Happy Birthday, Wazobia

What citizen would I be if I didn't write about the "great" independence day celebration of our country. Wazobia is 52 today...hurray!! But I have a few observations, and I'd like u bear with me while I bring these issues to bear.
For years now I have noticed that the pledge of our country no longer has the soul that backs it up. There is no credible populace, in fact, no populace at all. How can we uphold a mantra without the "we" to uphold it. There is no life behind our honour, and honour as a principle has become as vague as the other virtues we once stood by.
A school of thought believes that the country is just a geographical location, but I dare say, this country is actually a waste of geographical space. The polity is decayed, the economy is ruptured, national values are ridiculed, the entity is in fact, a laugh - no wonder we have not lost our sense of humour.
Pondering hard about anything good in Wazobia, a suggestion came that atleast we don't have earthquakes. But in actual consideration, if earthquake control were to be the responsibility of one of the many agencies or commissions or even a ministry, we would have earthquake attacks like sun shines. The oil spillage incidents and flooding is a clear precedence of what "would be".
I am afraid that my children and their children would have cause to point fingers at us in their time, for how we watched (with folded arms), and how we contributed to the destruction of this our Wazobia. If they do, I won't pass the blame on those "leaders" (hmm, leaders) who made it their life's purpose to embezzle the country to poverty all the while filling their bank accounts to stupor, I won't blame the different agencies whose purpose have been long defeated and the teaming populace who have abandoned every trace of moral values and etiquette for self-enrichment(everybody's trying to get by). I will blame myself, yes me; For not standing up to the situation and instituting the needed revolution at the time.
Yes, the human mind tends to be passive atimes. Many times have we constantly heard this talk of change and how what needs to be done, needs to be done quick. Too long have we heard the rhetoric of men and women(some dead in the "war front"), who advocate for a better Wazobia. Yet, we all fold our hands and do nothing. We are too cowardly to act and too afraid; so much so that we would rather settle for the status-quo and leave the future for a bunch who care nothing about this country or its populace. So yes, its a pity but I blame us. The average seller in the market, as she constantly battles with the rise of products(even the price of bread has increased) yet will not say a single word in protest, the average civil servant struggling from hand to mouth and stuck in the "rat-race" with no savings to brag of, the average citizen allowing tough times to hit on him like waves from a troubled sea yet can not raise a voice of disagreement. I blame us all.
We all know who did what, who is doing what and who will do what, yet we all shut our mouth and live in fear. The staged protests organised from time to time, have been constantly hijacked by the money seeking ones, who stage it for their own gain( again). We know but we'd rather not speak out because we are afraid of the brother-master. A revolution is needed, and while trying hard not to sound like the rest of the complainers lurking in our once-independent press today, I want all to know that a revolution is needed. The question is, will you be part of it??

In elegy is life born
In sorrow sprouts tears,
Tear, such of joy
A lullaby is a rippless river
Bland in characteristics,
Still in nature.
In search of astonishment, I push
Pull is the force of identity
In search of joy is a tear given expression
-Anonymous

Fake Identity

I logged into my facebook account and saw “one new friendship request”. I checked up the guy’s profile, his name was Smith Bradley and from the profile I realized he was doing his BSc in London and his family was based in Germany...bla, bla, bla. Well, I accepted(don’t blame me oh! The guy was very cute from his albums).
We began to chat, our e-friendship grew by the day. It was from there I got to know he was born in Germany, raised in Nigeria and went back to Germany when he was 10. He told me about his family; that his father worked in Nigeria and that he retired before leaving for Germany, his mum owned a clothing line called Farshun in Germany, he was the lastborn in the family of five, the third boy and from all he said, they were well-to do. I told him about myself too….but since we never met, I was careful not to let out too much information. I never asked him for his cell number but he got mine, because he used a Blackberry and said I could text him anytime of the day and he would receive it. Two months after, he told me he had just finished his BSc in Imperial College, London and was coming to spend 6 months in Nigeria before going back to Germany. I was super excited.
He finally got to Nigeria and said he was staying in Lagos but that he wouldn’t mind coming to Calibara to see me, and maybe get to taste my cooking because I told him I was a great cook.
One Wednesday afternoon I got a call. I asked who was speaking and the caller said “baby, I am in your town. It’s me, Smith”. I was excited though but I tried not to show so much excitement, I just replied, “Wow! I am shocked, so when do we meet?”
“Um…I don’t really know where I am now, because I am not settled, but I will call you later”, he replied.
“Okay”
I called Dara over to the house to help me pick a dress. Dara has been my friend like forever and she was a big fashionista unlike me, so I knew she would have a perfect dress for a first date.
Dara came over with a dress for me, when I asked why, she replied, “Babe, we are talking about a Jand Bobo here, you want to show up with these your out-of-fashion dresses, like you don’t know how to be a hot chic?” I saw reasons with her, though.
After getting everything ready for my date…I began to wait for his call. Finally, at about 5pm I got a facebook message, it was a house address, then Smith added, “….sweetheart, you know the insecurity in the country these days, I don’t really want to sit out, plus I don’t really have much money in Naira, I am yet to change my money from Pounds. Seen the address? Please come over, don’t worry, you are safe. It is my Uncle’s house, my uncle and his wife also want to meet you. Dinner by 7pm…can’t wait. Love you. xoxo”
I immediately showed the text to Dara and asked her to locate the place. Dara asked, “locate where? To go and do what? You dey craze? Person wey you never see before? I no blame you”.
“Dara, why should I not go? I mean I have known him for some months now”.
“Kimberly, what is wrong with you? What if this guy is fake?”
“Well, we are not so sure. Why don’t you come with me then?”
“Me? Follow you to where? Please I love my life”.
I sat on the bed Dara was lying on, confused.
Dara said, “see oh! You don’t really know this guy, you are meeting him for the first time. Just invite him to someplace public, even if he doesn’t have money to pay for dinner, I will lend you money so you can pay. Don’t take this kind of risk”.
I immediately called Smith and told him I didn’t want us to dine in his uncle’s place and he said,
“Come on, baby, what’s wrong? Shouldn’t we meet?”
Somehow I don’t know, I just said, “You know we are meeting for the first time, so let’s meet in public, your uncle’s house may not be safe”….oh, dear I blew it, from the look on Dara’s face….I deserved a hot slap. Smith was quiet for sometime and then said, “So you don’t trust me, I thought you loved me” and hung up.
Dara was angry and got up from the bed, carried her bag and said, “Go wherever you want, I just hope this guy is not using charms, I know you better than this”. She walked out of the door.I was more confused than ever. I called Smith to apologize, but he wasn’t picking his calls. For the six months we got talking, this was the first time I ever felt he was so angry with me. I got on facebook to send him an apology, I noticed he had just deleted me from his friends list. What? In just about a space of one hour. I guessed he was really angry, I still sent him an inbox message saying I was really sorry. He replied, “Kim, since you don’t want us to meet. I just booked my flight for Friday morning…I will be leaving. I never thought you would hurt me. My uncle and his wife really wanted to see you…you just disappointed me. I thought I saw a girlfriend and someday, my wife, in you. Anyway, thanks for everything, have a goodnight”.
I felt my eyes getting a bit cloudy, I didn’t want it to end like this, I felt I had messed things up…I sent him loads of text messages conveying my apology. I then called around 10pm, he answered and said,
“Hi, what is it?”
I began to plead, I told him I was really sorry, and that I did trust him but I just felt that seeing him with other people around at that time wouldn’t just feel right. After about a minute of silence, he said, “baby I forgive you, I have taken back everything I said to hurt you, but please don’t do that again”.
I breathed a sigh of relief, he added me again on facebook and we had chatted for 3 hours, before I finally slept off feeling like a burden had just been lifted from my chest. The next day, I called him as early as 8am and asked if we could meet, he said he had a lot of his family and friends to see. That we could meet by 4pm. I went to school that day, so excited.
When I told Dara, I was going to meet Smith that evening, she just said, “Whatever!”. I wish I guessed she was up to something. Next thing I heard was that we had a fixed class from 4pm to 6pm. What??? I thought to myself, “Dara is the class representative, I bet she will help me on that”. When I approached her, she said, “Hehe! That lecturer may give test oh, you better attend”.
“But I have a date with Smith”, I replied.
“Has he set a venue for the date?”
“No. But he is going to”
Dara retorted, “Okay, if he loves you like that, tell him to come here to school and wait for you and pick you up after the lecture”.
I didn’t feel that was right, but after thinking, I called him and told him the situation, he hissed and immediately hung up. I felt bad. The lecture held and I couldn’t even concentrate. I called him after the class, his phone was off, I sent him several messages on facebook, he didn’t reply.
Dara saw me worried and said, “Come on, if he is your man, he will come for you, meanwhile, let’s go home, I am sleeping over at your place”.
I was angry that she was making fun of the whole situation. But I guessed she had a plan, she was sleeping over to ensure I didn’t go to see Smith.
I just told her, “if this is to prevent me from seeing Smith, forget it, I am on my way to his uncle’s house”.
Dara laughed and replied, “You are too smart. Okay, let’s go together”.
I was hesistant at first, then I said, “okay”. I guessed I would need her help (Two heads are better than one)
From the facebook message we tried to trace the house. By the time we got to the house, it was dark and the gate was locked. We asked people around and we were told the owner of the house wasn’t back from work. But then Dara asked me, “even if the owner is not back, how about his wife?”. I just shrugged my shoulders. After trying Smith’s cellphone several times and waiting for two hours, we headed home.
The next day I got a text, “You are such a B**ch!”. I tried calling the number it was off. I tried searching for him on facebook, it’s like he blocked me. I just accepted my fate, maybe he was not the one for me. I showed Dara the text. Before I could say Jack Robinson, Dara said, “Oh goodness! I am trying so hard not to say, I told you so” and burst out into laughter.
I asked, “Dara, why don’t you just wish me well?”.
She came to where I sat in the room and hugged me and said, “Oh no, sis! I love you and I wish you well. Don’t worry a better guy will come along, trust me”.
I just pretended to smile and hugged her back.
Smith never called or contacted me. It took me 2 months to forget about Smith. Four months after the-Smith-incident, by then I assumed he had gone to Germany, I had a 7a.m. lecture. While waiting for the lecturer, I quickly got on facebook, I had a message. It was from University of Calibara Discussion Forum (UCDF). It read, “If you have ever come across any guy that says he did his BSc in London, and is about starting his MSc in the US and also that his family lives in Germany, he calls himself Smith, he is fake ohhhhhhhhh”.
I exclaimed loudly, “What?????”
Dara said, “shut up you, I am trying to read”. Just then, the lecturer entered the class. I knew I wouldn’t concentrate after such a shocking news, I walked out leaving my phone, my books and handbag behind. I couldn’t believe I had just been P-U-N-K-E-D.
I rushed to meet Mason, one of the admins of UCDF which I was close to, and asked him to explain what the message was all about. He told me plainly, “I hope you never met such a guy. He is wicked. I have been trying to cover him up all this while, only for him to brag yesterday that he now has girls falling for him. His real name is John. He actually schools here in University of Calibara and he is a 300L student studying equipment management”. He showed me his real pictures.
“Then how about all the pictures he put up on facebook?”, I asked.
Mason replied, “All of those pictures are his cousin’s, Ty. I bet the guy doesn’t even know about this mess”.
I dragged out my hair ruffle, scattered my hair and sat down on the veranda Mason stood. He just stooped down and said, “Hmmm….I wish I knew you were involved. If I tell you what he said about the girls who fell for this prank, you could go crazy. So "gurl", get up and get past it”. He walked away.
When I finally got to meet Dara, I told her everything…she just held me tight and took me home.
Two weeks later, I saw the so called John. He had the guts to walk up to me and smile and say, “hi babe, I am sorry for what happened. I just enjoyed every moment.”
If you were me, what would you do?"
I quietly walked away to prevent any drama.
-Esther Asamudo

Imagine if you had a thousand words left to speak in this life, and your last word would mean your last breath. What kind of things would you say; to your family, to your colleagues, to your superiors, to your younger ones, to that very annoying roommate, to that annoying salesperson, to everybody you came in contact with for that duration? Would you regret the words you “wasted”, or the things you said on empty stands, every lie you ever told, every empty talk you ever made? Would you learn to appreciate people more with your speech? Our words are our creation and every word has the ability to bring to bear not only our thoughts but also to form and transform the lives of the people around and about us. Part of being human is communication, but what exactly do we use this expressive ability to do. What do we actually say in our lifetime? Is our speech full of a lot of words (even sentences) that we feel do not have a lot of meaning attached to them, or do we keep saying things we always wish we can go back and change? Our expression is very essential in survival. Though we all have a different path in life, our paths are all together intertwined for the “ultimate purpose”. So in essence, our words can either make or mar people. Not necessarily oratory, but all together too; history tells of people who led wars and unified nations by words.

Stories from the Market...2

What do we do when we wish to come true, and really be in touch with our feelings, when we have decided that maybe we have been lying to ourselves and where we are is not exactly where we should be? The universe does have a sense of humour; sometimes we are the object of humour; when we are always trying to be who we are not and where we are not supposed to be, and sometimes what we wish for is not always what we are ready to stick with. Of course we are all fallible, and any tale of being careful so as not to make mistakes is a lie born out of ignorance. But if we could let ourselves pause and think sometimes....are they always worth it? All the anticipation, expectation, or even our fantasy wishes for or from life. I understand that it is hope that keeps every man going each day, but do we ever wonder if our ‘hope’ are sometimes misplaced, if we are going ten-thousand miles an hour in the wrong direction. Anticipation does get disappointed and most times we are torn apart when they do. Devastation as a word may not even be able to describe how we feel when it does happen, and our feelings (which, like every emotional perspective in the world, are relative) evolve, almost volcanically, and anger being a part of them doesn’t make matters better. The world is a rotating ball: agreed, but that doesn't justify us trying to run faster than the destiny we pursue. Things are not always in black and white, that is why there are roses and velvet.

Stories from the Market

"I can do everything.. but change". Those were his words, and as they sunk home (or at least tried to), it made me realize all the more to never let ignorance be an excuse for folly. To babes (in every sense of the word) the only thing they can afford to live for is change. Believe it or not their hope (if they be any), or their main fabric of existence is dependent on the fact that they will not be in the same position or stage they are now; either mentally, psychologically or physiologically. To them, the world keeps spinning because they believe in cycles, a chance to grow and experience; everything they have been told not to do and ones that are yet to come into existence, they are eager for consciousness and a mental awareness to be able to wait and expect eagerly for each day (like the adults before them), to take everything life brings to them each day with new energy and be surprised by those circumstances that take man unawares and sweep us all off our feets (figuratively speaking), and at least have a sense of purpose. It is this patience inspired by hope of things not yet seen but eagerly expected that keeps the world spinning round.So you crush dreams, possibilities and in essence lives when you say you "don't believe in change". But then again, to the gray its only thoughts of the good old days that is an inspiration to continue in this world when it looks like all energy have been spent and life has been fully lived albeit sometimes with regrets. Even the regrets and the 'what could have been' leave a sense of longing and longevity; they wish to pour on their wisdom (though mostly experience and life lessons, but wisdom all the same) to younger generations, whether related or not. The life they had before is the only life there is (at least so they think) and change is an uncomfortable circumstance that reminds them or tries to remind them that their life here is slowly drifting away and gradually coming to an end. What past life they had will be their only description of this world and an autobiography could be a means for them to reminisce on this life and show that (to them) there could certainly be nothing more. So to different people there are different means of expression but whether we like it or not, the world's rotation is inevitable, so we can chose to run with it or be in the same position; and let life meet us at "position zero".

Its a lovely weather here today in the western part of Africa. Speaking of...a lot of friends have this view that the weather in this part of the country is strange and always at extremes. The sun here is extremely "scorchy", almost so much that it doesn't take walking a long distance to have yourself and your shirt soaked in sweat. The temperature sometimes reaches about 35 to 40 degrees an hour before noon and the dryness in the atmosphere can all culminate into a very distressed day. The once very cool environment early in the morning turns to blazing rooms in noon and coupled with inconsistent supply of electricity, the whole surroundings makes you cast doubts on survival...albeit unnecessary and paranoia. On other occasions it rains cats and dogs and in a very unpredictable manner that the safest bet is to always carry an umbrella (or a rain coat). A bright warm morning can be very deceptive as one doesn't really know when a heavy downpour will suddenly be the weather of the city and your wet clothes will have a story to tell. This is also coupled with cold that comes from unrelenting breeze flooding through any open windows or doors, sometimes through cracks and holes around (at least that is how it seems). But today, like some days like it (even though they are a tad such times) the light evening showers succeeded in leaving everywhere cool and pleasant enough that life regained meaning(too deep?). The clouds formed shapes that though could not be interpreted, were beautiful. The light intensity was balanced and evening came upon us soon making me nostalgic of days prior to the advent of global warming. The trees were dark in their stands (towering high enough to scare infants) and their sways was a testimony that life is not always torrential. The air smelled fresh and it was easy to just sit on the balcony and take it all in without being conscious of time passing by. Some say these changes are because of global warming, and others believe that global warming is a topic for a conspiracy theory. Others believe the weather is normal and whenever it shifts or looks abnormal, it needs some time before it returns to stability. I am not really the kind for arguments, so trying to settle the cause for shifting weather conditions is more of a spectator sport from this stand point. The important hing is that sometimes its cold, sometimes its hot and other times, its just plainly peaceful. There is always no cause for alarm.

The art of love…I do know that love is not meager like has been wrongly portrayed these days. Its not the flicker of emotion at a passing beauty, its not an overly appreciated act of kindness, its not the gifts or false pretence of care. It’s to be sought for. You don’t have love and loose it and it will stand amidst of misunderstandings and disagreements. Its likely for a break down in communication buh nt a break down of love. So many people have so misunderstood it and think every time they have become victims of lust with the wrong partners, they can easily play on the trump card of break up; or divorce, on the higher scale. Love is under rated. How many people have you told that you loved without actually meaning it. And how many times have you actually said it: let me help you there, so much you have lost count.

Nigeria is at the brink of a meltdown: socially, politically, economically and even socially. the result of all dese crackdown of law and order could be dat d long awaited development may just take a little bit slower. my only question is; why don't people just resort to facebook or twitter for their protests, bcos i really lyk dis new idea of e-protest(it jst confirms d fact that everythinbg is turning 'e' in the world). rather than cause trouble all around and deaths together with property destruction, lets get onlyn and be posting, twitting, even blogging our complaints. what do yhu think?