Spirits within?

How do fobs work.... Used with permission

2020-02-25T22:41:00.002-08:00

How Do Fobs Work?

Fobs emit a numbered access code that is assigned to your unit in your building to grant access to amenities.

How Do Fobs Work?

With different digital numbers & access.

Key Fobs Are Assigned Hexadecimal Access Codes

How fobs work: by using authorized numbers for each of the tenants, security team, board members, cleaners, etc. with different access for rooms, amenities, employee-only sectors. As an example, your security department team have access to certain areas, and higher authority & access than other members such as tenants.

Furthermore, tenants of the building have access to certain floors for their respective units using a security fob key. The more secure the building security system is, the less access granted for different floors (i.e. they can’t access floor 9, if they live on floor 7).

Lobby Access As Well as Floor Access in Condos

In addition, everyone in the building can access the main doors at the lobby, as well as the elevator to access any floor since that’s considered a ‘lower’ level of access. The lobby is a basic area that everybody has access to.

This allows security fob keys to allow only residents to access their units.

How Fobs Work is Encoded Data

Key fobs have a unique identifier based on their manufacturer. Each type or manufacturer uses its’ encoding method making it digitally different from fobs in that building, and other buildings, despite being supplied by the same manufacturer. The security office authorizes codes for their building.

RFID Fob key readings depend on the numerical digits.

‘Bits’ to Be Converted for Encoding

Namely the types of digits have conversions from Bits (or binary digits) > Hex (or hexadecimals) > ASCII (American Standard Code for Information Interchange).

These numbers above are based on the type of fob such as HID (or Indala), AWID, Paradox, GProx, Pyramid, Mifare & more and differ in how each contain the data.

Hexadecimal RFID Data Assignment

The numerical fob code is made up of values based on hexadecimal formatted data authorized by management and encrypted by the manufacturer.

The most common form of storing data is the hexadecimal system using 16 character types such as the letters A-F and numbers 0-9.

Each hexadecimal character represents a string of four bits and below is the same string of 96-bits above, represented in hex.

Both of the lines below mean the same thing in hexadecimal format:

Exhibit A

0100 1111 0100 0010 0010 0010 0111 0101 0011 0011 0100 1000 0011 0101 0100 0010 0011 1111

Exhibit B

4 F 4 2 2 2 7 5 3 3 4 8 3 5 4 2 3 F

Summary: Bits -> Hex -> User Identification + Facility Code

How the key fobs work is with a User Identification (UID) and the Facility Code (FC) issued by the building management for the key fob. This grants access for you as a tenant, security member, or master access member.

Source: RFID INSIDER

Got more questions? Text us up at 416-931-0225 and we’ll answer you in the next hour.

Max in 1 working business day! Or just visit us too to inquire.

Infographic: How RFID Works

Ready? Set? Save!

Now that you know you’re compatible, you’re ready to start the journey to come visit us at our location.

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Downtown Office

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North York Office

Before Next Steps.

More Details:

We do our best with being up to date with the list of key fob types we can copy on our website, but most of them are do-able based on your selection.

There may some exceptions, but condo key fob types for the main door plus elevator are 100% compatible. Garage remotes are 100% compatible with our standard key fob tag, but not all garage door opener remote buttons are compatible for copying.

Pricing varies for the type of service you’d like to purchase. Lifetime warranty is included to make sure your fob key is working as it should (excluding physical damage, battery replacements of remotes, code changes by management).

We are located Downtown and Uptown:

Visit our new Downtown storefront located at 47 Charles St W Bay Charles. We are open 10 to 7 pm Monday to Saturday (11 to 6 on Sundays). Walk-ins welcome.

We also now have an office in North York at 5 Spring Garden Avenue Yonge Sheppard. Appointment only at 6-8 pm weekdays and noon weekends.

Please come by and ask us any questions you may have on how fobs work. We’re more than happy to answer any questions and help you see that getting a new fob copied externally is a move worth considering. Condo management can charge up to $400 to copy your fob with a 2 week turnaround time on average.

We’re open daily Monday to Sunday, and open for holidays. See you soon!

What is love?

2020-01-30T09:53:00.000-08:00

I was asked... What is love?
A million guesses and you still wouldn't guess my response...
The answer seemed to come from the north
From a part of me I thought was buried, lost and for lack of a better word GONE!
What is love?
I do not know...
What is love?
No response from deep in my soul ..
What is love? Hypnosis? A strange sort of glow?
What is love? I honestly do not know...
Is it or the attachment or deep connection you feel to things?
Is it the unwholesome desires you feel for something, someone you have no business seeing?
Could it be your own desires lashing out at what lies beneath?
Or could it be when you look at her and something touches you deep?
Or could it be the excitement bubbling on your insides when you break down her layers of defences and she's putty at your feet?
Or could it be a feeling coined by the Divine above what mere men, mortals can experience?
What is love?
I do not have the answers; same way I didn't when this question was first asked of me.
What is love?
Only in God can the true answer to this riddle unfold

Not enough words

2020-01-30T02:51:00.001-08:00

Quantify, stupefy, beautify, personify...
There aren't enough words
There aren't enough thoughts
Vocabulary isn't enough
It's like a trainee painter trying to paint the Sistine chapel
One word would encompass his efforts.... FAILURE
I am a poet... A dreamer
Some would go as far as to call me a writer
In certain circles I would be labeled a fighter
In others I am a stranger
A healer....
Words are my balm, my prescription, my way of giving relief
A woman like you.... Don't remember now if it was you.... Called my effect soothing
Why?
She said i use words to soothe.. I use words to heal
That my words have more tensile strength than two ton weights
That subject however is up for debate
My failure is knowing inspite of my word strength... I do not have any way or means to describe the mystery, synergy, beauty, complexity, desirability, simplicity, loveliness that is YOU!
Be proud... You are YOU!!!

Ticks and tocks

2020-01-24T03:25:00.000-08:00

Tick by tick, tock by tock
Time stretches thin
It's in moments like this I think about where I've been
The only constant in all of this are eyes that bewitch
They shine like beacons in a darkness so complete
You are not sure where it ends and begins
I am a man who remembers many things
I remember a time when things were a lot simpler than this
A time we were much younger
A time we saw further
Those were days and times of wonder
The tick or the tock
Echoing louder than a gun
In absolute silence rivaling an empty tomb could be ignored
Left glum and in gloom
But in all this bedlam, noise, crushing vortexes
I remember you
Your eyes are the one that bewitch
You stand for all of this
Your voice over a billion voices
While tick tock drowns out all other noises.
This is my poem a day challenge.... Will you accept or reject?

The man called alone..

2019-12-10T01:55:00.000-08:00

Been called so many names
Been mocked many a time
My biggest critic is the dementor growing deep inside.... Me.
What some might like to call
A man's overbloated conscience
The more spiritual will call it the police of the soul
The caution, the brakes so a man does not wander off road
But I know only what it's told me
In retrospect it was never meant to leave me alone. To be less judgy and unappreciative of myself I realize I have grown. Being a work in progress and all that
In many ways it shows I AM ALONE! I keep trying to do better while I fight the demons trying to take away home. And I plod along on my own

Ramblings and a little touch of....

2019-12-10T01:48:00.000-08:00

To love and be loved is the crave of the human spirit.
The unloved find themselves in a pit called the wretched unforgiven.
I am on a path of self discovery, love and understanding; what it means to exist and enjoy living.
I am trying to understand why human nature loves the forbidden.
We love what we should not love. We hunger for what we should not touch.
We search for fulfilment in what will bring nothing but emptiness and loss.
We forget the price paid by an innocent who hung on a cross. It sounds so easy as I say this
But it's never easy, especially when I look deep into her eyes and strength fails me.
Right and wrong become lines that are extremely blurred. Especially when wrong comes in the form of a perfume scented touch

She....

2019-12-10T01:41:00.000-08:00

A paragon of beauty
The physical embodiment of seamless and timeless beauty; exquisite in it's uniqueness
What is this thing you might ask me?
I call it ....... SHE!
A taker of thoughts.
A controller of emotions and words.
An unparallel surge of attraction, like electricity drawn to iron
A rollercoaster of inherently subdued desires and feelings.
What is this strange and seemingly unexplainable entity?
I call it ...... SHE!!

What is the thing I see in shades of red, blue and green? Like the conglomeration of sweet textures on color defying lipstick on near perfect lips... With a body well shaped and trim. What could this be? To whom can we ascribe this?
I call it.... SHE!
Who is she?
She is her! She is here! She is there! She is one who stares!
She is also one who cares! She cares and smiles as she reads what I wrote here. She is YOU!

An unbridled passion

2019-12-10T01:31:00.000-08:00

I write these words calm in the knowledge they could make or mar me
I speak in a tongue I hope you and I speak
I exist in a world that defies understanding
I couldn't tell you of it even if I found a way to describe what I am feeling
I have come to the realization I am one of many things
I am an imperfect individual who tries with varying degrees of success to do the right thing
I sometimes let unwholesome motions and passions to get the best of me
I am on a journey of self discovery to understand what it is that I see
To understand what makes me; me.
To finally rest in the knowledge that I am at peace and free
But you can't be free when you hunger for what is not yours to have or give
I wonder if any have ever felt like this?
You love what you should not love. You don't hate what you should hate. You spend hours fixating on a person who for all intents and purposes is far from your reach.
It's like you are floating in space while trying to catch something the earth keeps in it's wake.
Every thought of you is like a feeling akin to labor pain.
What then will be my gain? If these thoughts of love drive me insane.

The deepest of connections

2019-11-26T04:07:00.000-08:00

There are many words I can say to you
There are many some may say is untrue
Voices and rhythms fade away like mountain dew
There are those that call themselves things that are not true
There are many others like me and you
Each unique in their own perspectives but with the same human spirit
There are many voices that do nothing but keep talking
There are many troubles as there are solutions
There are many world's
Cold and unforgiving
There are hard choices
Which could crush the human spirit
The earth we walk on might cease to exist tomorrow
The one constant is the strength and depth of the human spirit
The connections we make now, in this time could spill through the centuries
Even when the human stat is no longer even a memory
But our connections have the capacity to outlive us
It's these connections that determine if we fade or live on
I hold my connection to my family, my wife, my friends so dear. And YOUR connection is one I will not easily forget. It will live on beyond hate, love and even regret

Darkness and Beauty

2019-11-26T03:56:00.000-08:00

The darkness comes first
And then the rain
It comes with such ferocity
It threatens to drive a man insane
Some claim
In moments like this... There isn't any gain
But I beg to differ... In the deepest of darkness lies the birth, the sliver of light; reborn, rekindled, destined to rise again
I have learnt to take joy in the simplest of pleasures
The warmth of a touch, a smile
Like watching the sweet waters of the nile
Flow rapidly by my side
I have learnt to joy in the brightness of a deep blue sky
Or the care and devotion in a loved ones face and eyes
I have learnt to take leaps and giant strides
I have learnt to close and then open myself wide
I have learnt to put away the sighs
Consider the positives and worry about other things but mine
And I have come to the inescapable conclusion something about you is BRIGHT, It LIGHTS! It's KIND! Whatever you do, do not let betrayal quench that beauty you hold inside. Selah

Vestige of the unspoken word

2019-10-28T01:13:00.000-07:00

There are words that should not be spoken. Words that should not be uttered.
There are thoughts that leave a man broken
Words that crush the essence of life and existentialism.
There are people who are easily forgotten
Sexes that inspire wrath, rage or even fulfilment.
There are levels of human emotions, degrees of human feelings.
There are friends and there are enemies, destruction and building.
There is God in all perfection; Righteousness, all whiteness. A clinical absence of darkness.
Then there are people beyond description. Exuding sunlight and beauty into seemingly dark sentences.
But besides all this is one, a transcendence, fulfilment, unique in all its markings..... You!!!

The day I saw an angel - An excerpt

2019-10-10T13:27:00.001-07:00

Chapter One ©️

The scent of lavender hung heavy in the air. Mum decided we all had to use a new bath soap. I was still trying to decide whether I liked it. Sometimes I did and sometimes I didn’t. Today I am not sure. It was too strong.

“Darling are you ready??”

I rolled my eyes. Mum was at it again. I was too old to be called darling. Darling was for babies. And I was no longer a baby. I was almost ten years old. And besides I was angry with mum. Why did she make me leave my former school? I didn’t want to leave. She kept buying me presents. As if presents could replace my friends. I remember them so clearly.

There was Margaret, Bunmi, Lucy and Seun. We went everywhere together. Break time was the time we had the most fun. We would play ___ I got even angrier as I remembered our games.

“Darling __ you are not answering.”

“I am ready mummy __” I got out in a loud voice.

“Then come out quickly __ it’s time for me to take you to school.”

I rolled my eyes once again. And glanced around my room once more admiring its prettiness. There were pink and white colors everywhere; just the way I liked it.

I heaved a deep sigh and walked out of the room closing the door behind me.

Mum was already downstairs waiting for me in the car. I passed my dad’s room as walked to our front door. The door was open. Mummy had forgotten to close it. I could see his shirts, ties and trousers hanging neatly on the clothes hanger.

I felt sad. I missed him. He’d travelled out of town. Mum said it had something to do with business. He was going to be gone for at least a month. And it had only been a week. There was still a long time to go.

The staircase seemed to go down forever. I missed daddy. I missed my old school and most of all, I hated the fact that I had to go to a new school today. But mum said I had to __ so I had no choice. I had to go. Whenever I wanted to disobey her she always said the words ‘Honor your father and mother’. It was in the Bible. I hated that too. I loved Jesus. But I felt mum used him to make me do things I did not want to do. But I would obey her. Because I am sure it is what Jesus would want.

Chapter Two

“Did you carry your lunch bag?” Mum asked looking at me. I could see the worry in her eyes. I nodded without answering.

She looked sad all of a sudden. That made me feel bad. I leaned forward in my seat and touched her arm. She smiled. I smiled __ or at least I tried to.

“What’s wrong with you Deborah?”

I didn’t want to answer. Because I knew whatever I said was going to hurt her. And I never wanted to hurt my parents. They were very nice to me. They sent me to school, bought my clothes and even played with me sometimes. Because I did not have a younger brother or sister to play with. I didn’t mind. I had friends in school who were always there for me. I became sad again. It was past tense. I didn’t have friends anymore. They were in my old school. Not the new one I was going to. Mum always said I would make new friends. But no friend could be like my old ones.

“You don’t want to answer me?”

“No it’s not like that mummy. I do want to answer. I don’t want to go to a new school. Why can’t I keep going to my old one?”

“Deborah we have been through this __ it’s easier for daddy and I you being in this new school. Its closer to where we work so we can pick you easily.”

A few minutes passed as I thought how I was going to ask her the next question.

“Mum __ please don’t be angry with me ___ but did you remove me from the other school because the school fees are too much for you and daddy to pay?”

“No!” My mum shouted. “How can you think that? We removed you because of the distance. That is all.

I nodded, trying to smile so she wouldn’t feel bad. She kept looking at my face. As if trying to see if I was ok. She eventually started the car and we drove through the gate of the estate heading to my new school.

I like the long drive to school. I could imagine and daydream. I could remember my friends. And those who were not really my friends. I heard some of the teachers called them troublemakers. But they didn’t seem that troublesome to me. They always did well in their tests and the other children loved them. I wasn’t sure what I felt about them.

My friends and I found we were always a little jealous of them. They always seemed to have the best time in school. The most popular of them was a girl many people considered special. Her name was Jumoke Ibikunle. She lived in a small town called Eyin Ilekun. That was before her parents brought her to the city.

I’d passed them once or twice during my time playing on the playground. I remember hearing words like Tutvuu. It made no sense. There was no word like that. I’d never heard of such a word before. I spent hours dwelling on what it could mean. But the answer never came to me. I remember I even asked my mum once what it meant. She confirmed what I’d always thought.

“Deborah please __ there is no such word.”

I realized maybe I heard wrong. It couldn’t be. It was probably a nickname or something. My mind couldn’t help asking me why I felt it was a name. Who would call their son or daughter a name like Tutvuu? It made absolutely no sense.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the loud sound made by the car’s brakes. I looked up. We were in All Saints High Primary School. When I told my friends what school my mother and father were sending me to. I remember their eyes becoming so wide.

Margaret said something like __ “You are going to a rich man’s school.”

I was puzzled. I couldn’t understand what that meant. Maybe the school had been built by a very rich man. That was probably what she meant.

Mother stopped in front of a large building. The roof was so high up I had to lean backwards before I could see it. Everything looked new. As if it had been built not long ago.

The students walking around looked ___ ‘I don’t know’ different. Their clothes were shiny. Their watches looked as if they’d just been removed from a shopping mall. Like the mall dad sometimes takes me. I tried to remember the name. I couldn’t for a while. And then I remembered. Shoprite! Dad sometimes took me to Shoprite. I decided to make sure I asked him to take me there again when he came back from his business trip.

If he and mum were going to make me come to this school I was going to make sure I got something out of it. I rehearsed and planned what I would say and how I would say it.

“Daddy I want you to take me to Shoprite. I want you to buy me cake and ice-cream and I also want to watch a movie in the cinema. Mum taught me how to check the cinema’s website to know what was showing at the cinema. Toy Story 4 was in cinemas now. Dad bought me Toy Story 1-3 on a DVD. I must have watched it a hundred times. I felt excited. I always did when my parents took me to the mall.

“Come out Deborah __ let’s go and see your class teacher.”

I frowned. What I wanted did not matter. My parents had made all the arrangements. Now I had a new class teacher. I liked Mr. Busari __ my old class teacher. He knew all the stories. He knew what we liked and every time he taught us __ even the stupidest amongst us always understood. My mum called him a gifted man. Or like she sometimes said to my father when she thought I wasn’t listening. She called him ‘a man with all the gifts.’ I still did not understand what she meant by that. Maybe I never would __ especially since I only heard them as I was passing.

The inside of the school was even shinier than the outside. The smell of fresh paint was everywhere. Students; boys and girls looked at me strangely as I walked down the long hall behind my mother. Something told me they knew I was new. As if some mark on my head showed everyone this was my first day. I frowned at some of them. Some looked surprised that I was frowning, others simply frowned back. A few smiled at me. That surprised me. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be at my old school which was all I knew. Mum and dad didn’t understand. To them I was simply a foolish little girl who had no choice or say in the matter. I felt like a fool.

Chapter Three

The class teacher was beautiful. Besides my mum I don’t think I had ever seen a woman that beautiful. She wore glasses, a good black skirt and a clean white blouse.

She rose from her desk __ bent down and shook my hand. Her hand was warm to the touch. I felt her love and her warmth. As she spoke with my mummy and I listened I found I didn’t miss my old school that much.

She and mum talked for a few more moments and then mum was gone. That was after she bent and gave me a hug which I returned. But I wasn’t too hurt by her absence because of my new class teacher who I was starting to like a great deal. I was already beginning to forget Mr. Busari. She made me want to be close to her forever.

“Everyone I want you to meet our new addition to our class. This is Deborah Akinmade. Everyone say hello to her.”

“Hello!” They all said at once. I looked at each face in turn. Some faces were friendly, some were bored and others were not so friendly. Mum had a word for it but I couldn’t remember it no matter how much I tried to. It began with an ‘h’ and sounded like hos__ I couldn’t make it out. So I didn’t bother trying again. My class teacher started talking again.

“We have a tradition in our school and class__” She began. I couldn’t stop myself from frowning. I didn’t know what the word ‘tradition’ meant. As if she could sense that, she explained further.

“What that means is __ we have a way of doing things here. Every new student tells the class something about themselves. It could be an experience that is something you went through, a story you read; anything. Is there something you could share with us Deborah??”

I thought, trying to come up with something. And then it hit me almost immediately. But it was something I had never told anyone, even my parents. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. It almost two years ago it happened. It was such a special moment for me. I wasn’t with any of my friends when it happened. And I hadn’t been able to tell anyone about it until now.

Could I share it with my new class? Something in my spirit told me I could tell everyone. I was a bit nervous. Where would I begin? And would my class teacher and my new class mates not think I am mad? The voice in my spirit spoke again. ‘Tell me Deborah __ do not be afraid __ I am with you.’ As soon as I heard that I knew I had to tell them. He had spoken and I could not disobey him. So I cleared my throat and began to speak.

“Yes madam. I have something to share.” I spoke slow and my voice was shaky.

“Is it an experience or a story Deborah?”

“It is a bit of both madam.”

She nodded and gave me permission to continue. I nodded and began.

“Good morning madam and good morning class. My name is Deborah Akimade and I am nine years old. I want to tell you about the day I saw an angel __”

As I expected the classroom exploded with gasps, shouts and shrieks. Even my class teacher looked shocked. I understood now why I never told anyone about this until now.

Fights, crickets and birds

2019-03-26T04:31:00.000-07:00

Dad and mum are at it again

At times like this I’d run far away until I no longer feel am the one to blame

There are days I feel lost as they fight themselves again and again

Only then do I let the magical things into my little game

The game I play when I am far away, away from strife, away from loss and what some have come to call the cross

The cross of what? I ask myself as I trudge across miles of empty space deep in thought

Then do the multicolored birds come

They sing, speaking in words I cannot comprehend0

Words that take me high and do not allow me to descend

Words that make me miss the weekend when dad and mum will shout until my skin tingles and I hear the neighbors say these people are wicked

It embarrasses me __ but what else could this be likened

The words ‘good grief’ never felt so apt and true.

While I navigate the heavens filled with magic and I no longer hear the fights and the abuse. I know in my heart I’ve found what the heavens know is true…. And that’s you.

Peace, tranquility and the abundance owned by little but a few.

Merry Ol Nigeria - Land of Black Gold

2018-09-12T00:25:00.002-07:00

We live in a world rife with injustices. A world of unfairness, unfaithfulness, seeded with corruption. A world where right is categorized as wrong, and wrong categorized as right.

I live in a world of beautiful scenery, prettier people, with a heart for giving; hardworking, relentless, willing to pursue their objectives in spite of the ugly cards life has dealt them. It’s here you find people going about their business; to church, work, the million other places normal people go; even when an uncaring government doesn’t pay them their dues.

This is a world where people build beauty out of ashes. A country where mothers do all to ensure their wards don’t go hungry. A world where constant power is something of a distant memory; a world where leaders tell us we should be grateful to receive what citizens in other countries call rights.

They steal our money, smear our honour and the worst part is we give them a hero’s welcome after their dastardly deeds come to light. We are for lack of a better term idiotic and foolish; the bane of the average Nigerian. Personally I don’t blame the bloodsucking leaders. I blame the citizens, the ruled who are unwilling to get off their fat butts and tell these godless despots that they aren’t doing what they ought to do. We simply celebrate them, sing their praises to high heavens just cos of a bowl of porridge, the five thousand, two thousand, ten thousand they give to sell your soul to the devil.

This is our world. This is our time ___ a mineral resource filled goldmine, a perfect creation of the divine. This is black world, a black Nirvana; a place I’ll like to call merry ol’ Nigeria.

Failure in the corridors of power

2018-05-14T09:31:00.000-07:00

This country could be regarded as the eighth wonder of the world. But not in the way you think and not in a good way either. I marvel when some people for some sick twisted reasons of their own will go as far as saying the last three administration’s performance was anything short of dissatisfactory. I’d go as far as say criminal and even treasonable.

Life here is on the verge of anarchy. The system is broken. It doesn’t work; the worst part is no one seems to want it to work. Whining about it, arguing about it doesn’t do spit either. Some facebook jokers went on the social network lauding and praising the present administration for a job well done.

It got me wondering if they were accepting some sort of payout for talking ‘the good talk’ about the government. Yoruba’s have a saying that ‘Nkan ti o da ko daa.’ *Which translates to what is wrong is wrong. I don’t see how anyone seeing what goes on here will say everything is fine and dandy.

Take my neighbourhood for instance. Exactly eight days ago, torrential rains brought down an electric pole. It holds the high tension wire leading to the street’s transformer. The Benin Electric distribution company left it lying on the street without doing anything about it.

For eight solid days we haven’t had electricity. Except for the few lucky enough to own generating sets which feeds them for as many hours as each family can afford.

It has taken the BEDC eight whole days to restore power to us for a pole that fell down. Now my question is this __ how long will it take them to restore power if the main power plant in the town was to like say __ blow up! Maybe we won’t have light for five years.

How does a nation that thrives on inefficiency expect to move forward? Say what you like about Oyedepo, Adeboye and other mega church leaders but they seemed to have succeeded in solving the electricity situation on their church estates.

The fact that these campuses can have 24 hour electricity proves that it can be done. No one seems to want to own up to responsibility. What I’ve seen most Nigerian leaders do is to pass the buck, play the blame game. Blame past administrators for their failures instead of sitting down responsibly and working out a plan to remove Nigeria from the quagmire it is presently.

Listen up fellow Nigerians. The buck stops here. Stop finding excuses for failure and start working out feasible plans to get things in this country to work. Start with your own lives and lets work it out from there. The Bible says the world is eagerly waiting for the manifestation of the sons of God.

Our parent’s have had their shot and messed up. It’s our turn now. Have you ever stopped to think what coming generations will have to say about us if we do not do all not just to succeed but to make our nation succeed. The buck stops here people. OWN IT!!!

Third world country living

2018-04-02T08:42:00.002-07:00

Name : - Akintomide Ifedayo Adigwe

Phone Numbers: - +2347030136545, +2347050458508

Website: - http://semanticdmax.wixsite.com/akintomideifedayo

Twitter handle: @semanticdmax

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/akintomideifedayoadigwe/

Life in a third world country

Life in a third world country is usually worse than most would suggest, it becomes more deadly if you’re one of many who earn less than a dollar a day. I earn ninety dollars a month which is quite low when you consider how expensive everything is __ food, utilities; the list goes on.

But truth be told am one of the lucky ones to have even found work at all. Nigeria is a beautiful country; fertile lands, extensive mineral and material resources which are for the most part being squandered by the political elite; cabals who like nothing better than to keep the countrys’ economics and people under a tight leash.

It’s hard however to be ungrateful when I consider how many years I sweated to get a job at all. I teach twenty six impressionable children, whose age range is between six and eight years old.

The job has its challenges as everything on earth does. Trying to impart knowledge into children who’d rather play than work; you could come into conflict with their overprotective parents. Another negative is seeing children being emotional abused or neglected by the people supposed to see to their well being.

Surviving in Nigeria is like trying to navigate a mine field with only a pencil thin flashlight for company in the darkness of night. To some that might sound like a gross exaggeration but it happens to be the truth.

You’ve probably heard reports of terrorist attacks, but that isn’t what I am talking about here. What I am referring to is the unfavourable working and living conditions.

Bill Gates was in the country a few days ago. He said Nigeria is one of the most dangerous places for a woman to give birth. Many disagreed with him but I felt his words were a right assessment of what most Nigerians go through on a daily basis.

This brings to mind something that happened to a friend two weeks back. She went into labour. Her first mistake was registering for antenatal care at the town’s general hospital, which many describe it as a neutering/death centre.

Her experience was an alarming indicator of how deep corruption has eaten into the nation’s systems. The doctors have a system they employ. When women come to give birth, they’re referred to private hospitals in town citing lack of appropriate equipment as the cause. These private hospital owners carry out unwarranted caesarean operations on these women raking up huge medical bills in the process which when paid are shared between the private hospital owners and the doctors at the general hospital.

My family friend lost the baby; it went into distress early in the labour process. She almost lost her life too. A complaint was filed but the general hospital staff denied it saying she chose not to continue her treatment there and had insisted she be referred to a private hospital. That was how the whole thing was swept under the rug.

This is one of a million cases which are buried on a daily basis. A pastor of one of the most popular Christian assemblies said humorously that every family in Nigeria is like a nation on its own.

Why you might ask? Well the reason is every family finds themselves responsible for providing their own electricity (Because we get on average three hours electricity a day. The saddest part is they bring bogus bills every month which we are forced to pay for. Nigeria is the only country I know where we pay for services not rendered), water and security.

The life of a man working in a third world society as dangerous as what obtains in Nigeria is a trial. But it is a trial we have no choice but to face, pushing on to a future we hope will be brighter than what we see today.

Blackmail??

2018-04-02T08:41:00.001-07:00

An argument erupted among friends a few hours ago. The premise to the less informed could be termed stupid. One of my guys put forward a question. His question or should we say statement was would there be more virgins in the world if men stopped coercing and blackmailing women into having sex.

He threw the question out there and for the next four hours or so guys started trashing it out, arguing for or against the premise. I on the other hand was on the side of the nays.

I based my argument on the fact that I do not think anyone can be coerced into doing anything without some sort of leverage. Maybe you have dirt on the person or what not. There is a form of manipulation going on in most relationships and I do admit men manipulate women but women manipulate men too.

That does not imply I do not accept people; especially women aren’t in abusive relationships but those in that category in my opinion do not make up to half of the dating population. Life for the most part has choice and free will wired into it.

If you’re not in some sort of human sex trafficking thing how pray can one claim you were coerced into doing something you did not want to do? As depraved as the world has gotten in the last couple of years, aren’t there still some people who are doing things the right way?

Sex before marriage is basically an acceptable norm now. But aren’t there those who aren’t engaging in sexual intercourse before marriage? Most often it might not be because of religion or some other warped sense of self righteousness. Their decision could just be based on personal preferences.

The world has evolved to such an extent that wrong is termed right and right wrong. What obtains now is most people try to hide their shortcomings by excusing away their behaviour. The guy says I have needs; so he keeps bullying his girl to have sex until she folds and sleeps with him. His excuse being he intends to marry her eventually. The girl hides her guilt by explaining it away that the guy coerced her into doing what she didn’t want to do. She does this because her conscience keeps disturbing her.

I do not think there is any excuse for wrongdoing. No matter how right and pleasurable it could seem. If you do wrong why not (like Harley Quinn said in suicide squad) own up to that sh__? You cannot tell me as an innocent woman you leave your house and go to a guy’s place when you know he is alone and not realize you’re courting trouble. If he makes a move you say he coerced you. You can’t tell me sex wasn’t on your mind when you went to see him.

We manipulate ourselves on a daily basis. Both sexes do it. Girls use sex to control and get things from their men. Men use women’s gullibility and soft side to make them do what they want. Why then should God send people to hell if they can’t help their wrongdoing? Am guessing its cos he knows they have the power to say no to evil but choose not to. No man or woman (except with some extenuating circumstances; like blackmail, trafficking et al) can convince me they were forced to do what they didn’t want to do in a relationship. You did it because you secretly wanted to.

Thoughts please ___

What I know and have known ___

2018-03-23T01:59:00.001-07:00

They call it a wrinkle __ but unlike most wrinkles it isn't resident on the skin. This wrinkle is in the mind and in time __ forward or backwards __ it makes little or no difference. It is time and in perpetual flux.
Mercies of the divine cannot be overemphasized or overstated. I have tasted death __ touched the fringes of its dark surface __
I have known pain __ lain awake, troubled by the excruciating effect of it. I have known love __ the kind that makes a man a fool __ the kind that makes even the most busy lose their minds and more importantly their time.
I have known desertion ___when you look around __ desperately seeking companionship __ and you're alone __ tormented by the horrors of it
I have seen mother __ standing like a rock beside me __ ever encouraging __ while God who owns all drove strength into the fight that was so thick __
I have known failure __ been castigated many a time because of it __ I have found myself lost __ running a race forces never wanted me to win.
I have seen hurt __ given hurt _ I have known loss __ I have been a man I didn't want to be __
I have heard calls __ calls of anger, calls of wonder, calls of hate, calls of delay, calls of abandonment and decay __ but HIS call was all that mattered to me. It was his call I answered that am still standing __ being a man of flesh and blood that you see
I was given a voice __which I sound through my words so you can see and believe __ that HE IS REAL!
I was given purpose when the dream was delivered to me. And it is this purpose I share with thee. Why you may ask me__ to show you he is real and is able to do everything for you if you can only believe. Please BELIEVE AND IT WILL BE WELL WITH THEE.
He is real and can perceive that which you struggle with.
He gave me life, the gift and the dream __ once again HE IS REAL

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The Hunt __

2018-03-22T01:09:00.001-07:00

What I chase is bigger than me __ what chases me is __ well that's another story. I am a man on a search for what others regard as heresy. I am a man led by something most couldn't fathom even if was right by their feet.
Time and placement has no part in what I believe __ the vision is so fantastic that it would be lunacy to tell any except the greatest believers what erupts to the surface from my spirit.
I am on a road that I thought I would travel alone with no one beside me. Why? Some may ask me __
The reason being I never thought any would be brave enough to follow the uncertainties that are my dreams
I am a man who has known loss, abandonment and a host of other things. I am a man who has known sickness, unrighteousness and a displeasure at the forces that exist simply to resist and discredit me.
I am a man of dreams __ who for the strangest of reasons God loves in-spite of how many times I fall on the path to the glory of it all.
I am a man trying to understand HIM! If I could understand him even a percentage of how he gets me __ I would be much further along than this. The only thing I do know with any certainty is that for some fathomless reason __ he loves me.
The path ahead must be trod alone __ no help __ no solace __ only the one I receive from him. The saints above are cheering as they watch it all __ I imagine them fall silent as I fall again and again. But every time I do I always hear the words GET UP! GET UP! The war's not over yet.
I am chasing something bigger than all I see __ I can only hope God in his infinite mercies will help me get to it

What there is ___

2018-03-16T04:29:00.002-07:00

I see a sea of eyes __ some crying, some with a smile __ smiles that aren't fooling anyone __ I see hidden tears just struggling to burst to the surface__ I see fears __ holding men captive __ A false bravado that has become sort of adaptive
To what you might ask __ to the human species.
There is world beyond what seeth the captives __ there is hope __ or a hope (if hope can be quantified that is __) there is a vessel of honor and righteousness which at the moment is buried so deep.
There is a lifting coming from what some may think is some bizarre sort of dark vixen. And there is a truth which gives life everlasting coming from within old and century bound pages
Most importantly __ there is a God __ who sits on his throne above __ doing nothing more than watching over us.
There is a beginning __ life has to start from something __ there is a middle __ for most this is no more than a riddle __ while some dark pipe piper plays an unruly fiddle __ and lastly there is an end __ it is a place where rules can no longer be bent __ where after a life well spent __ you'll be held accountable for how you lived until the end.
There is me __ there is also you __ following these words line by line __ so true. There is a vessel __ it could be me __ it could be you __ one day we'll know who is true.
There is a light __ beyond man's normal sight __ it is a delight for those that have drunk from its lofty height __ there is might __ a spiritual altercation going on and on until the mysteries of a thousand generations would reach a final conclusion.
There is her __ there is also me __ there is them __ those beyond my reach __ there is breakthrough __ oh __ how sweet! Then there is evanescence! A bright flash of light and a breath of fresh air to those who can tune to it.
There is Akintomide Ifedayo Adigwe and there is the world __ pondering on the intricacies of it all. There is dawn and that my friends brings an end to my weird and pointless call.

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A world

2018-03-13T04:28:00.000-07:00

Our world is one plagued by darkness. Not darkness of the disturbing sort __ but a physical sort of darkness __ the kind when you have no electricity. The powers that be call this the land of the free __ the giants of this great continent where millions live. But this giant is one that is on its final stretch, weakly clinging onto life while blood sucking ticks called politicians are slowly sucking it dry.
We live in a world plagued by suffering, even as I consider this __ it is suffering of the wretched unforgiving. Men trampling over the rights of the poor, the weak __ and dare I say the stupid.
This is a world where great men have lived, great men have been and more importantly great men have been birthed.
Alas we are a shadow of the giant we used to be. Like barely digestible fiction to the gourmet attraction of the real thing which you savor like a three course meal. We have no light, we have no roads, we have no love or affection for each other. Even when one party breaks through the quagmire that is poverty, the only thing he or she thinks to do is use his new found riches to oppress the little ones around him.
I am a man puzzled by all I see. A man sometimes plagued by doubts and insecurities while many gather like flesh eating birds intent on feeding on carrion. Mockers __ my next science fiction book will have them as the quintessential antagonists. I find myself abandoned by even family. Through it all __ the only light at my door is __ the only one I adore. Through this darkness we trudge __ alone __ with no one save God. With only a pencil thin flashlight to take us forward.
In a nation of the lost __ we were lucky we found __ each other __ gathered solace and strength from one another to fight a war that wants nothing better than to tear us asunder.
In some ways __ in a fashion __ perhaps this uncaring world exists to test our mettle. Or maybe I am to ignite the light within to light up my surroundings.
She walks with me __ stride for stride __ blow for blow __ concussive burst for concussive burst __ shielding our selves from the blood, guts and the hammering that comes and seems to want to come for ever after.
Our world is Nigeria __ and it is a world fully capable of driving a man to hysteria.

Jabber

2018-02-23T02:56:00.001-08:00

The kids jibber and jabber around me __ but even the noise doesn't drown the impatience I feel. I am angry with the world __ impatient with life __ as I ponder on the fact that things aren't moving as fast as I would like.
All the proposals have been written. It's sad to see many would rather seen the righteous smitten. These are words that were unavoidably bidden. Because of the change raging from beneath.
Weariness flows deep into my limbs __ I ask this question as I wonder if I have sinned.
What dark saber is this? There are enemies I do see, who want to see all I hold dear destroyed; dead and forgotten. I fight to realize my dreams even as some dark voices tell me this is a war I cannot win.
If I let the words continue destruction will come quicker than a knife to the ribs. For now I must persevere, I must look forward, walk hand in hand with God who can make all things possible in both financial and spiritual ways.
My eyes are fastened on the heaven as I wonder what will be my pleasure. If the curtain falls without all this being delivered I would have achieved nothing. But I know this will not be my portion. The light of God will shine on my pavilion and this time there shall be a grateful celebration to celebrate his faithfulness in my life and hopefully put all this to rest. I do not intend to live in regret.

Memories

2018-02-09T01:19:00.000-08:00

Every day I am at work by 7.15am sharp. The deadline is 7.30. For the eleven months plus a few days I’ve been working in the small school where I teach primary school students whose age range is between six and eight, I have never gotten to work late. In some respects the job is satisfactory __ You kinda feel like a potter moulding the lives and destinies of bright young minds.

But there are days I cannot help but remember my more carefree days. When I was in a College of Education in a very small town called Ondo State which I am sure many have never heard of. Life was easier then __ no drag of nine to five __ no bills to pay __ just getting through the academic hurdle so I could be handed my degree.

Truth be told I did more playing than reading. Let me fill you in on a little back story. I never wanted to be in a College of Education. In my country being in a college of education meant you had to teach and back then boy did I not want to be a teacher. The ironic part is I ended up doing just that.

But I digress __ I hated every minute of being there for the first six months until I made some friends. They were actually friends of my younger brother who became my friends when I found myself in the same class as him.

We had so many wild escapades together. One time my brother and I; hellions that we were, stumbled on a knee high bottle of our dad’s hundred percent whisky. Ecstatic with our find we called the guys together and decided to throw a little shindig. Joshua or Josh as we like to call him got a couple of girls together, including a vacant apartment which would serve as the venue. The speed with which he got things together took my breath away. What none of us stopped to consider was if our bodies could stand the strain of a hundred percent alcohol whisky.

The party arrived, girls turned up in droves and we got the music going. Some of my luckier dudes (my brother inclusive) retired to some of the spare rooms to make out with girls.

I remember Josh racing to me with a cup of this whisky, was hesitant about tasting it. Something in my gut warned me it wouldn’t end well. Josh seeing I wasn’t going to go down without a fight persuaded me the only way he could. He challenged my manhood. Saying I was a chicken, that even the girls took a good swig of it.

Stung by his words I took a generous gulp. It only took a few seconds and I started having reactions. First came the warmth, the intense happiness and the pricking sensation behind my eyeballs. It was as if a sharp needle was trying to poke its way out of the back of my corneas.

A little worried now; I called Josh and asked him if he was having a pricking sensation behind his eyeballs. He reacted the way only Josh could; laughter __ a long bout of annoying laughter.

Before I completely lost sense of what was happening boys and girls who’d dared the hundred percent alcohol whisky started acting very strangely. One girl sat down with her head between her legs and started laughing uncontrollably.

Another of my friends leapt on a car and started doing a Michael Jackson impression. He was barely halfway through when he suddenly collapsed on the hood of the car and conked out until morning.

My brother and one of his girlfriends (and yeah he had many) stumbled out as if hit on the head with a hammer. There was a shallow gutter a few metres away from the house’s entrance. He made it to the edge before kneeling down and throwing up uncontrollably. The most disturbing part was __ whenever he came up for air he’d release a guffaw of what could best be described as maniacal laughter.

He vomited for close to thirty minutes and laughed for another forty. By which time his girlfriend was convinced he’d gone insane. I got off the hood of the car I’d been sitting on and managed to make it into the apartment. My destination was one of the rooms but I could only make it as far as the couch where I passed out for the night. My sleep was dreamless. Like someone hit me over the head with a hammer.

When I woke up my friends regaled me stories of what happened after I slept. We reached an unspoken decision never to raid our father’s liquor closet again.

Some of the girls aren’t speaking to us till today, and I can’t say I blame them.

A crippling bride price

2017-07-07T03:37:00.001-07:00

Her eyes were clouded with pain ___ the pain wasn't dissimilar from the one in my heart. I hated to see her this way. It hurt me more than anything. The worst part was, she felt this pain because of me. She was literally fighting to be with me.
Her parent's for lack of a better adjective to use are 'tools!' A wise man once postulated that the enemies of a man are in his house. I used to think people from the east were beautiful people. My mum hails from the eastern part of the country and she is one of the most beautiful and sacrificing people I know. My dad ___ well___ let's just say there is literally no one on the planet earth that is quite like him. You decide if I mean that in a good way __ lol
But these easterners that call themselves mother and father to the girl of my dreams are some of the worst people I have ever seen. A Yoruba man without much experience relating with easterners might be tempted to think every easterner is a money grubbing blood sucking tick. Fortunately having related with my mum for thirty seven and a half years I am able to give the benefit of the doubt that perhaps all easterners aren't like this.
I want to marry their daughter; no harm no foul, a man's gotta get hitched sometime. And if you've get a caring, loving and seductive beauty hanging on your every word you'd want to tie the knot as soon as possible. Until perhaps her dad goes home under the guise of securing the marriage list (dowry) and you discover he is trying to bill you over Three Million Naira just because you want to marry his daughter. I chuckle as I write this, asking myself if he ever thought to ask if I have seen that amount of money in my life.
My journey to marry has been ___ well __ a blessing (speaking through the veil of hope). My mother took one look at the list and bailed vowing never to darken the steps of the (as she put it) FOOLISH MAN. But it gets worse __ after my dad and I being diplomatic appealed to him to accept between a hundred and fifty thousand and two hundred thousand (which I'd still have had to save for). He now gave the knock out punch.
He said even if I was dropping that small amount of money I'd have to sign a sort of MOU. Put it in writing and sign that I am still owing him money. My dad and I were speechless! It was surreal. It got us wondering whether he was in the business of selling his daughters. A daughter I might add he did not train. She has been doing all manner of menial jobs to see herself through school from a very young age. And most times when she brings her salary home under the guise of saving it for her he spends it on his own needs. His wife seems very supportive of this. Which makes me wonder; if one has parents' like that you really do not need enemies.
I have gotten a lot of friendly advice, from friends, spiritual fathers, family, the whole nine yards. The general consensus is I leave the girl and find someone else. The old person I used to be might have. But I will stick it out __ as long as she remains determined to be with me. The sun is rising across the deep.
Parents out there __ please listen to this. Your children are not commodities you batter and trade with at will. Your children are not bank accounts or safety deposit boxes that you can keep going out to withdraw as you please. The bible says a responsible parent will leave an inheritance for his children and children's children. It is good if your children take care of you when you're older but you shouldn't toy with their destinies cos you want to become a millionaire overnight. Easterners in Nigeria, hear this and hear this well. Stop selling your daughters __ a good son in law who sees how fair you were when giving out your daughter will always respect and admire you for it. And if he is decent will make sure he does everything to treat the girl well. A word is enough for the wise.

Diary of a lost lonely woman vol 2

2017-05-29T02:34:00.003-07:00

I remember that December as if it were yesterday... The harmattan season had just kicked in.. the chill was everywhere.. we were days away from exams and my school fees had not been paid.

I stared at the plate of cake in front of me astounded at the obtuseness and insensitivity of my so called loving boyfriend's. They showered me with useless gifts instead of giving me something I could really use... Like MONEY!

Sam and Joshua were even better.. it was that creep Henry that was the worst. My body started to get all tingly as I thought of him. The familiar flood of self loathing filled me.

It never ceased to amaze how I could still be in love with that piece of crap after all he'd done to me. I was for lack of a better term nothing more than a bitch to him. Tears filled my eyes and I rubbed them away fiercely. Now was not the time to pine and cry over spilt milk. It didn't solve my immediate problem. MY BLOODY SCHOOL FEES!!

Just then my room mate walked in. Everyone knew what sort of person she was. I was small fry. Someone like her didn't soil her breeches by messing with small fry like I did. The boys at school were beneath her. She dealt with me. REAL men! Elderly, with plenty of cash to burn. Not sure why her eyes drifted my way that day. Usually the only greeting I expected from her was a perfunctory nod in my direction

But that day she took one look at me and asked "What's wrong?" In retrospect I think she probably sensed easy prey... Gullible gal's like me she could bend to her will by showing a little care and concern.

Sad to say I bought into her crap and found myself telling her everything. She gave me one look after I was done and chuckled. "Is that all? I thought you had cancer or something. Well that's not a problem. Are you serious about getting a solution to your school fees problem?"

I nodded violently. She smiled again and said ____ "Then it's settled__ we're going out tonight. There is someone I want to introduce you to who can make all your financial problems go away."

I sat up, really interested. "Who is this man? What is his name?"

"His name my dear is Mustapha Hajji. And he is the only man who can give you what you need. See you at nine pm."

And with a swirl of her wide skirt she was gone. I pondered on her words for nearly an hour afterwards. I didn't realize then that was the beginning of another chapter in my life... The GENESIS of my downward spiral to destruction and loneliness. That was the day I met Mustapha Hajji.... More when we speak again

Spirits within?

How do fobs work.... Used with permission

How Do Fobs Work?

How Do Fobs Work?

With different digital numbers & access.

Key Fobs Are Assigned Hexadecimal Access Codes

Lobby Access As Well as Floor Access in Condos

How Fobs Work is Encoded Data

‘Bits’ to Be Converted for Encoding

Hexadecimal RFID Data Assignment

Summary: Bits -> Hex -> User Identification + Facility Code

Infographic: How RFID Works

Further reading on how fobs work from an RFID perspective

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Downtown Office

North York Office

Before Next Steps.

More Details:

We are located Downtown and Uptown:

More Questions?

What is love?

Not enough words

Ticks and tocks

The man called alone..

Ramblings and a little touch of....

She....

An unbridled passion

The deepest of connections

Darkness and Beauty

Vestige of the unspoken word

The day I saw an angel - An excerpt

Fights, crickets and birds

Merry Ol Nigeria - Land of Black Gold

Failure in the corridors of power

Third world country living

Blackmail??

What I know and have known ___

The Hunt __

What there is ___

A world

Jabber

Memories

A crippling bride price

Diary of a lost lonely woman vol 2