Monday, 30 December 2019
Activist Deji Adeyanju
Activist Deji Ageyanju was attacked in Abuja Nigeria, at what began as a peaceful protest to free unlawful detainees, which at the time included journalist, activist, and founder of Sahara Reporters, Omoyele Sowore.
Deji was flown to Dubai for treatment.
A spokesman for the pro Buhari supporters who are suspected to be those responsible, has since said- that the attack was stage managed.... by Deji's own people.
So... just to be clear...Deji agreed to allow himself to be beaten?.. kicked in the head?
Given that the entire incident was caught on camera, what is somewhat incredible is that no-one was arrested for it.
Ladies.. if Deji was your husband or partner.... what would you say to him? given that the very people he thinks he's trying to help - would kick him in the head for his efforts in broad daylight.
It's okay to disagree about things, but why hurt a person over it...
There's ungrateful.. and there's ungrateful...and there's clueless
The struggle is real in some places
Hmmmm...
Get well soon Deji.
Deji was flown to Dubai for treatment.
A spokesman for the pro Buhari supporters who are suspected to be those responsible, has since said- that the attack was stage managed.... by Deji's own people.
So... just to be clear...Deji agreed to allow himself to be beaten?.. kicked in the head?
Given that the entire incident was caught on camera, what is somewhat incredible is that no-one was arrested for it.
Ladies.. if Deji was your husband or partner.... what would you say to him? given that the very people he thinks he's trying to help - would kick him in the head for his efforts in broad daylight.
It's okay to disagree about things, but why hurt a person over it...
There's ungrateful.. and there's ungrateful...and there's clueless
The struggle is real in some places
Hmmmm...
Get well soon Deji.
Sunday, 29 December 2019
Weekend WOW Factor: Puzzle Practice
A gift for the family was a 1000 piece puzzle, so I decided to work on it today
Yay!!, I thought , no problem
I must really be out of practice because this LITTLE LOT took me over 3hrs! (just 1000 pieces?!..yikes )
Lo!!
..quite enjoyed it tho... looking forward to finishing this
Spent some time at mums watching 80's music videos, and enjoyed every minute - good memories
Sting is just the best, so much so that it was Sting I listened to all the way to Rwanda... and all the way back. Mentioned that to my sister who said - ok - you like Sting then
Yay!!, I thought , no problem
I must really be out of practice because this LITTLE LOT took me over 3hrs! (just 1000 pieces?!..yikes )
Lo!!
..quite enjoyed it tho... looking forward to finishing this
Spent some time at mums watching 80's music videos, and enjoyed every minute - good memories
Sting is just the best, so much so that it was Sting I listened to all the way to Rwanda... and all the way back. Mentioned that to my sister who said - ok - you like Sting then
Thursday, 26 December 2019
Sunday, 22 December 2019
Micro Story - Lock Door
The day had arrived when he would bring a Calabash filled with gifts such as the bride price, a needle and thread, Kolo nuts, a Bible and Quran, and envelopes filled with money addressed to different family members.
The bride price is the money the groom pays to the bride’s family for her hand in marriage, the needle and thread signifies that in times of difficulty they will seek to mend and repair any problems they face. The Kolo nuts, are a reminder that there will be bitterness in marriage but in the end, sweetness prevails. The Bible and Quran are to allow God to enter and remain present in the home, and the money addressed to different family members, is a thank you for the role they each played in the brides life.
This was my very own, Lock Door.
Once complete, I would no longer be free to date. I would be engaged!.
I initially had no desire to marry, least of all a man twenty years older. I was 20, he was forty, yet he looked even older. I had noticed him hanging around our family home, and that he often brought alcohol for my dad, and fish and meat for my mother. I stayed away as much as possible whenever he came around, as I had noticed him staring at me, even licking his lips on one occasion . ‘creepy crab’, I called him.
My sisters would tease me often , saying he would ‘use him yam to silence my rude mouth’.
I told them that the yam was stale mouldy ugly and old, and only a desperate woman after his money would allow that yam to enter her pot.
Yet here I was, accepting the 'creepy crab's proposal.
His happy smile and countenance did not diminish over time. The entire day it was he who smiled the largest.
When the front door knocked,and my parents asked ‘who is it,?’and ‘what had he come for?’ I was hoping that as my sisters came downstairs, and he was asked if ‘that was the one’, that he would say yes, and choose one of them, But he didn’t. It was upon seeing me that he pointed, ‘that one’.
My parents were happy, my sisters were also happy because they got to enjoy a party, and my husband and his family were overjoyed.
This would be his second marriage. His 1st Wife died under ‘suspicious circumstances’ people used to say, but in truth she died of malaria. Before I had decided to accept his proposal, I used to say he had killed his own wife, but I no longer said so.
My sisters laughed and at the large gap in his two from teeth, which at the time filled me with absolute disgust, and fear. I could barely look at his gap and not have some strange image surface in my mind. I had a gap also. It’s seen as beauty in a woman here. For years I didn’t like it , and refused to smile, yet I began to love it over time.
He put the ring on my finger in front of everyone, and all the guests cheered.
The ring was a beautiful diamond, set on a plain gold band. It was in the refection of the diamond, that he began to look more attractive. I knew that to marry a man who loved me more than I loved him would be the best option for me. A man who had a good job, and a business, an intelligent man who knew how to treat and respect, a woman.
I knew his eagerness would not keep other women away, as most women here are attracted to married men with money, and they will openly tell you, 'there’s no such thing as an ugly man, unless he is poor'.
As the dancing subsided, and guests began to leave, my sisters asked me what it was that had changed my mind and encouraged me to marry.
My elder sister seemed to understand my change of heart more than my younger more naive sisters.
I told them it was because I was tired of being let down. I had dated my high school sweetheart all though school and university, only for him to leave me for someone else.
I explained to them that the young men who I had met seemed to only want one of two things, either sex or money. I told my sisters that I needed stability. That stability will be the foundation on which I could pursue my dream of becoming a scientist.
I explained that all the good looks in the world would not pay for my education, my upkeep, and needs, and whilst I had no intention of soley relying on my husband . I needed someone who I knew would take care of the essentials without confusion or contention.
I had dated three other men since I split with my childhood sweetheart, and one day I realised that despite the declarations of love that each had given to me, none had been sincere, or really knew how to love.
I said yes because I recognised that he was at least, a loyal man.
‘So is loyalty more important than love?’, my younger sisters asked
‘Yes’, I replied, ‘to me, it is, and you repay loyalty with loyalty'.
It was whilst speaking with my sisters that I realised something I hadn't realised before.
That I , Aminata Kamara, despite my anxst and protestations, I actually did love him.
The bride price is the money the groom pays to the bride’s family for her hand in marriage, the needle and thread signifies that in times of difficulty they will seek to mend and repair any problems they face. The Kolo nuts, are a reminder that there will be bitterness in marriage but in the end, sweetness prevails. The Bible and Quran are to allow God to enter and remain present in the home, and the money addressed to different family members, is a thank you for the role they each played in the brides life.
This was my very own, Lock Door.
Once complete, I would no longer be free to date. I would be engaged!.
I initially had no desire to marry, least of all a man twenty years older. I was 20, he was forty, yet he looked even older. I had noticed him hanging around our family home, and that he often brought alcohol for my dad, and fish and meat for my mother. I stayed away as much as possible whenever he came around, as I had noticed him staring at me, even licking his lips on one occasion . ‘creepy crab’, I called him.
My sisters would tease me often , saying he would ‘use him yam to silence my rude mouth’.
I told them that the yam was stale mouldy ugly and old, and only a desperate woman after his money would allow that yam to enter her pot.
Yet here I was, accepting the 'creepy crab's proposal.
His happy smile and countenance did not diminish over time. The entire day it was he who smiled the largest.
When the front door knocked,and my parents asked ‘who is it,?’and ‘what had he come for?’ I was hoping that as my sisters came downstairs, and he was asked if ‘that was the one’, that he would say yes, and choose one of them, But he didn’t. It was upon seeing me that he pointed, ‘that one’.
My parents were happy, my sisters were also happy because they got to enjoy a party, and my husband and his family were overjoyed.
This would be his second marriage. His 1st Wife died under ‘suspicious circumstances’ people used to say, but in truth she died of malaria. Before I had decided to accept his proposal, I used to say he had killed his own wife, but I no longer said so.
My sisters laughed and at the large gap in his two from teeth, which at the time filled me with absolute disgust, and fear. I could barely look at his gap and not have some strange image surface in my mind. I had a gap also. It’s seen as beauty in a woman here. For years I didn’t like it , and refused to smile, yet I began to love it over time.
He put the ring on my finger in front of everyone, and all the guests cheered.
The ring was a beautiful diamond, set on a plain gold band. It was in the refection of the diamond, that he began to look more attractive. I knew that to marry a man who loved me more than I loved him would be the best option for me. A man who had a good job, and a business, an intelligent man who knew how to treat and respect, a woman.
I knew his eagerness would not keep other women away, as most women here are attracted to married men with money, and they will openly tell you, 'there’s no such thing as an ugly man, unless he is poor'.
As the dancing subsided, and guests began to leave, my sisters asked me what it was that had changed my mind and encouraged me to marry.
My elder sister seemed to understand my change of heart more than my younger more naive sisters.
I told them it was because I was tired of being let down. I had dated my high school sweetheart all though school and university, only for him to leave me for someone else.
I explained to them that the young men who I had met seemed to only want one of two things, either sex or money. I told my sisters that I needed stability. That stability will be the foundation on which I could pursue my dream of becoming a scientist.
I explained that all the good looks in the world would not pay for my education, my upkeep, and needs, and whilst I had no intention of soley relying on my husband . I needed someone who I knew would take care of the essentials without confusion or contention.
I had dated three other men since I split with my childhood sweetheart, and one day I realised that despite the declarations of love that each had given to me, none had been sincere, or really knew how to love.
I said yes because I recognised that he was at least, a loyal man.
‘So is loyalty more important than love?’, my younger sisters asked
‘Yes’, I replied, ‘to me, it is, and you repay loyalty with loyalty'.
It was whilst speaking with my sisters that I realised something I hadn't realised before.
That I , Aminata Kamara, despite my anxst and protestations, I actually did love him.
Sunday, 15 December 2019
African Descendants Of The Slave Trade ft Music By Kizz Daniel - Jaho
The Year of Return, launched by Ghanaian President Nana Akufo - Addo is an initiative of the government of Ghana intended to encourage African's in the diaspora to come to Africa to settle and invest in the continent.
Given the huge number of Africans who left the shores of the Gold Coast, some sold, some kidnapped, into a life of slavery, whether America, Brazil or the Caribbean, it's not only a symbolic gesture, but an act of recognition of the role played by some African chiefs who at the time colluded with traders, and an act of respect for those removed from their homeland, to feel welcome to return, and rightfully so.
It's not surprising that many descendants of slavery gravitate to West Africa.
The spirit doesn't lie.
Equally it's not surprising that West and Central Africa have appeared to struggle irrefutably, ever since.
This is why the call for reparations is quite complex.
The slave trade was not a one sided affair.
Even if we like to believe it was.
What can be more meaningful than for our African leaders, whether political leaders or tribal chiefs to admit the role played by their forefathers, and embrace the examples set by countries such as Ghana and Gambia.
Lest their be a call in the future for the return of a stollen birthright.
Now that's a different kind of revolution.
It's important for all countries still struggling to find their feet, unlike some East African countries are doing, to place real development at the forefront, not only for themselves, or their kin and clan, but the entire country, and also for the descendants of the African slave trade, who also have rights, and who they all too often conveniently appear to forget, exist.
but are watching.
Given the huge number of Africans who left the shores of the Gold Coast, some sold, some kidnapped, into a life of slavery, whether America, Brazil or the Caribbean, it's not only a symbolic gesture, but an act of recognition of the role played by some African chiefs who at the time colluded with traders, and an act of respect for those removed from their homeland, to feel welcome to return, and rightfully so.
It's not surprising that many descendants of slavery gravitate to West Africa.
The spirit doesn't lie.
Equally it's not surprising that West and Central Africa have appeared to struggle irrefutably, ever since.
This is why the call for reparations is quite complex.
The slave trade was not a one sided affair.
Even if we like to believe it was.
What can be more meaningful than for our African leaders, whether political leaders or tribal chiefs to admit the role played by their forefathers, and embrace the examples set by countries such as Ghana and Gambia.
Lest their be a call in the future for the return of a stollen birthright.
Now that's a different kind of revolution.
It's important for all countries still struggling to find their feet, unlike some East African countries are doing, to place real development at the forefront, not only for themselves, or their kin and clan, but the entire country, and also for the descendants of the African slave trade, who also have rights, and who they all too often conveniently appear to forget, exist.
but are watching.
Saturday, 14 December 2019
Monday, 9 December 2019
Nnamdi Kanu: On Barrister Ejiofor, Igwe Oraifite, Mr Sowore, And Mr Emeka Offor
Sincere condolences to Nnamdi Kanu after the passing of his father.
Only Nnamdi can cuss us out like this and I still listen to him :)
Only Nnamdi can cuss us out like this and I still listen to him :)
Gambia's Tragic Loss
On the 27th of November, a boat carrying approximately 150 young men and women ( some sources have reported up to 180) left the shores of The Gambia.
Of all those aboard seeking a better life, 150 young economic migrants, heading to the Canary Islands - Spain, optimistic and hopeful, fearful, yet faithful, only 85 would make it past Mauritania, where the boat approached to refuel and obtain food.
As it was just off the shores of Mauritania, on Wednesday 4th December, that the boat sadly capsized.
Beautiful Gambia - a country where so many of us flock to year after year, taking perhaps, for granted, our freedom of movement, yet where for others, human trafficking is all too real
Gambian's often make up of largest group of migrants approached by smugglers to take this very perilous trip.
On this occasion the boat struck a rock, as it was met with rough seas and poor weather.
We really need to make it easier for people to travel abroad safely, if they so wish, as this was a sad day for Gambia, and Senegal.
To all who have suffered such a terrible loss, we are truly sorry.
Our sincere condolences, to all those aboard.
HE President Adama Barrow
Of all those aboard seeking a better life, 150 young economic migrants, heading to the Canary Islands - Spain, optimistic and hopeful, fearful, yet faithful, only 85 would make it past Mauritania, where the boat approached to refuel and obtain food.
As it was just off the shores of Mauritania, on Wednesday 4th December, that the boat sadly capsized.
Beautiful Gambia - a country where so many of us flock to year after year, taking perhaps, for granted, our freedom of movement, yet where for others, human trafficking is all too real
Gambian's often make up of largest group of migrants approached by smugglers to take this very perilous trip.
On this occasion the boat struck a rock, as it was met with rough seas and poor weather.
We really need to make it easier for people to travel abroad safely, if they so wish, as this was a sad day for Gambia, and Senegal.
To all who have suffered such a terrible loss, we are truly sorry.
Our sincere condolences, to all those aboard.
HE President Adama Barrow
Saturday, 7 December 2019
Why is my Christophine so tall?!
My mum gave me a Christophine a few weeks ago and told me to keep it indoors for now, and plant it out in the spring.. but it's grown so tall, and I don't know what to do with it
It grows like a vine and I think frost or not, I may have to plant it out and hope for the best
It's trying to wrap itself around my xmas tree
(if you look closely, you may spot what the 'problem' was... oops)
It grows like a vine and I think frost or not, I may have to plant it out and hope for the best
It's trying to wrap itself around my xmas tree
(if you look closely, you may spot what the 'problem' was... oops)
UK Elections Next Week
We have a general election next week.. and I wanna get may nails done lol.
Torys are ahead in the polls, but in truth you never know which way it will go
Will Boris Johnson have the shortest tenure in UK Prime ministerial history?
Or will Jeremy Corbyn defy his critics and actually win?
Not long now..
Torys are ahead in the polls, but in truth you never know which way it will go
Will Boris Johnson have the shortest tenure in UK Prime ministerial history?
Or will Jeremy Corbyn defy his critics and actually win?
Not long now..
Weekend WOW Factor : Why has Omoyele Sowore become Nigeria's Public Enemy No1.?
Well, that was some week.
Firstly, I must say.. Nigeria is a beautiful country...
But unfortunately, it seems at times, that the only thing spoiling Nigeria.. is Nigerians.
After the continued detention (against court orders), the DSS finally released activist and journalist Omoyele Sowore on Thursday...
(Sowore centre of pic)
...only to re-arrest him the very next day, whilst attending court
A room full of lawyers, and the presiding judge apparently had to run from the court for safety, amidst the oddest, disturbing, and most embarrassing scenes imaginable.
This is how it went down
(credit to Oak TV)
Regardless of whether or not this re-arrest has the backing of the government - the government may find themselves in a very precarious position, either way.
I can only shake my head in dismay at the developments - but support, concern, admiration and respect for Sowere continues to grow internationally.
on a superficial inappropriate yet related note -
how fit are the DSS guys??..
Heh heh...No.... not even my humour can negate the fact that what happened yesterday was a massive error of judgement.
Protestors and counter protestors had gathered outside the court in the morning.
Who were the counter protestors?
No idea, as it's reported that they were regular folk, paid to hold placards in support of the DSS.
One placard stated 'Sowore must pay for his sins!" .. Oh how I wish someone had interviewed the man so we can all know what Sowore's sins could possibly be... (and dare I ask...what of your own?)
Anyway,
Here is a man who has really tried to wake the people to the realisation that they can do better, and deserve better, to aspire to have decent health care for all, roads, education and all that befits a prosperous and working society, yet it seems to have fallen on deaf ears.
It appears that those who are doing better, don't care, and those who are not... don't care either, or have simply given up hope.
Truth is, you can't make a person want better for themselves Sowore.
Whist his efforts have made an impact, I feel for him and his family, who just want him home now.
If you can buy 'loyalty' however temporary, for as little as 5000 Naira , which is about £10, what on earth is going on.
It's a shame, but as the saying goes.. empty barrels make the most noise.
Time for Nigerians to perhaps be a little less 'loud', and a lot more real.
Whist many of us tuned in to yesterdays events, it will be hard for anyone to argue they were anything but lawless, unkind and inhumane.
As the powers that be ( and currently no-one really seems to know for sure who they be) continue to 'make an example of him, what is happening to Sowore, may deter other 'activists' from fighting for, or even aspiring to, the change that both he, and they all desperately seek.
If that's the case, the score is currently even...
DSS 1 Sowore 1
Deep down I suspect the common man and woman are afraid
as not only are they fit (DSS) - they also carry guns
Sowore and co - are very brave individuals.
There are those who don't trust him, for sure, however, those who do not, may not even trust their own wives - so we really can be none the wiser - chasing down that rabbit hole
May he stay safe x
**
Firstly, I must say.. Nigeria is a beautiful country...
But unfortunately, it seems at times, that the only thing spoiling Nigeria.. is Nigerians.
After the continued detention (against court orders), the DSS finally released activist and journalist Omoyele Sowore on Thursday...
(Sowore centre of pic)
...only to re-arrest him the very next day, whilst attending court
A room full of lawyers, and the presiding judge apparently had to run from the court for safety, amidst the oddest, disturbing, and most embarrassing scenes imaginable.
This is how it went down
(credit to Oak TV)
Regardless of whether or not this re-arrest has the backing of the government - the government may find themselves in a very precarious position, either way.
I can only shake my head in dismay at the developments - but support, concern, admiration and respect for Sowere continues to grow internationally.
on a superficial inappropriate yet related note -
how fit are the DSS guys??..
Heh heh...No.... not even my humour can negate the fact that what happened yesterday was a massive error of judgement.
Protestors and counter protestors had gathered outside the court in the morning.
Who were the counter protestors?
No idea, as it's reported that they were regular folk, paid to hold placards in support of the DSS.
One placard stated 'Sowore must pay for his sins!" .. Oh how I wish someone had interviewed the man so we can all know what Sowore's sins could possibly be... (and dare I ask...what of your own?)
Anyway,
Here is a man who has really tried to wake the people to the realisation that they can do better, and deserve better, to aspire to have decent health care for all, roads, education and all that befits a prosperous and working society, yet it seems to have fallen on deaf ears.
It appears that those who are doing better, don't care, and those who are not... don't care either, or have simply given up hope.
Truth is, you can't make a person want better for themselves Sowore.
Whist his efforts have made an impact, I feel for him and his family, who just want him home now.
If you can buy 'loyalty' however temporary, for as little as 5000 Naira , which is about £10, what on earth is going on.
It's a shame, but as the saying goes.. empty barrels make the most noise.
Time for Nigerians to perhaps be a little less 'loud', and a lot more real.
Whist many of us tuned in to yesterdays events, it will be hard for anyone to argue they were anything but lawless, unkind and inhumane.
As the powers that be ( and currently no-one really seems to know for sure who they be) continue to 'make an example of him, what is happening to Sowore, may deter other 'activists' from fighting for, or even aspiring to, the change that both he, and they all desperately seek.
If that's the case, the score is currently even...
DSS 1 Sowore 1
Deep down I suspect the common man and woman are afraid
as not only are they fit (DSS) - they also carry guns
Sowore and co - are very brave individuals.
There are those who don't trust him, for sure, however, those who do not, may not even trust their own wives - so we really can be none the wiser - chasing down that rabbit hole
May he stay safe x
**
Sunday, 1 December 2019
Weekend WOW Factor: and just like that ... Dino lost
The lyrical jousting between them is just too funny..
Spicy...
Spicy...
Saturday, 30 November 2019
Adeola Fayehun - Interview with Natasha Akpoti:
My favourite girls - with beauty and brains
Strangely, she trips up on the Sowore issue
Not sure why she joined APC initially - or even SDP , but no-one is perfect:)
I like her passion.
Strangely, she trips up on the Sowore issue
Not sure why she joined APC initially - or even SDP , but no-one is perfect:)
I like her passion.
Thursday, 28 November 2019
Wednesday, 27 November 2019
Sunday, 24 November 2019
A few Pics
Rainy day at Lake Kivu
For anyone who loves potatoes as I do.. a sea of potatoes is a lovely sight.. :)
Enjoying my outfits :)
For anyone who loves potatoes as I do.. a sea of potatoes is a lovely sight.. :)
Enjoying my outfits :)
Weekend WOW Factor: KGM - Kogi State Shenanigans and UK Elections
My trip to the Kigali Genocide Museum/Memorial is something I'll never forget. I had an amazing guide talk me through each stage from beginning to end, and mid way the reality struck, and I really felt emotional. Learning as I did, of the task ahead to heal the pain, and unite the people , to the point that Rwanda has become the shining light of Africa, was a lesson in what can be achieved when people truly work together, and have a leader with a vision.
The people are very special.
It's a reminder of the saying, BE the change you wish to see.
The rain never falls on one mans house, and the sun, shines for all.
**
Meanwhile.. in Nigeria, the Kogi State Elections was pretty dire
Listen to how my fav girl was treated....
Don't fret beautiful Natasha, keep doing your best
Question tho... what kind of man pushes a female governorship candidate to the floor.....?
( any woman for that matter..)
So, they re-elected a man who doesn't pay salaries?...
We have elections coming up next month.. I simply can't imagine violence , or ballot box snatching.
Sunday, 10 November 2019
Weekend WOW Factor : 100 Days - Omoyele Sowore
Omoyele Sowore, founder of Sahara Reporters, 2019 Presidential Candidate, Anti Corruption Journalist, Social and Community Activist, and all round decent guy, has been in detention now, for 100 days.
Despite meeting all of his bail conditions, he has yet to be released.
Sowore has reported to have gone on hunger strike.
Sowore was detained after calling for a nation wide protest, and calling that protest, revolution now.
Sowore - with his impressive oratory skills, campaigning abilities, and honest desire to see a better Nigeria in areas such as education, health care, minimum wage.
Sowore, who being US based, really doesn't have to care - but cares nonetheless.
He has his core supporters, who are doing the best they can.
Other 'supporters' emerged once he trended across all media, and gained an impressive legal team.
The past 100 days since his detention have been very revealing.
But our thoughts go out to him and his family
It's our hope he will be released any day now
Micro Story -AUNTY STELLA’S AN OUTCAST
Aunty Stella smokes and drinks.
She parties every weekend, squeezing her ample bottom into tight ‘western’ clothing. My mother says she’s bringing shame on the family, and was always the black sheep, staying out late, dropping out of school, and getting pregnant early.
Aunty Stella says she was never the black sheep until they had decided that was her fate. Once decided, there was little she could do right, but plenty she could do wrong. 'So', she told me with a shrug, she decided to 'specialise in the plenty'.
Aunty Stella was married to a Jamaican man, who everyone thought looked much like an Igbo man, until he opened his mouth and removed all doubt.
His heavy Jamaican accent made it difficult to understand him, and he seemed to frown at everything. He blamed Nigerians for ‘selling his people into slavery’ and anytime the family got together it ended with a huge argument, within shouting about the Igbo landing, and calling Aunty stella’s family and friends a ‘set of bumboclart sellouts!’
I was never sure what it meant , but I knew from the scuffles that ensued, and the tone of his delivery, that he had insulted pretty much everyone.
Still, funnily enough, secretly, the family seemed to like him. They preferred him to Aunty Stella’s first husband, an ‘Oyinbo’ man who everyone hoped would bring fame, glory and favour to the family, but whose connections stretched little further than the local bar and a few plumbers in Croydon. Aunty Stella divorced him when she grew tired of his cheating, and was swept off her feet at a friends birthday party by the Jamaican.
Aunty Stella never hid the fact that she was Nigerian, but she had a tendency to critique rather than praise.
At my younger aunties wedding she refused to were a Gele, even though she knew that all the women in the family would be wearing yellow Gele’s. Instead, aunty Stella wore a yellow wig, with huge gold earrings.
Her husband called her his dancehall queen and looked at her proudly, but family members simply looked at her with fear and outrage.
From the outside Aunty Stella seemed to live up to all that she was accused of, but I knew it was an act.
I felt I knew my Aunty, more than anyone, as I had often sat at the edge of her bed and watched and listen to her as she prepared for a night out.
I watched and listened to her when she attempted to cook Caribbean meals, with Youtube as her guide.
I listened and watched when she wrapped herself in her duvet on her ‘sad days’ when all she wanted was hot chocolate and doughnuts. Then I watched her the following week as her sadness subsided, and she would pinch at the sides of her waist, and curse the very same chocolate and doughnuts she had sworn the week before had brought her joy.
Aunty Stella’s only crime was that she did not conform to her culture. Her refusal to ‘do as she’s told’ left her weak and vulnerable, so whereas other members of the family received the support of the family, Aunty Stella did not.
I wish I had the courage to be like Aunty Stella, but the reality is, I simply can’t imagine not having the support of my family.
I can't imagine them not arranging my engagement, my marriage, giving their blessing.
Aunty Stella was a warning to the female members of the family who wished to go against the culture.
In fact, she was often used as a threat to instil discipline. ‘You want to grow up like Stella? Married to a Jamaican and living as an outcast?’
The girl children would cry out.... ‘nooooooo’ and run away crying.
One day, I know things will change
After all, as her husband liked to say, if he ever saw his wife looking downcast ‘ No worry ‘bout dam, the stone that the builder refuse, will be the head corner stone…. Bob Marley say dat
Yeah man.. tell dem again Bob’.
Friday, 1 November 2019
Saturday, 26 October 2019
Monday, 21 October 2019
Short Story : Todun
I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I’ve been doing this every day for the past week, ever since Remi advised me to do so, and as I did, to repeat the words, ‘you are beautiful, you are strong, you are loving, and you are loved’.
I've known Remi ever since I was six years old.
We played together in my family home in Stamford Hill. Anytime her parents argued, her mother would bring her over to stay, and to play, until calm had returned between her and her husband.
They were an unusual family.
Her parents were both from Ogun state in Nigeria, yet had moved to the UK after her father decided he could no longer see a future in his homeland. Remi ’s mother was excited at the thought of having new life in the UK, until she realised that he would continue to travel back and forth, marry an additional wife, and have children back in the place he had said held no future.
It was that situation which caused most of the arguments in their family home. That, and money.
Remi’s mother would argue that all the money he earned was being sent back to Nigeria, so much so that she was often left with nothing to feed herself and children. He blamed her for their situation, saying that he wanted no other children but Remi, but she insisted on having more, a son, whose appitite for food far surpassed his own.
He told her that he returned back to Nigeria for peace and quiet, yet often complained of the noise, the hustle, the dust, and the lack of light. He complained that she had gained weight, that when they first met, she was slim, fine looking, but had let herself go. He told her he could no longer bear to make love to her, that her body turned him off, and that he couldn’t trust her not to get pregnant again, and hated condoms.
So her mother, anytime they argued, left Remi and her brother, with us at my family home, and went to stay with her boyfriend, something Remi's father knew nothing about.
Remi and I played often, yet every so often whenever we heard raised voices, or her mother sob, we would prise the door ajar, to enable us to hear what was being said.
The was how we learned of the state of their marriage.
Remi blamed herself.
`i learnt about the birds and the bees through Remi. It was the day of my 12th birthday that Remi asked me who I hoped I would marry.. I told her what my mother had told me, that god would find me a husband and send him to me when the time is right, and if that was taking too long, my father knew a man back in Lagos who had two sons, and either one would be a good match for me.
She asked me if I was ready to do the thing wives did for their husbands. I told her I as learning to cook pounded yam and egusi and that my mother had showed me how to wash clothes by hand , so that if the washing machine ever broke down ,there would be no argument in the home.
‘Not just that‘ Remi remarked. ‘What about the bed stuff’
In my naivety, I told her that if we only had one room, we could take turns sleeping in the bed with the other on the coach.
She laughed
‘Dummy!’ She said
‘You think a man want a wife and no sex?
I was confused. I asked her what that was,
Remi was happy to educate me. She pushed the door of my bedroom shut, pushed my toys off the bed, and sat next to me.
She pointed to my private area. She said, when man thing gets hard he will push it in there. He will probably want to rub on your breast too, and use his finger to finger you so you get wet.
‘Oh’. I said.
Dont worry she said, ‘you will like it. It might hurt at first but you will get used to it, and then you will like it’
‘How do you know? I asked her, fascinated by her knowledge of the subject
‘I just know’ she said
‘Who told you this’, I pushed her further. I couldn’t believe that Remi knew so much and my own mother had not told me of this.
‘Did your mother tell you all this ?’ I asked
‘Not my mother’ she said
She put her finger up against her lips. Looked around my tiny room and whispered in my ear
‘My dad’
‘Your dad told you?’
‘Shhh!’, She said, ‘keep your voice down it's a secret’
‘He didn’t tell me, he showed me!’
‘How can your father show you?’. I was confused
She looked at me , with pityful eyes. ‘He did it with me’
I sat silent.
She continued.
‘He showed me long time ago, one night he just came to my room and put his finger against my lips, saying my mum was tired so not to wake her. Then he did it…
After that… he did it all the time’.
I didn’t know what to say, I was confused, I was inquisitive but something inside me knew what she was saying, couldn’t be right.
‘Does your mum know?’ I asked
‘How could she know now? Anyway he said we have to stop soon because if I get my period it could cause problems’
‘Period?’ I asked
Remi signed.
Then she explained all about a woman menstrual circle.
**
My mother didn’t understand the change in my attitude.
She couldn’t understand why I was no longer interested in her place of birth, or my father. My unwillingness to learn how to cook, or watch her as she sewed clothes. Nothing that previously interested me, interested me.
My father put it down to me being a stroppy teenager, my mother blamed my hormones. I was 18, and my father was keen for me to visit Nigeria with him, and meet my prospective husband.
I told him no.
He was angry and blamed my mother for naming me Moruntodun, even though he liked the idea at the time.
He said I was growing stubborn, and stubborn women make men miserable. It was the fist time I had ever heard them argue.
I didn’t want them to blame themselves, and that is when I finally blurted out, that which I had held a secret for so long.
I told them all about Remi, and her father.
Silence enjulfed the room. My father walked out.
My mother burst into tears. I didn’t realise that when my father left the room he had gone to make a call. Within minutes Remi and her parents were at the door.
‘She’s lying’ , Remi screamed. Her father beat her, her mother beat her. Until she finally sobbed, ‘I’m not lying, and I don’t want to live with you anymore’.
Her mother was angry, and told Remi she knew she was a little whore when she got pregnant and brought shame to the family.
Silence hit the room again. No-one had heard about the pregnancy before.
‘How do you think I could get pregnant with no boyfriend ma?’
That was it.
My father took a stick he kept n the corner for potential intruders and lashed out at Remi’s father. my Yoruba was weak, but what he said was splattered with English, and I was clear about the words vile, and animal.
Remi’s brother cowered in his seat. He was away at boarding school most of the time, so the entire scene was a great shock to him.
Remi ran out.
Her mother hysterically hit her husband, until he was also able to get away.
I left the room and went to sit alone my bedroom. I could hear raised voiced until the early hours of the morning.
I remember thinking that the family was torn apart, and that things would never be the same again.
But months later. Remi ’s mother and her husband were still together.
They had decided to hide their shame, and would continue to appear publicly as man and wife. They begged my father not to share the news in Nigeria.
Remi’s father offered my father £20,000 to stay silent. My father told him he didn’t want his money, and that god will serve him his karma in time.
Remi , now living with an aunt , spoke to me about everything other than that night.
Only my mother spoke to me about it. But only once.
She said
‘Understand baby that these things happen, you hear about them happening to other families, and pray that god will protect your own.
I knew a young girl in Nigeria who suffered the same fate’.
She told me that families rarely spoke of it, and that many times the wives or grandparents knew, but they were afraid to speak up. m`y mother blamed poverty.
‘But he’s not poor’ I exclaimed
My mother told me he may not be poor now, but he was raised in poverty, and had a poverty mindset that only god could erase.
She told me that I was fortunate, and I should remember that in our culture, women are not given the same rights as men.
They are seen as second class even if they are educated, or hail from a wealthy background. She told me I should never allow someone else’s experience to colour my own, but to learn from them, see things ,hear things, and say nothing, unless I could change things for the better.
She told me , there as a reason she named me Moruntodun.
‘I have found a beautiful thing’.
‘Todun’ she said.
You were born for a purpose, and I am sure, you will find it.
Sunday, 20 October 2019
Weekend WOW Factor: Ambazonia vs Cameroon
The name Ambazonia comes from the Ambas Bay. The bay which is located in southwestern Cameroon is considered as the boundary between Southern Cameroon and the Republic of Cameroon.
In 1919 after the 1st world war, Cameroon was a country divided by the French and the British.
The territory was divided into two, Northern Cameroon , and Southern Cameroon.
In 1954 British Southern Cameroon wanted to have their own nation, and developed their own state governance and institutions.
1959 election took place in the region, and a new prime minister elected.
On the 1st January 1960 the republic of Cameroon became independent from France.
1st October 1960 Nigeria ( and part of Cameroon) gained their independence from Britain
Both British North and Southern Cameroon remained a trust territory of the UN
In 1961 there region ( the 'in betweenness') was given the choice to become either become independent by joining either the French Republic of Cameroon or the British republic of Nigeria
They were not given the choice to become independent in their own right and considered too small a landmass.
The British southern Cameroon voted to join the French speaking republic of Cameroon
The British northern Cameroon voted to join Nigeria.
Are you still with me?
At a conference on the 30th September 1962, designed to bring the 2 nations together, a pre prepared constitution was drawn up and ratified. The people were ill prepared.
the conference was designed to bring the two nations together.
On the 1st October French speaking Cameroon forces entered the region and took over.
The British flag was lowered, as was the French
The federal republic of Cameroon was born.
In 1972, this was abandoned in favour of a 'United republic of Cameroon'. no federation.
The people ( Ambazonians) stuck 'between borders' feel they have been disregarded, and with oil available in their region, an oil refinery was built, but channeled to the French speaking north.
So , the people, the 'in-betweeners' the Ambazonians, are fighting for their independence.
A people who previously practiced British common law 'innocent until proven guilty'. are now forced to practice French civil law, 'guilty until proven innocent.
Perhaps they would have been better off joining Nigeria.
Or maybe not.
It's a difficult one. as if you decided to enter a man's house, you should expect to live by the rules of the homeowner.
20% of English speaking Cameroon are really stuck between a rock and a hard place. They want independence. Ironically, `The right to practice the ways of their former British 'colonizers'
Perhaps they will get it, perhaps not, but ultimately, war is not the answer.
The brutal treatment the southern English speaking Cameronians have received, cannot be condoned
On and on it goes, and innocent people are getting hurt, on both sides.
They must talk.
Britain and France, (the colonisers) have left you to it.
What are you really fighting for?
and ....are you not fighting your 'brothers'
This is for those of you ( like myself) who ever wondered what the Cameroon struggle was about.
My question is, who were you before the colonisers came?
Surely Love is the answer, and the only way forward.
In 1919 after the 1st world war, Cameroon was a country divided by the French and the British.
The territory was divided into two, Northern Cameroon , and Southern Cameroon.
In 1954 British Southern Cameroon wanted to have their own nation, and developed their own state governance and institutions.
1959 election took place in the region, and a new prime minister elected.
On the 1st January 1960 the republic of Cameroon became independent from France.
1st October 1960 Nigeria ( and part of Cameroon) gained their independence from Britain
Both British North and Southern Cameroon remained a trust territory of the UN
In 1961 there region ( the 'in betweenness') was given the choice to become either become independent by joining either the French Republic of Cameroon or the British republic of Nigeria
They were not given the choice to become independent in their own right and considered too small a landmass.
The British southern Cameroon voted to join the French speaking republic of Cameroon
The British northern Cameroon voted to join Nigeria.
Are you still with me?
At a conference on the 30th September 1962, designed to bring the 2 nations together, a pre prepared constitution was drawn up and ratified. The people were ill prepared.
the conference was designed to bring the two nations together.
On the 1st October French speaking Cameroon forces entered the region and took over.
The British flag was lowered, as was the French
The federal republic of Cameroon was born.
In 1972, this was abandoned in favour of a 'United republic of Cameroon'. no federation.
The people ( Ambazonians) stuck 'between borders' feel they have been disregarded, and with oil available in their region, an oil refinery was built, but channeled to the French speaking north.
So , the people, the 'in-betweeners' the Ambazonians, are fighting for their independence.
A people who previously practiced British common law 'innocent until proven guilty'. are now forced to practice French civil law, 'guilty until proven innocent.
Perhaps they would have been better off joining Nigeria.
Or maybe not.
It's a difficult one. as if you decided to enter a man's house, you should expect to live by the rules of the homeowner.
20% of English speaking Cameroon are really stuck between a rock and a hard place. They want independence. Ironically, `The right to practice the ways of their former British 'colonizers'
Perhaps they will get it, perhaps not, but ultimately, war is not the answer.
The brutal treatment the southern English speaking Cameronians have received, cannot be condoned
On and on it goes, and innocent people are getting hurt, on both sides.
They must talk.
Britain and France, (the colonisers) have left you to it.
What are you really fighting for?
and ....are you not fighting your 'brothers'
This is for those of you ( like myself) who ever wondered what the Cameroon struggle was about.
My question is, who were you before the colonisers came?
Surely Love is the answer, and the only way forward.
Tuesday, 15 October 2019
Monday, 14 October 2019
Sunday, 13 October 2019
Short Story : Bottom Power.
BOTTOM POWER
My boss is running late.
He called me on my mobile early this morning to say he’d been held up,. I didn’t ask him why, I never questioned him, I just said ‘yes sah’, and, 'no problem sah’
.
My boss had a meeting scheduled for 8.30am , so I prepared what I would say to his guests when they arrived.
I managed his diary and knew the two men he was to meet with, very well.
One was a senior government minister, and the other, a senior executive in banking. The senior minister always enjoyed my presence and encouraged me to hang around and gist, not just, ‘drop beer and go’.
He asked me often if I was dating, and ‘when was I getting married?’ . He told me not to fall for ‘those young boys’, but to ‘find a good stable man of means’.
The banker was less friendly, his attitude towards me hostile at best. Whenever I walked into the room, if he was talking, he would stop, and wait for me to leave before resuming. On one occasion I overheard him say as I closed the door behind me, ‘that girl, na be problem o’.
It amused me a little that his professional demeanor always slipped so easily after just one beer.
Still, I was somewhat offended to be labelled ‘a problem’
I waited at my desk for the arrival of my bosses guests. I prepared a fresh jug of water, checked there were beers in the fridge, and swept the front office. I wiped the desk and I put away any papers that my boss had left out from the evening before, erasing any trace of the desk activities that had taken place to cause such disarray.
If his desk could talk.
Mr Ogungun and Oluwale arrived loudly. Their voices bold and arrogant as they burst into the office. I greeted them but my words were lost amidst the strong booming voice of Oluwale. ‘My sexy friend, go grab a beer and come sit with me’. I giggled shyly a little as he slapped my buttocks. I moved slowly to the kitchen. I knew how to move slowly as I knew they would be watching. I had learnt that a woman’s charm was in her ability to move slowly.
My mother always told me that.
She said it would make even a small ‘gnash’ look more ample, and that I must learn to walk with my thighs and not my ankles. At the time I had no idea what she was talking about, until I watched older women demonstrate, and observed for myself at parties and gatherings, even at church, the power it had, over even the most soba of men.
So, I moved slowly. By the time I arrived back in the front office, my boss was walking through the door. I hadn’t expected him to arrive so soon, and felt a pang of disappointment.
My boss used to be a fair man. he knew that in order to get what he wanted, he had to give me what I wanted. Well, he was fair until a new Corper arrived. Then he he started to complain about my work. I could barely believe it when one day when he called me into his office to complain about the grammar in an email I had written, he complained about the lunches I brought him, despite me getting him what he asked for, and he complained he was now paying me too much. All of this complaining done in sight of the Corper, much to her joy.
I knew I needed a plan B. The Corper’s breasts were more ample than my own, and appeared to have her t-shirt bursting at the seams each time I saw her. It was obvious to me that my Oga was becoming distracted by her charms, so one lunchtime, as he sat at his desk about to eat the fish and bread I had bought for hm, I locked his office door, climbed under the desk and unzipped his pants. I stroked at his manhood until it became firm enough for me to take into my mouth. I knew from his groans that I had hit the right spot. I had given attention to the two things he loved most in the world. His belly and his penis. He couldn’t contain himself for long and I brought him to climax. To my surprise, the greedy man just panted, patted me once on my head and carried on eating!.
That was when I knew I had to get the hell out of there, fast. Hence my flirtation with Oluwale.
Now I knew, that Oluwale could seriously change my fortunes. This was a ‘big man’, with a wife, that was well known to travel to London and the US regularly to shop. His children studied abroad, and his family home was reported to be a 10 bedroomed mansion.
My boss was a small man compared to Oluawale. Men tended to notice when a woman’s eyes begin to look elsewhere, and my boss had noticed that I was becoming increasingly playful with his comrade.
Not even the heavy breasts of the Corper could stop him from blurting out a crude ‘ You’re wasting you’re time if you think he wants you, he likes them much younger than you’
Yet his arrival at the office within minutes of his guests told me he was not happy about the prospect of me being alone for too long with Oluwale.
I smiled at him anyway, opened the Beer’s and handed them out. Oluwale grinned as usual, telling my boss how lucky he was. He told my boss he needed a new secretary as the last one overstepped her position
To my surprise he went on to openly state that his secretary had the nerve to argue with his wife, and on receipt of a slap, had the audacity to slap her back. My boss frowned at first then on further sips of his beer simply said ‘ it’s your own fault, you have to manage you business correctly.’
My boss waved me away to denote they had serious business to discuss .
An hour later he called for the Corper, and asked her to bring more Beer. She smirked as she walked past me to get to the fridge. I wanted to trip her, watch her fall, but she had found a way to walk even slower than I ever did!, so no amount of tripping would have had any impact.
By the time she emerged from the office I knew my position had been deleted.
As the men walked loudly to the door, my boss whispered in my ear.
'Ok, you got what you wanted...
Be at Oluwales office 1st thing Monday morning..
He’s your new boss'.
My boss is running late.
He called me on my mobile early this morning to say he’d been held up,. I didn’t ask him why, I never questioned him, I just said ‘yes sah’, and, 'no problem sah’
.
My boss had a meeting scheduled for 8.30am , so I prepared what I would say to his guests when they arrived.
I managed his diary and knew the two men he was to meet with, very well.
One was a senior government minister, and the other, a senior executive in banking. The senior minister always enjoyed my presence and encouraged me to hang around and gist, not just, ‘drop beer and go’.
He asked me often if I was dating, and ‘when was I getting married?’ . He told me not to fall for ‘those young boys’, but to ‘find a good stable man of means’.
The banker was less friendly, his attitude towards me hostile at best. Whenever I walked into the room, if he was talking, he would stop, and wait for me to leave before resuming. On one occasion I overheard him say as I closed the door behind me, ‘that girl, na be problem o’.
It amused me a little that his professional demeanor always slipped so easily after just one beer.
Still, I was somewhat offended to be labelled ‘a problem’
I waited at my desk for the arrival of my bosses guests. I prepared a fresh jug of water, checked there were beers in the fridge, and swept the front office. I wiped the desk and I put away any papers that my boss had left out from the evening before, erasing any trace of the desk activities that had taken place to cause such disarray.
If his desk could talk.
Mr Ogungun and Oluwale arrived loudly. Their voices bold and arrogant as they burst into the office. I greeted them but my words were lost amidst the strong booming voice of Oluwale. ‘My sexy friend, go grab a beer and come sit with me’. I giggled shyly a little as he slapped my buttocks. I moved slowly to the kitchen. I knew how to move slowly as I knew they would be watching. I had learnt that a woman’s charm was in her ability to move slowly.
My mother always told me that.
She said it would make even a small ‘gnash’ look more ample, and that I must learn to walk with my thighs and not my ankles. At the time I had no idea what she was talking about, until I watched older women demonstrate, and observed for myself at parties and gatherings, even at church, the power it had, over even the most soba of men.
So, I moved slowly. By the time I arrived back in the front office, my boss was walking through the door. I hadn’t expected him to arrive so soon, and felt a pang of disappointment.
My boss used to be a fair man. he knew that in order to get what he wanted, he had to give me what I wanted. Well, he was fair until a new Corper arrived. Then he he started to complain about my work. I could barely believe it when one day when he called me into his office to complain about the grammar in an email I had written, he complained about the lunches I brought him, despite me getting him what he asked for, and he complained he was now paying me too much. All of this complaining done in sight of the Corper, much to her joy.
I knew I needed a plan B. The Corper’s breasts were more ample than my own, and appeared to have her t-shirt bursting at the seams each time I saw her. It was obvious to me that my Oga was becoming distracted by her charms, so one lunchtime, as he sat at his desk about to eat the fish and bread I had bought for hm, I locked his office door, climbed under the desk and unzipped his pants. I stroked at his manhood until it became firm enough for me to take into my mouth. I knew from his groans that I had hit the right spot. I had given attention to the two things he loved most in the world. His belly and his penis. He couldn’t contain himself for long and I brought him to climax. To my surprise, the greedy man just panted, patted me once on my head and carried on eating!.
That was when I knew I had to get the hell out of there, fast. Hence my flirtation with Oluwale.
Now I knew, that Oluwale could seriously change my fortunes. This was a ‘big man’, with a wife, that was well known to travel to London and the US regularly to shop. His children studied abroad, and his family home was reported to be a 10 bedroomed mansion.
My boss was a small man compared to Oluawale. Men tended to notice when a woman’s eyes begin to look elsewhere, and my boss had noticed that I was becoming increasingly playful with his comrade.
Not even the heavy breasts of the Corper could stop him from blurting out a crude ‘ You’re wasting you’re time if you think he wants you, he likes them much younger than you’
Yet his arrival at the office within minutes of his guests told me he was not happy about the prospect of me being alone for too long with Oluwale.
I smiled at him anyway, opened the Beer’s and handed them out. Oluwale grinned as usual, telling my boss how lucky he was. He told my boss he needed a new secretary as the last one overstepped her position
To my surprise he went on to openly state that his secretary had the nerve to argue with his wife, and on receipt of a slap, had the audacity to slap her back. My boss frowned at first then on further sips of his beer simply said ‘ it’s your own fault, you have to manage you business correctly.’
My boss waved me away to denote they had serious business to discuss .
An hour later he called for the Corper, and asked her to bring more Beer. She smirked as she walked past me to get to the fridge. I wanted to trip her, watch her fall, but she had found a way to walk even slower than I ever did!, so no amount of tripping would have had any impact.
By the time she emerged from the office I knew my position had been deleted.
As the men walked loudly to the door, my boss whispered in my ear.
'Ok, you got what you wanted...
Be at Oluwales office 1st thing Monday morning..
He’s your new boss'.
Weekend WOW Factor : Nigeria's Moral Decline
As the BBC investigation into sex for grades does the rounds, and a week where lecturer B was seen on camera jiggling his 'crutch' ( and belly) after every prayer point, and asking a student to turn off the light if she wants him to kiss her, it felt like as good a time as any to speak of Nigeria's moral decline.
Now, despite the comical behaviour of this 'man' , many women who have been through the university system in Nigeria (and some other African countries) can attest that this has been going on for as long as they can remember, and as a result the investigation didn't show anything that wasn't already common knowledge to most people. That being said, it is arguable that this is what happens when a society is built on the premise that men can do whatever they like with regards to women with impunity, or when poor behaviour is referred to as 'culture', and as a result, to be turned a blind eye to...aka...accepted.
One example is, if a married women continues to turn a blind eye to her husband cheating as long as he brings in money, she may not realise it, but she too is an enabler, and creator of men such as 'lecturer B', who despite allegedly being suspended from The University Of Lagos, will more then likely be reinstated once the dust has settled.
Cold room? or cold day in hell?, regardless, there were quite a few women dancing in a weird circle amidst an array of overweight pot bellied men who really should know better but clearly, do not. It may be time for women to stop the 'baby talk' with these grown men... it's creepy.
2. Whilst Omoyele Sowore languishes in a Nigerian prison, President Buhari ( in his ripe age) allegedly decided to marry a second wife this weekend. At a time when the country really needs leadership, it would be fair to say that perhaps this was not the best time for such a display of disregard to Mrs Buhari, but as one commentator stated, his religion allows him 4 wives. That being said I believed that a second wife would be permissible only with the consent of his 1st wife, which he doesn't seem to have obtained. With Aisha Buhari having spent significant time in the UK recently, it would appear there is much truth to the allegations.
( heehee my 'boss' is smiling)
Many believed that Nigeria's main problem was corruption, but as social media has enabled more people to showcase life as it is, the evidence is that corruption is just a symptom of a wider lack of moral imperative, of moral compass, which every functioning society needs.
Nigeria's leaders are made in Nigeria.
They are simply a reflection of the vast majority of the citizens who dwell in what was once known as the giant of Africa.
Nigeria is Africa's' most populous county, which simply means more opportunities for things to go vastly wrong.
3.Tribalism
Football and music aside, Nigeria is one of Africa's most tribally divided countries. There is little uniting the people, and little desire to look beyond ethnicity towards a greater good. This tunnel vision will continue to blight the development of the country as each tribal group seeks dominance over the other.
4. The growing trend of pontificating and analysing of the middle classes serves little or no purpose without real demonstrable action. Truth is, if large swathes of the populous took to the streets tomorrow, many of those commentators and defecto leaders would be 'hiding under their beds' to quote Omoyele Sowore.
5. The growth and decline of the church in equal measure, and the ease in which some become 'pastors'
Need I say more on that? I don't think so.
6. Nigeria is becoming known as the land of lawyers, with very little law.
If Naija doesn't get its act together, it will sadly continue to be left behind
We will see how things go
Now, despite the comical behaviour of this 'man' , many women who have been through the university system in Nigeria (and some other African countries) can attest that this has been going on for as long as they can remember, and as a result the investigation didn't show anything that wasn't already common knowledge to most people. That being said, it is arguable that this is what happens when a society is built on the premise that men can do whatever they like with regards to women with impunity, or when poor behaviour is referred to as 'culture', and as a result, to be turned a blind eye to...aka...accepted.
One example is, if a married women continues to turn a blind eye to her husband cheating as long as he brings in money, she may not realise it, but she too is an enabler, and creator of men such as 'lecturer B', who despite allegedly being suspended from The University Of Lagos, will more then likely be reinstated once the dust has settled.
Cold room? or cold day in hell?, regardless, there were quite a few women dancing in a weird circle amidst an array of overweight pot bellied men who really should know better but clearly, do not. It may be time for women to stop the 'baby talk' with these grown men... it's creepy.
2. Whilst Omoyele Sowore languishes in a Nigerian prison, President Buhari ( in his ripe age) allegedly decided to marry a second wife this weekend. At a time when the country really needs leadership, it would be fair to say that perhaps this was not the best time for such a display of disregard to Mrs Buhari, but as one commentator stated, his religion allows him 4 wives. That being said I believed that a second wife would be permissible only with the consent of his 1st wife, which he doesn't seem to have obtained. With Aisha Buhari having spent significant time in the UK recently, it would appear there is much truth to the allegations.
( heehee my 'boss' is smiling)
Many believed that Nigeria's main problem was corruption, but as social media has enabled more people to showcase life as it is, the evidence is that corruption is just a symptom of a wider lack of moral imperative, of moral compass, which every functioning society needs.
Nigeria's leaders are made in Nigeria.
They are simply a reflection of the vast majority of the citizens who dwell in what was once known as the giant of Africa.
Nigeria is Africa's' most populous county, which simply means more opportunities for things to go vastly wrong.
3.Tribalism
Football and music aside, Nigeria is one of Africa's most tribally divided countries. There is little uniting the people, and little desire to look beyond ethnicity towards a greater good. This tunnel vision will continue to blight the development of the country as each tribal group seeks dominance over the other.
4. The growing trend of pontificating and analysing of the middle classes serves little or no purpose without real demonstrable action. Truth is, if large swathes of the populous took to the streets tomorrow, many of those commentators and defecto leaders would be 'hiding under their beds' to quote Omoyele Sowore.
5. The growth and decline of the church in equal measure, and the ease in which some become 'pastors'
Need I say more on that? I don't think so.
6. Nigeria is becoming known as the land of lawyers, with very little law.
If Naija doesn't get its act together, it will sadly continue to be left behind
We will see how things go
Sunday, 6 October 2019
Saturday, 5 October 2019
Just beautiful
Eucalyptus trees have become my fav, and are everywhere here
Rwanda can easily re-name itself the 'Land of a thousand hills ...with the scent of Eucalyptus'
Rwanda can easily re-name itself the 'Land of a thousand hills ...with the scent of Eucalyptus'
Thursday, 3 October 2019
5 things I love about Rwanda
Five reasons why I simply adore Rwanda
..and not just that Chris Brown's songs sounds better in Africa ( they do for some reason)
disclaimer - there are more reasons than 5!
1. It's Tidy!!
Whilst the bulk of my stay has been in Kigali, Ive spend some time travelling around , visiting more remote areas - and the truth is. It's pretty darn clean.
Clearly the people here care about their surroundings and are willing to do their bit to maintain it. Ubuntu people - Ubuntu
...and on a side note.. they are hands down the most stylish!
Lord have mercy, men in uniform here are in a class of their own. It's not professional, but I can't stop ( discreetly) staring at these handsome fit tall soldiers lol!!... hey forgive me.. while I crush abit :)
I think the mark of a great leader can be found in his or her citizens ( aka, the people they lead). I'm so impressed with President Kagame, and that's all I'll say about that for now. ( If the continent had 1 President, Pan African style.... he'd get my vote)
There a calmness that exists, none of that rambunctiousness many subscribe to certain African countries, no - the people here ( so far) communicate well, and are seemingly able to keep their volume at a respectable level lol.
The music is phenomenal I'm totally hooked. Ok - I'll alway love my Naija artists,( Wizkid don't worry) but Rwandan music is biting at the heels. These guys have beautiful voices. and ok, the world knows the Congolese to be arguably the best and most sexiest dancers, but don't play - Rwandan people are not far behind.
You can find your club bangers, or your easy going love songs.. it's all available here
..and not just that Chris Brown's songs sounds better in Africa ( they do for some reason)
disclaimer - there are more reasons than 5!
1. It's Tidy!!
Whilst the bulk of my stay has been in Kigali, Ive spend some time travelling around , visiting more remote areas - and the truth is. It's pretty darn clean.
Clearly the people here care about their surroundings and are willing to do their bit to maintain it. Ubuntu people - Ubuntu
2. Security
There is security at every turn ( more or less)There are clearly identifiable security personnel, police or army in sight , every day, all day. They carry out checks, they are polite, orderly, and I've not seen any ounce of poor behaviour of 'hustling' like ahem....others countries, which shall remain nameless.. Male and female alike, I really love these guys....and on a side note.. they are hands down the most stylish!
Lord have mercy, men in uniform here are in a class of their own. It's not professional, but I can't stop ( discreetly) staring at these handsome fit tall soldiers lol!!... hey forgive me.. while I crush abit :)
3. Great leadership.
I think the mark of a great leader can be found in his or her citizens ( aka, the people they lead). I'm so impressed with President Kagame, and that's all I'll say about that for now. ( If the continent had 1 President, Pan African style.... he'd get my vote)
4. Nice Energy
There a calmness that exists, none of that rambunctiousness many subscribe to certain African countries, no - the people here ( so far) communicate well, and are seemingly able to keep their volume at a respectable level lol.
5. Sweet Music Baby!
The music is phenomenal I'm totally hooked. Ok - I'll alway love my Naija artists,( Wizkid don't worry) but Rwandan music is biting at the heels. These guys have beautiful voices. and ok, the world knows the Congolese to be arguably the best and most sexiest dancers, but don't play - Rwandan people are not far behind.
You can find your club bangers, or your easy going love songs.. it's all available here
Saturday, 28 September 2019
Sowore
Subheading:
..How I've come to accept that culture, is often more powerful than individual desire.
Let's begin.
Back In August, Omoyele Sowore was arrested in Nigeria, for calling for a 'revolution'.
Long story short, Sowore has since been charged, but was granted bail by the court last week.
Despite that, he is still being held in detention.
Sowore's brand of 'revolution' will not work in Nigeria.
His years outside of Nigeria, have mislead him to believe that the average Nigerian thinks as he does, and agrees demonstrably, that Nigeria needs change.
Sowore's arrest revealed many things
Firtsly, that he is greatly admired by people across the world, and of very senior ranking,
Secondly, he is resented, perhaps in equal measure, by many.
People with long held grudges came out of the woodwork to remark on his arrest , 'good!'... that he 'deserved it'
Sowore inadvertently became an 'outsider' with each passing year in 'the abroad.'
His mentality setting him apart further and further from the very people he's committed to fighting for.
Sowore had a cultural shift - his true revolution, cultural, but it was his and his alone to manage.
Sowore has been detained from his wife and children, for a cause that in reality, is not yet a cause.
...and in some ways may arguably be, no longer his to fight..
Question is.... what will Sowore, do next?
..How I've come to accept that culture, is often more powerful than individual desire.
Let's begin.
Back In August, Omoyele Sowore was arrested in Nigeria, for calling for a 'revolution'.
Long story short, Sowore has since been charged, but was granted bail by the court last week.
Despite that, he is still being held in detention.
Sowore's brand of 'revolution' will not work in Nigeria.
His years outside of Nigeria, have mislead him to believe that the average Nigerian thinks as he does, and agrees demonstrably, that Nigeria needs change.
Sowore's arrest revealed many things
Firtsly, that he is greatly admired by people across the world, and of very senior ranking,
Secondly, he is resented, perhaps in equal measure, by many.
People with long held grudges came out of the woodwork to remark on his arrest , 'good!'... that he 'deserved it'
Sowore inadvertently became an 'outsider' with each passing year in 'the abroad.'
His mentality setting him apart further and further from the very people he's committed to fighting for.
Sowore had a cultural shift - his true revolution, cultural, but it was his and his alone to manage.
Sowore has been detained from his wife and children, for a cause that in reality, is not yet a cause.
...and in some ways may arguably be, no longer his to fight..
Question is.... what will Sowore, do next?
Notes on Rwanda. It's The Little Things
I think it can be very easy to fall in love with Rwanda.
There's a sense of order, calm and discipline that I like. It's hard to put my finger on it, or highlight one , two , or a few things, so simply put, it's a pretty decent place to be.
Now I know that nothing, and no individual is perfect, but a harmony of being exists, that is admirable.
Now as I mentioned earlier, today is Umuganda, and the shops really did stay shut ( I checked wanting to buy snacks) until 11am, and most people are still cleaning.
I've just been walking around my local area, checked out a sauna place next door, and went in search on travel exchange, and what I can tell you is, there's a fresh aroma as you walk around.
Local pharmacy, health clinics ( I passed two ) and large children playground, all amenities in walking distance, that a community needs.
There's a sense of order, calm and discipline that I like. It's hard to put my finger on it, or highlight one , two , or a few things, so simply put, it's a pretty decent place to be.
Now I know that nothing, and no individual is perfect, but a harmony of being exists, that is admirable.
Now as I mentioned earlier, today is Umuganda, and the shops really did stay shut ( I checked wanting to buy snacks) until 11am, and most people are still cleaning.
I've just been walking around my local area, checked out a sauna place next door, and went in search on travel exchange, and what I can tell you is, there's a fresh aroma as you walk around.
Local pharmacy, health clinics ( I passed two ) and large children playground, all amenities in walking distance, that a community needs.
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