran into the church, and asked what happened. She took Ajibike and crying Dami out of the church before listening to explanations.

=--------------=
"We are so happy to see you," Ajibike's father was telling his cousin. "How are things in Lagos? Hope not too hectic for you."
"Not too hectic o," the man replied. "We are surviving."
"You still have not told me what you want to eat sir," Ajibike's mother put in as she placed a tray of cold water before him, on a stool. "We have yam, amala flour, ogi, vegetable, egusi soup, and even bushmeat."
"This your wife will kill me with food one day o,"Daddy Eko said. "She keeps forgetting that the minute I finish eating her food, I begin to fall asleep."
"That is the way it should be sir," she responded. "Sleeping after a meal is a sign of contentment."
"Where are the children?" the man asked.
"They are off to church with the maid." she replied. "Since you wont decide, I shall go and prepare your favourite. Please excuse me."
The men nodded as she rose and made her way to the kitchen. She smiled because she noticed that they waited until she was no longer within earshot before continuing with their discussion.

She was grinding pepper on the stone grinder when she heard faint voices. She stood up straight and took care to wipe her brow with the back of her hand. The voices got closer and closer. She ran to the front balcony to see what the noise was about, and gasped.

Coming towards the house was a group of about eight people, the person in the middle was carrying Ajibike and walking so briskly that the others had to practically run to keep up.

Bosi gbangba pt2

2009-09-23T17:01:00.001+01:00

"What is the issue now?" the man asked. "Haven't you taken enough for the tests?"
The child was crying silently, in her mother's arms.The nurse glanced nervously at the couple. How was she to tell them that the pathologist was out for his noon day drinking break?
"Er...the samples have been sent to the Lab sir," the nurse stuttered.
"But that is what you said twenty minutes ago!" the man exclaimed.
"We are waiting for the results sir, before we can proceed." the nurse repeated again. "

The man glared at the nurse before turning back to his wife and child. Suddenly two doctors rushed into the room and asked for the referred child. The nurse pointed towards the watching couple. One doctor quickly collected the sleeping child from its mother while another began explaining that the child had to be operated on because they believed any more delay would jeopardize the child's life.

"No!" exclaimed the mother. "That's the reason we asked for a referral! We do not want an operation!"

"But madam," the doctor replied. "she can barely breath! The only reason she can sleep right now is because she is not alert. When she wakes up she will be in a lot of pain. If you only let us..."

"Let you do what?" the mother interrupted. "Cut a hole in my baby's throat?"

"But its just a tiny hole madam." the doctor said.

"No matter the size its still a hole," the father replied. "A permanent hole. We do not consent to the operation. Why are you not waiting for the test results?"

"Tests?" repeated the doctor.

"He means these test results," another voice floated from the end of the corridor. She was tall, slim and her steps were soft and sure on the worn tiles of the hospital. As she crossed a sun beam, her face was framed for a second, and it looked more like a model's than a doctor- the mother's roving eye caught on the billowing doctor's coat again for assurance. What could this teenager be doing in a doctor's coat? She wanted to ask.

"You ran tests on the child?" the second doctor asked her, his face contorted in a frown.

"Yes," replied the lady as she moved closer to the mother and rubbed her hand up then down the woman's sleeve. The woman relaxed a little, unconsciously.

"She has a bit of apple stuck in her wind pipe." she continued. "Its not poisoning as their hospital's note said. All we have to do is give her drops that will melt the piece. We will also give her more sleeping syrup."

She looked directly at both parents as she said,"There wont be any need for an operation. Please let ur perform the procedure. It will only take a few hours."

"We don't even know these people." the mother said, looking at her husband pointedly. The doctors apologized and introduced themselves.

As they made their way back to the waiting room, the mother wondered what would have happened if the teenager doctor, who turned out to be a pediatrician, had not arrived when she did. She had shuddered when they had been told that their baby was about to be given a permanent hole in her throat. Her mind had failed to refuse to stop picturing the child, with a hole in her throat, growing up still with a hole in her throat.She pictured the humiliation, the shame, the suffering the girl would be put through all her life, all through no fault of hers.All because another woman who wanted her father had decided to 'deal with' the girl.

The mother shuddered again."Are you alright dear?" her husband asked as they sat down to wait.

"I will be if you can assure me that that witch will not spend another night under my roof," the mother responded.
"It could have happened with anyone," the father defended their house guest. "Even you."
"Even me?" the mother repeated. "How could I possibly be so dumb as to feed apple to a child that has no teeth?"
"I knew you were going to react this way." the man said in a resigned tone.
His wife just stared at him before shaking her head, also in resignation. How was it that men were blind when it concerned women that wanted them?

They sat in silence for three hours, the wife muttering prayers for minutes at a time. The husband sat back, and reminisced. He remembered when the baby was born, how he had been called aside and told that the hospital did not have an incubator, but there was a way out - they could improvise, if only they could get their hands on about ten hot water bottles and a few more thick blankets.
He'd made a dash for the university quarters, and gone from door to door until he'd gathered all he needed. His neighbors looked at him in wonder - an African man was usually this jubilant when his wife gave birth to a boy, but the father was oblivious to the the gender, and even the condition. As far as he was concerned, he had a child.
He was a father.
He had a child.

The baby had been 1.6kg at birth, and the doctors, after setting up a make-shift incubator with cardboard boxes, hot water bottles, and thick blankets, were scared when the weight dropped to 1.4kg. The baby was a survivor however, she not only survived the incubator, she survived one month at the hospital. She was the smallest premature baby to ever survive in the hospital, and as a gift, she was granted free treatment until she clocked three years of age.

But the baby was barely one year old, when an old friend came visiting some days ago, totting apples, the local species. She had insisted on carrying and playing with the baby, then on feeding her apples today. Ajibike had adapted to the new food until a particularly big piece had gotten stuck in her throat.What started as a small back-patting incident, became an alarming issue that entailed rushing the child to the nearest hospital. Thank God they had been alert and not numb, because the doctor on duty had insisted on operating on the child, even after hearing that the kid was choking on ordinary apple. They had put their foot down, and insisted on a referral.

"Sunday?" a leathery voice interrupted his musing. The father looked up, then sat up immediately. His brother, older than him with more than fifteen years, was standing in front of him. He tapped his wife gently before standing up and prostrating in greeting.

"I thought so," the man said, nodding his white head. "When that child doctor kept disturbing me that I must carry out the analysis before going to my joint for my midday palmwine, I thought she was just ranting as usual. Thank God I glanced at the name on the forms. I carried out the analysis quickly before going out. I am glad I did."

"Thank you Papa," the wife said, rising from her kneeling pose.

"What happened to my child?" he asked as he took the seat vacated by his younger brother.
"She got apple stuck in her throat," the wife replied.
"Hmm...." the man mused. "Asphyxiation, or poisioning. Was it critical when you got here?"
"The doctors from General Hospital gave her a sedative so she was still sleeping when we got here."
"General wanted to cut a hole in her throat abi?" the old man asked.
"Yes," replied the mother.
"Typical," the old man muttered. "All they have to do is dissolve the apple piece, then give her a sleeping draught, and position her so that she doesn't choke before she wakes up. That's all."
"That is what the girl doctor said," the woman said.
They all turned at the footsteps coming down the corridor. The nurse approached the receptionist first, then came towards them.

"Dr. Ogochukwu says you can see your daughter now." She said. "Please follow me."
The three of them followed the nurse who led them down the corridor as she spoke.
"She is now in the Children's ward, but in a separate room. I see you have met Papa Mankind."
"He's actually my elder brother," the father responded.
"Small world." she said.
"Yes small world." agreed the father, who entered the room after the nurse.
They were greeted by the endearing sight of Ajibike clapping her hands and shaking her crib in enthusiasm as the lady doctor sang out of tune, while she checked her vital signs.The mother's silent tears were in complete contrast to her happy laughter.

Bosi gbangba pt 1

2009-09-23T16:59:00.001+01:00

The man rubbed his head again in anguish, then rubbed his aching eyes, before resuming his pacing. Back and forth he paced in the waiting corridor, ignoring the pitying glances that passersby sent his way. Everytime a doctor approached he looked at their faces intently, dreading bad news.

They had already lost one baby. This unexpected one had been a God - given miracle, and now it seemed it was only a teaser.

He smiled as he remembered his wife's facial expression when the doctor had told her that her illness was another baby, not malaria. But that was four months ago. Now he had had to rush her to the emergency room because she had fainted.

He had stepped down to the car to pick something, only to return and find her on the floor.

"Hello sir," the approaching doctor asked. "Are you the husband of the woman in the theatre right now?"

"Yes, Yes," he said in a rush. "I am. What happened?"

"We are sorry about the.." the doctor began, but had to pause when the man began to cry.

"Wait sir!" The doctor exclaimed. "She still alive!"

The man looked up instantly. "She is alive?" he asked, trying to believe the words that came out of his ears.

"Yes she is sir," the doctor repeated. "I just came to tell you that you have to sign some papers. She has to be operated. I want to explain the situation to you sir, but you have to calm down and listen carefully."

"Am listening" the man replied as he walked with the doctor towards the theatre.

"Ok. We have to operate to remove the baby. I understand that the approximate duration of the pregnancy is just over six months right?"

"We are not really sure." The man responded.

"Then it might not be developed enough to survive." The doctor said."We are on a race to save your wife's life. That is what we hope to achieve. We will try our best but saving your wife's life is the goal. Do you understand?"

"Yes I do."the man replied. "Please save her."

Three hours later the man was called into the theatre.

"Your wife is fine now sir." The doctor assured him. "She will be resting now."

"Thank God!" the man sobbed again.

"And that is your baby" the doctor added. "Its a girl, and she's alive and kicking."

The man glanced in the direction the doctor was pointing to, and saw a nurse motioning for him to come closer. He peered at the tiny form in her arms, all bloody and wriggling the tiniest arms and legs he had ever seen.

"She's barely seven months old." the doctor said.

"Baby" moaned the wife.

They all glanced at the bed, the nurse hurrying to her side to show her the child.

She stared at it for a few minutes, then turned to her husband and asked,

"Are her toes complete?"

He nodded in response.

"And her fingers?" He nodded again.

"Thank God" she muttered before falling asleep again.

At 1.6kg, not longer than an Africola bottle, Ajibike was born, on the 23rd of September.

Nigeria's Bank crisis

2009-08-19T18:49:00.006+01:00

Since friday I decided not to comment on what was going on in the banking industry here in Nigeria, partly because I was three busy, and partly because I really do not 'vent' about politics. Yes, I vent about the upcoming wedding, the office, and other things but not really about politics. But this one, I have to vent.
I read a post on 234Next about the banks crisis and the moves that CBN has made to try to change things, and it was alright. The information was shocking but still Nigerian. Then I read the comments.
I encourage everyone to click the link above and read the comments thoroughly. It appears that there are some Nigerians who don't realize that every decision-making office in Nigeria is rapidly being filled with underqualified [or in some cases, unqualified] Katsina and Kaduna state people. I started with 'it appears' cos I do not want to believe it is true. I encourage everyone to read through THISDAY newspaper, yesterday's edition.
Meanwhile this was my response to the writeup:
BANJI AHMED and all those condemning AKEEM KOLA ADEBAYO, I think you missed his point. When he was talking about tribal activity he was not talking about the banks issue alone. Take a good look at the recent activities in FERMA, PHCN, CBN and other key decision-making posts in the country - you will see that the top crop is being replaced by unqualified, or lower level underqualified katsina and kaduna men. Just look well. One retired northerner even wrote a signed statement about it - it was in yesterday's papers. I personally know that the FERMA head was sacked without preamble. That is what he is refering to, not the bank issues alone!

While CBN has the authority to caution erring banks, I do not see how they have the veto power to 'sack' bank MDs and chairmen, especially banks created by private hands. And I also agree with the fact that people's assets should not be seized to pay the debts incured from failing businesses, only the collateral.

While the US has given us till 2013 before we implode, I for one pray that the tension wont give way before then. Since friday one statement I heard during Abacha's rule has been echoing in my head = 'The northerners are born to rule. The others are born to serve them.'

Let's all start praying for Nigeria o!

All the Married Ladies

2009-07-13T11:09:00.002+01:00

I have a question for the 'experienced' Naija wives out there...How do you cope with decision making in the home? I am engaged to a good quiet guy and he's nice and reasonable most times but guess what? He's from Ekiti state. That is the beginning of it all, cos we all know they are extremely stubborn people. He can be so determined over some issues at times it makes me so exasperated that I am breathless.

Now the wedding is pending and as usual the little arguements and 'issues' over wedding preps is expected, but it still makes me raise an eyebrow, cos even though I love this guy, it is a serious issue for me when he wont see reason.

I am not always right but sometimes I am sure but he wont listen. Then when I am proved right he still wont say a word. Its funny, really because I have been practicing 'agree to disagree' but its wearing me down.
Tis especially frustrating because I am used to making my own decisions and all that independence.
Now he's all luvey-duvey but am not even blinking. Is this normal?

Then the role of motherhood? Does it fit easily? Do you just become a mother, just like that? Cos I cannot begin to comprehend how my body will change over nine months and there's the childbirth part. I hear stories of how 'the lady had several tears and she had to be stitched inside and outside [shudder]' or of how 'the labor took up to 5 hours and had to be induced in the first place'. Tis making me shake. Then having a kid now without proper..er...[financial] preparation is a major issue. My cousin told me that a pack of pampers, the big size that lasts an average of 2 months, costs 54, 000 naira [yes, fifty-four thousand naira]. That alone is making me try to pinch every cost wherever I can.

Then I ask Vicky, when are we goin to start have the babies? And he replies, 'immediately of course. Why wait?'
What about my career? I am already feeling down that I have to leave the posh job I'm at in Lagos to go to the unknown in Abuja. The frustrating part is everyone keeps advising me to get a Ministry job because that way, I can have the time to 'rear my children properly'. I did not intend to have a career in the ministry where all they do is open and close file cabinets for God's sakes! I have climbed so far in so little time - as the head of technical department in the mobile IT firm I work, it has been hard work getting there. Now I am supposed to go and work in a Ministry so I can have time for my children? What about the bankers in Abuja, don't they have time for their children?
I have serious issues running through my mind - Kafo has heard some and pacified me a bit, but some things are nagging. My mum is so excited about her only daughter's wedding and is always put out that I am not concerned about the engagement lace color combo, or the exotic aso oke combo she is thinking of combining. I am just not into the whole drama. Left to me I would just pay a planner and smile for the camera. In fact, left to me we would just go to the registry and be done in an hour. But my mum has only one daughter, and his mum wants to have a ball cos she especially loves him, never mind that they have had two weddings this year already - his sister got married in March, his brother, two weeks later in April.
The funniest part is when I see him, all my fears melt away. But I would like to know if it is normal.
My mum's over three decades older than me so to sacrifice all for a man was the norm then.
All the married ladies pls help me out....

Paris said it all....

2009-07-08T07:36:00.004+01:00

It all seemed so unreal - someone even twitted that he expected Michael to jump out of the casket and tell us it was a lie and make us roll our eyes and say, 'Oh pleez! Stop your theateritics for Pete's sake!'

But it was not to be.

I tried to watch the Michael Jackson Memorial, but I live in Nigeria, where the only TV station to show it live decided that the nine o clock news was more important than watching the service - they cut into the live feed with their news. Nigeria has not changed and we get six o clock news so why didn't they just leave it on for Pete's sake? Its not like they interrupt football anyway.

Even the internet wasnt cooperating - guess it was my low 115Kbps bandwidth that wouldn't help. So this morning as I opened my yahoomail, I saw AP news about it and clicked. This is what I found. And It finally sunk in....

By SANDY COHEN, AP Entertainment Writer – Tue Jul 7, 9:35 pm ET
LOS ANGELES –
For all the hasty preparations, hand-wringing over security, breathless media competition to scoop details and soul-wrenching performances, the essence of Michael Jackson's memorial service came down to 20 poignant, powerful seconds: the moment when 11-year-old Paris-Michael Jackson inched up to the microphone and, in a statement no one saw coming, referred to the late pop superstar as "Daddy."
It was a remarkably humanizing moment. Then again, it was remarkable just to see Jackson's three children in public to begin with.

A fiercely protective father, Jackson rarely brought his brood out into public, covering their faces in veils and party masks to protect their identity when he did.
Now here they were, unveiled, before an audience of thousands at Staples Center and millions more around the globe. Starting out seated in the front row, the three youngest Jacksons eventually joined the rest family onstage as the two-hour service wound to a close.
Dressed in the same dark suits and yellow ties as the rest of the Jackson men, 12-year-old Michael Joseph Jr., known as Prince Michael, chewed gum and toted the memorial service program; 7-year-old Prince Michael II, known as Blanket, held his program and clutched a Michael Jackson doll.

Paris, wearing a black dress with white trim, turned a small patent-leather purse over in her hands as other family members spoke. And then a dramatic hush fell over the crowd as family members whispered that the little girl, whose lifetime of public exposure amounted to a small handful of paparazzi photographs, Paris-Michael wanted to say something.

She furtively emerged from the tight circle of family members, who rushed to lower the microphone to her level. And with her uncle Randy on one side and aunt Janet on the other, Jackson's little girl stood center stage.

"I just wanted to say," Paris began weakly.
"Speak up, sweetheart, speak up," Janet encouraged, sweeping the girl's long hair back. "And get close."
Paris put one hand behind her neck, another on the microphone, and began again.
"Ever since I was born, Daddy has been the best father you could ever imagine," she said, her tiny voice cracking.
Rebbie and Marlon Jackson moved in closer to comfort their niece. She shut her eyes tight.

Then she wrapped her hands — little fingernails painted red — around the microphone and fought back tears as she continued: "And I just wanted to say I love him — so much."
She collapsed in tears into her aunt's arms.
"It's OK, baby. It's OK," Janet Jackson said as she held Paris close. Prince joined in on the hug.

And all at once, Jackson wasn't the larger-than-life King of Pop, or Wacko Jacko the tabloid freak. He was a doting father who had left three adoring young children behind.

He was "Daddy."

Nicely said. Goodbye MJ.
I am still crying...

Do you have scars like that too?

2009-06-20T00:35:00.000+01:00

Life is so funny. And so painful. I used to think of myself as an easy-to-heal soul, you know, the type that forgives easily, and forgets.
I still heal easily - on the surface that is. My skin heals quick and I have no scars, no matter how severe. But I am wrong in my assumption.
My heart has scars that wont dissappear. It is odd that the two scars that are prominent were brought on by similar circumstances, and by friends. The first was from a bossom friend who I loved deeply. I really felt for this babe. Don't get me wrong - I was not attracted to her, I just saw her as the sister I never had. I went out of my way to please her and help her. It wasn't that she was ill, or disabled or anything. In fact, she was and is a beauty - long legs, pretty smile, lovely figure. Around her, short, pudgy me was not self-conscious however. I felt at home with her. It didnt even matter that we were of different religions. All that mattered was her happiness. Our friendship stood the test of time and other people's jealousy, but it was destined to crack one day, and by something so flimsy, I still cannot believe that she actually believed I could say such a thing.
Well, it ended. I was bitter, sad, hurt and angry. Even when the truth came to light, I kept away. I had wrapped myself in a cocoon to heal.
Its been years, but even now, if I go visiting, her family still treat me like their own.
But everything I read something about her no Facebook, or see something she gave me in my room (I refused to throw them away or hide them), I feel a pang in my heart. Why did it have to end that way? Maybe she didn't love me as much as I loved her? So many questions will remain unanswered.
The scar still pulses even now.
Then the second one was woken up tonight. I got through a shaky year three with help from an angel. I found him on the internet - he's a math whiz, knows more than 14 programming languages and was alive during world war 2. He's a veteran, and has survived so many things. I admired him, and looked forward to hearing from him everytime. He's also a crazy man - one time he decided he was relocating to another state, but rather than fly he chose to go by road. That sounds alright until you read this - he reconstructed a bicycle and attached a trail of six black containers to the back with three wheels. He traveled for almost a month, slept on the road or in parks, and subsisted on little or no food. I had to plead with him to notify at least one member of his family (yes he has grand kids but is estranged from the family because he chose to live on the streets) before starting out, so in case something 'happens', they would know.
All was rosy until I made a mistake. A classmate of mine needed help for his project and his topic was something I was sure that my'Grandad' (yeah that is what i called him then), could handle, so I introduced the 'mate, and told Grandad to please help.
That was the last I heard from Grandad.
By that time, he'd gotten an apartment, gotten a job, had a girlfriend he intended to marry, but something had happened to his back, so I was in 'caring' mode - checking on him with mails to make sure he was ok. We had gotten so close that he didnt feel any restraint in giving me his POBox address and number (I think I sent a card once sef). We even exchanged pictures.
Looking back, I wonder, what did I do wrong? He just up and refused to respond. I got frantic. Was he alive? Searching his name on the net said yes he was, and from the dates I could see he was still active. Was it my religion? He's a staunch atheist but I never pressured him to convert - the highest I did was tell him I was praying for his recovery. Was it my friend? It might have been, because Jide could have been a yahoo boy without my knowledge.
I will never know.
Grandad even wrote me a story, and sent it to me. It was sweet. The scar is still there and throbbing.
R and Kent Dolan - scars that refuse to fade and go away.
Do you have scars like that too?

Plans List?Carried out or not?

2009-06-08T14:19:00.002+01:00

Have you ever planned the next year of your life and then after a few months, realized that nothing went according to plan? Well it happened to me. Back in October, I knew where I wanted to be in a year's time: I was going to be married, with my husband and I studying in a foreign country for masters degrees. We had applied and then things began to happen.
First my Dad felt I was rushing to get married (Never mind that he'd insisted when I was 17 that by the time I reach my age, I should have given him 2 grandkids for him to spoil). Then my acclaimed alma mater university refused to send my transcripts to the schools I had applied to. As if that was not enough, I had not taken my TEOFL exam which was required to apply.

Its now June. I lost the admissions because my transcripts never arrived even though my university claims they have sent it. My father has finally agreed to let me get married BUT at his own convenient time, and his own way (he has just declared he doesnt want us to print invitation cards - imagine that!). Of course Vicky did not pursue his own admission since I wasnt going.
I have a job I am comfortable at, but might soon leave because I will have to be the one to move over to Vicky's side. I really don't know what the future holds - I don't see myself as one of those strong Amazonian women that combine school with bringing up 2 kids and running a job all at the same time (just because my mum can doesnt mean I can, right?).

I had begun to despair that I might never do that Masters degree in the nearest future, until someone sent me a url for an online university. And the thought stuck! Why not get an online masters instead? Why not search for a cheap one, something that wont take too much of my time and money? And the search began!

www.uopeople.org is a free online university that is available to the whole world. However, there are only two courses - Computer Science (BSc and Associate) and Business Administration (BSc and Associate). They are currently not accredited, and do not receive credits transfer either. Check them out for more details.

I found two sites that compile all the information you need - ELearningSite and All Learn.
They have everything you need to search for!
Explore people! You might be busy all the time but time is passiing you by - every worker's nightmare is working for ten years and some young over-educated kid takes their place because their qualification had become extinct!

Brush yourself up - Start now!

Wake up call

2009-05-26T08:46:00.004+01:00

After a stressful day at a client's site, I got home feeling dog-gone tired. I went to check on my Mum and got a heart-stopper. After I left for work in the morning, my brother found her struggling to breath. He called Dad who got a heart specialist hospital name and address in Nigeria and sent it to my brother. He rushed her there and after several checks, the verdict was: she's overworked, overstressed, and in need of rest. Her flunctuating high blood pressure, low resistance to illnesses and skipping heartbeat will get worse if we don't act fast. She needs to reduce her workload drastically. She needs to rest more. She needs to stop worrying about things. She needs to change her diet totally.
It was a wake up call for me. All the time that she was being prodded with needles and xrayed I was thinking only of work. Even as I entered the house that was what was on my mind. To be honest, if she hadn't chided me that I didn't ask how her day was, I probably wouldn't have asked since the question always got me more than a quarter of an hour wasted to gist. I'm glad I did. My brother and I put her on house arrest till further notice. My Dad is beside himself and calls within the hour-he's said he'll pay the driver's balance if the one she wants to employ is asking for more than she can afford. I have decreed that she draft her resignation letter from one of the three jobs she works at. Life is precious. She's laboured for so much of her life, its not now that she should be reaping the harvest that she should go. No way. If she proves stubborn we'll seize her phones, then limit access to her from every angle. I love her so much but I must tell you - its going to be a very conscious decision and action to start showing it. I have to stop focusing 180% of my attention on work and start focusing on family and social life. Its getting gradually pathetic- I had to start scrolling through my phone book before I could dig up possible candidates for my wedding train. It seems I've drifted so far away from the real world that I've left my friends behind. And I was so tied up I didn't see the signs that my mother's health was deteriorating. God help me to LIVE!

How could he be so selfish?

2009-05-03T21:02:00.002+01:00

I want to vent. Last week I had to mail the office that I wouldn't make it in that day. Then I had to send a file too so I used my flash drive on my brother's laptop for a few minutes. Later in the evening he came to tell me his laptop was acting pretty wierd- conclusion? There was a virus causing havoc on it. So I told him I'd scan my flash in the office, then ask advice on how to help him out.
I got to the office and I scanned the flash, no issues. Then I double-clicked the drive and viola, my system started shutting down. I panicked and cried out. I called an angel who sent me a link to download a tool that he said would help out. Needless to say I was paralyzed throughout that day- I could not do any work. I got home and still gave him the link. He downloaded the tool but it was not effective.
I went out, got back home and you know what? My darling brother had gone to see a friend I'd introduced him to who's a hardware guru. And guess what? He took the internet connection so I could not browse for another solution.
And guess what? He didn't take my office system which I had to bring home cos I was in trouble because me the virus I picked from his system. No. He took only his laptop. Then he got back and started telling me what a whizkid my friend was.
Then he capped it all by saying he didn't know I wouldn't have minded if he'd taken the system. He then crushed my patience by concluding that it was not his fault I had a virus on my office system.
IMAGINE THAT?! It was not his fault I was in trouble?! I'm sooo mad at him right now! Its like I am dreaming! How could he be so selfish?

EKITI KETE

2009-04-29T20:57:00.000+01:00

What is this wahala now? Why must such a tiny state in Nigeria cause so much wahala? It is not even in the center, it is not even an original state but a cut out of another. I really dont understand why every newspaper feels they must print something about Ekiti on the front page every single day. And this has been the case since it was created. The latest sensation is the election rerun that even our busy President had to take time to go and see. I mean, you would think with all the monitoring eyes, everything would run smoothly but no, another twist in the saga has been announced.
The outside world thinks we should be ashamed of ourselves. I a jsut praying that it does not get bloody, and that Ekiti will stop trying to keep attention all the time.

Am not dissing Ekiti o[that was for Vicky who will soon be my husband, so he'll not quote me after the wedding - he's from Ekiti :D]. Am just saying they should behave themselves.

Worse than this? Nope

2009-04-29T20:46:00.002+01:00

As I reply the last person to leave me in the office and wave goodbye I glance at the windows. It'd gotten dark and i knew it must be the clouds i'd seen earlier. The next time i look at the clock on my pc screen its a few minutes past six. I'd just read my pal kafo's latest blog post and I smiled sadly because I understood her pain. I was right where she was at the moment.
Then I heard the heavy downpour outside. There was no way I was leavin the premises in the rain. While I waited for it to subside i took my time to think up am apt comment and wrote it. At the dot of seven Iwas outside the office gates with a shower cap on my hair. I waste ten more minutes in the light showers before heading to New Garage where i find am almost filled bus heading in my direction. After me there were only three passengers left. I removed my shower cap and stared out into the rain. It was getting worse by the minute. I waited expectantly for what I knew would come next: dripping.

You see,new garage buses are known for several things which include the following-
1. Old, rickety and dirty buses that couldn't possibly have scaled through Lagos's supposedly functioning MOT vehicle checks.

2. Then the buses are so unique, that when they commence on the journey, you can look down and see the ground, you can look up and see the skies as well.
3. The noise they make makes an atheist pray for safe arrival. Its always a big task praying everytime I have to go home by that route but this was the first time I was taking it in the rain.

By the time the conductor finished collecting his fare from everyone I had found just the right spot to lean towards to escape the relentless droplets and not inconvenience my seat mates as well. Keeping that position was no easy task. I could not occupy my mind with other things. Then the bus broke down after leaving the garage. At that point I burst out laughing.
There I was, sitting in a bus that I was scared would fall apart any minute, leaking rain on me and broken down in the middle of a busy bridge. It was funny because I had been sad and depressed about my life that morning and it got extremely worse after reading Kafo's recent post. Then now this. What could possibly make my life worse than this?

Two Days Later
Today I heard about another accident on my route home. The same spot I had watched an accident take place months ago. This time it was six unsuspecting cars, and not one. And from what I was told, no survivors. Days ago I was melancholy, and thinking what could make my life worse than it is? Well, I take that thought back because my soul is filled with Thanksgiving at the moment. I should always be glad to be alive even if that is all I can thank God for.
You should too....

To supplement or not to supplement?

2009-04-14T10:54:00.003+01:00

Ok, its day 9, and I must confess I broke the rules a little. Rather than not eat fruits I chose not to eat at all. I didn't feel hunger pangs and I must say Vicky had to insist we go eat when he heard I had not eaten for over 10 hrs.

I travelled for the easter break - went for Vicky's elder brother's wedding. I had to go a day earlier so I could participate in the preparations. This time we were on the husband's side of the wedding so we really didn't have much to do, but the little we did was a lot.

I learnt to use my creative imagination again - did a lot of ribbon design and frills and twirls and stuff. We had to make the wedding Bible and the Wedding letter (Those of us that are Yoruba, know these things) frilly and nice-looking. We also had to tie ribbons on every other item - yam tubers, packs of 6-pack can drinks (up to 20 of that), and even a packet of sugar. At one point I asked if there was a goat on the list - at least something would wear the ribbons proudly.

Well, the engagement has taken place, and the wedding was fantastic - everyone turned out I guess, and kafo I saw your parents, and they still look lovely and young. Three days and I ate only once each day. Then I get back and read Solomonsydelle's comment on my last post, and begin to think - I do need to supplement my diet for those nutrients I cannot get from the fruits.

I can use GNLD supplements but that is just one option. Anybody got other ideas? Right now all I am eating is pineapple, apple, and oranges...I need more ideas!

Progress...

2009-04-09T17:46:00.002+01:00

Hmm...I weighed 71kg on sunday,

65kg on tuesday,

622 on wednesday,

hmm....Can't wait to climb the scales tonight! And all on pineapple and oranges!

Life is good!

Probably by this time next week, I'd be back to 58kg!

Wish me luck!