Giving it up - ALL or Nothing.

Ok. So, it's the 2nd day in November, and I've set out for a good cause (well, it's a good one to me). Happy new month, first of all. I've been down under for a while, but it feels so good to resurface - breath of fresh air (I am breathing in so deeply that I can almost feel the wear and near-tear of my lungs. Wow! The weekend was......... Lord knows that words cannot begin to tell it. But, the 411 is that is was MIND-BLOWING! I traveled down to the north - Kano, to be precise (as close as it is in proximity to Jigawa, it didn't cause nostalgia or have me swooning with bubbling bile. NO). And then, I met ma famile! My Kano family, I mean, and then my CFI family was there, too! Was there for a Grace Convention. And that? That was the highlight of the mind-blowing weekend. It was awesome. Lovely. And I miss these people that I have come to love with all of my being (I cried like I had been dumped and crushed while the car pulled out of the car park, on my way back. No kidding), and my mind's been programmed to know that without them, I'd be living a pretty empty life. I bless and thank the Lord for you guys. And I love you.... more than you believe.
But, I actually am off the course for which I set out to write this (I digress, sha).
So, I've set out on a good cause - my good and the good of some folks, too. I'm going to give up coca-cola this month. I've tried. Believe me. It was HARD. But now, I have what I did not have before: I have the power of motivation! Mu-hahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do it for the sake of charity - now that is a really good cause of motivation, wouldn't you say?
But, getting here was not easy. It was positively difficult. On the 31st of October, I vividly remember nearly losing my marbles while I searched for a last bottle of coke before the stroke of 12 (my very own Cinderella story). And this I did from 11:30pm to 11:57pm! I was livid, hysterical, and down right almost nuts when I couldn't find one! (who knew that stores and shops were supposed to be closed by that time!) And so, I got into this new month without a bottle of coke as my compensation. But, oh well! It is for a good cause, right? I'll miss you, coke, my daily dose of caffeine, my own bottle of sugar rush! But I had to let you go.... for now. But, believe me, it won't be for too long! Because, come December, the month of festivity, I shall be dancing on roof tops with a bottle of sweating coke in my hand, and a crate more in the freezer! And I mean every word of that LITERARY! Mmmu-hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mmmu-hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
'Nuff said.
Still, I miss you, coca-cola.

MUSE

I've got a near addiction for at least two foods - bread and Coca-cola. I probably could go days on end with just both of them. You know the popular question they ask of "what three essential things you'd have with if you were deserted on an island"? I'm almost tempted to pick Coke over water. Yeah. That bad. But, then again, simple and common sense and the acknowledgement of water as the element that saves lives, knocks me back into reality. Which just makes me become conscious of the fact that certain things are really not essential for our existence, and therefore makes addiction to them totally unnecessary. I still love my Coke, though. And yes, the dough too!
My brother loves fries. Sometimes, I almost think he breathes fries. He can have fries for breakfast and for dinner as a constant. So, there's always a nearly limitless supply of potatoes available. As I cut and sliced last night, I bagan to take solace in the fact that mine was not as bad as that yet. And hopefully not ever. The hard part? He prefers fresh potatoes being cut up by hand than the processed and packaged chips/fries. (sigh). Things we love.........
Shakira was in church yesterday. I stood singing and dancing to God's praise, and she just walked past me, clad in a very bright yellow outfit. I must say, she was far from anything I'd ever imagined or seen on tv. I never thought she even knew God....... Ok. It wasn't Shakira. Just some girl in her blinding yellow outfit with a black inscription of "Shakira" on the back of her skirt.
Well, it just made me wonder and marvel at the obscenities of some clothes learned people wear to a house of worship - cuts, shapes, inscriptions, and all - the inappropriateness and the whole shebang. It doesn't happen in just some churches - all! So, nobody goes thinking it's just in some new-generational churches. I remember being in my family's orthodox church, and during the communion, this dude walks past me to the altar in a black T-shirt with a huge picture of THE finger on both the front and back! I stared at him in sheer horror. Unbelievable sight. My mind immediately began to try and decipher the reason behind his waking up, grabbing that Tee, and pulling it on. I didn't know what conclusion to come to; whether the finger was at folks who would or had dared to say anything he deemed as wrong, or at the Reverend who offered the communion, or at G...... dare I say it? If it was........ HIS wrath not on me.
And so, it is safe for me to say that, along with many other wrong things and doctrines which have entered the church, obscenities is a new and almost welcome addition to the family. At least, no one's saying anything about it yet. Not that I'm aware of, anyway.
So, again, Shakira was in church yesterday. She was short, dark, and brightly coloured.
Does this whole write-up sound sorta disjointed or is it just me? Maybe it's because of my over-full stomach..... Or maybe it's my annoying neighbour with his nerve-grating singing voice, who just doesn't know when to stop!
I guess I'll just stop then. 'Narf!

Writer's Block?!

Yeah.... ok. Uhmmmm.... This is almost frustrating! My fingers remain poised above the keyboard while I just keep trying to reach into my head to fetch the words out, but it almost feels as if they're stuck with some adhesive in the shelf of my mind.......... I've been stuck on this line since like forever. I HAVE to write a blog today. I promised myself I'll write as often as I can on my blogspot this year.... And I must! Now, it looks like I'm having what I have come to know as the dreaded WRITER'S BLOCK! (This is where you hear that dreadful piano sound from horror movies and thrillers boom right behind you).
Ok.. I didn't major in English or literature or creative writing... I'm just one of those people who discovered my love for writing and developed my talent/skill as I grew. So, maybe that does permit me to have a brain freeze, does it? Please I need sympathisers! I wanted to know what writers should do when they experience momentary or periodical brain freeze - sorry - writer's block, and so I checked out some well-known writer's website. She says, in times like that, you need to take time out to refuel. Some of her suggestions? Read and absorb books that inspire you... like the Bible, autobiographies of your favorite people..., Watch movies (that make sense! What with all sorts of stuff out now, called movies!), take a walk, play golf (hmph! Ok, maybe other sports like tennis, bowling, puzzles...), sit in the mall and watch people (someone once said "wisdom is not in buildings, or pages of all books. Widom is in the streets, on the faces and actions of people". So get wisdom. And in all your getting, get understanding. So, be inpired!).
So, in the end, I think I should probably stop struggling and racking my brain, trying to scrape stories and words that are tightly adhered off the walls of my brain. If I should just take my time to refuel, it will all come back, and the stories will come out like peeling weak plaster off the walls. "If you build it, they will come!".......Bruha-ha-ha-ha! (evil laugh. :-))

From Within

Last week, my friend's - she is more like my sister - father was kidnapped. A ransom was demanded. He's back home now. He's ok. Everything is fine and back to normal. Supposedly. Was the ransom paid? Maybe. Maybe not. But that's not the issue - or all of it, entirely. The good thing is that he's alright. Right? So, naturally, we should all just heave a sigh of relief, mutter thanks to God under our breath or have a lavish thanksgiving service in church (which naturally will follow the order of things in this great countryof ours), then be grateful for the life spared, and not bother about the riff-raffs who apparently have no future (there is not a bright or dim future in a case where there is no future in the first place), that gave a whole family and friends the scare of their lives. Life is as it was. Business as usual. Welcome back the pasted smiles on painted faces, and talks through clenched teeth. S then, I should be ending this piece here, right? Wrong! This nonsense has gone on long enough! They just messed with the wrong family! Maybe I am a little angered. No, not a little - a lot. It will pass...... just give me a minute. It will pass. I should not m\be mad, I think. I should feel sorry for them. Yes, i do feel sorry for them. And pity too, for these imbeciles; because if they had known, they wouldn't have. if my friend's family pocket is lesser and theirs is fatter, they have just received and eaten their seed of destruction. Not because I say so, no. Not some charm or juju thing, never. But because I know the ONE who backs us - this family. The ONE who showed and will always show HIMSELF strong and LORD of our lives; HE who was and is our Comfort and Strength; our HOPE and REFUGE. The LORD will bring to book anyone who dares to touch HIS own. They dared. Now, it is payback time. No worries. I am sure you will know about it when it happens.
Now let me say this. I'm sick! Sick and tired of all these kidnapping ransom-demanding fools! All of them! Niger-Delta militants. No-Future-Ambition individuals. Political tyrants. People with the darkest, blackest, and 'wickedest' of hearts!
Interestingly, this incident happened in an area with not so much as an oil pipeline running through it - Benin. Notorious Benin. Wild and crazy Benin. My friend's father has nothing to do with petroleum and it's products or oily politics. So why was he kidnapped? What was the motive? To me, it was one built from envy and beef for a man who worked hard to build his empire from scratch! I'm not entirely sure of why he was kidnapped, but behind such wicked scheme has to be envy, jealousy and strife.
My friend's father is blessed and favored (I don't believe in luck). When I think of those who haven't been so fortunate, in the end, all we can do is thank God with all our hearts. But, will life just be as it was? I can't be so certain. Somewhere, a part of me thinks and believes that my friend's father will be extra-careful. Maybe bodyguards. Maybe extra security guards and a more complex security system. This is a good man. Why would anyone in their right senses and even the teeny tiniest of believe in God, want to put his life at risk? I said once and I'll say it again- God will definitely visit them; and trust me, it will definitely not be a visit they'll be looking forward to.
All this talk about militants nd terrorists for this our own Naija..... but no sign of it slowing or even ending soon. I just wonder... how did people who were relatively nobodies just get a break in fame and become well-known? How on earth have they been able to finance for the sort of and number of arms they carry? How do they have access to boats and other vehicles of mobilisation? How? Who is the miserably depressed and sadistic animal that backs them up? Questions..... Maybe I need a little more enlightenment. Maybe I'm still a little naive about this whole thing. But the truth still remains... It's so not right. But, everyday for thief \, one day na for the man wey get house. Just so they know; that 'one day' is closing in fast. Be careful, because if you open the door and peer around the corner, you'll se HIM fast approaching. Vengeance is HIS. I pity you. Tsk, tsk!
I have vented. I have poured it out. In anger. In pity. Now all that's left is a feeling of justice looming, waiting on the edge, to be executed swiftly.
My friend's father was kidnapped. Life will not be what it used to be. But thankfully, God's got our back. He's back home now. He's ok. Thanks be to God Almighty.
'Nuff said.

Lazy........ Or Just Delay?

It's been said that I am lazy. Well, I know that I can be lazy at times. And maybe those times have carried on to define my person to others. Misconception. Big. It's been my doing, I know. And to correct that wrong will also have to be my doing.
The main issue is not laziness. I'm not lazy. I'm not untidy. And I'm definitely not careless. It's my ability to PROCRASTINATE. That's the root of all this misconception. See? I've taken the first step: I've identified the problem.
Procrastination. I do that a lot. A whole lot. I have to pack my bags..... I'll do it later. I have to wash my hair..... I'll do it later. I have to clean the kitchen...... I'll do it later. Oops! I dropped the book on the floor instead of on the table. I'll pick it up later. See? that's what's killing me! Then, I come across as lazy or careless!
So, what right do I have to do to right the wrong that is so wrongly my representation?
For the past two months (starting sometime mid-March up until now, May), I've been trying to work out a method to get rid of the whole procrastination issue. Right now, that method is a little bit shaky, but at least, I've got a sketch of the whole thing. That's headway.
I take my jotter every night (which means I'll need a daily planner...... I'll get one later :-)) and write down everything I should get done the next day, starting with my quiet time, even unto the minutest of details. Stuff I know I have to do everyday comes up on a different list I call the "Everyday Stuff-to-do List".
When I drop stuff on the floor or in the wrong place, and I'm about to turn away , saying to myself that I'll do it better later, I will my mind and then my body to turn back and do it right then, and not later. What is worth doing is worth doing well, right?
I have procrastinated my book writing and poem collection for over two years now. So, this is my plan for that: every week, I must have a new poem added to my collection, and for my book, I must have a new chapter completed every week, starting next week (God help me!).
If I'm not making any sense or any effort that'll prove feasible, let me know. But, if I have learned right, I think I'm on the right track; I have identified (I should probably join P.A. - Procrastinators Anonymous); I have laid out a plan which I think is feasible and sensible, and I'm already working with it. It's hard, believe me, almost as hard as trying to break my Coca-cola addiction, but it's a race I'm determined to win. See, I must win. I have to win; if I'm to make any headway and impact on this earth, I must win it. I am innit to winnit! And I will, so help me God.
'Nuff said.

Small Pleasures

Ahhhh! Such pleasure and soothing-ness! Such feelings of pure, pure joy and relaxation! That's how I felt standing under the shower spray of hot water. I literally felt the stress melt away and the tension knotted up in my joints loosen up, and relief just flowed through me - bones, veins and all - from my head to my toes. And then my toes curled up in sheer delight. Mmmm...... lovely!
I had felt so much unease earlier while I lay down and read my Thisday Style magazine. my joints were stiff and aching, my nerves were jumpy and I felt restless, and my mind just felt totally clouded and I couldn't read or think clearly.
I needed to read till I felt sleepy, but that just wasn't happening. And so, the hot water shower idea, which was the only clear thought I had, came up. And the feeling? Oh! the feeling was so.......... glorious!
And then, it struck me! We always wait and look for the seemingly bigger things or greater happenings to take place before we give God praise and the glory due HIM and thank HIM. We thank God for saving us from accidents, for making that contract fall through, for giving us that six figure job, blah blah blah.... But not so. It shouldn't be that way. Nothing stops us from thanking HIM for the seemingly smaller things. I thought of millions of people who would give anything to have a warm bath cos they were freezing their toes off...............
And so, as I stood in the bathroom under the shower, letting the water spray hit my face and run down my body, I closed my eyes, took a moment and whispered to my Father, "thank YOU so much......... for a hot water shower".

IN THE SPIRIT OF SELFLESS SERVICE TO MY FATHERLAND

“Youth obey the clarion call
Let us lift our nation high….”
And it goes on and on. But this is the best part; the last two lines:
“Nigeria’s ours
Nigeria we serve!”
These are excerpts from the anthem for the National Youth Service Corps. Since its inception in 1973 by former Head of State, Gen. Yakubu Gowon, the NYSC scheme has reached a level of maturity in its own rights, and is now an important part of the Nigerian society and plays a major role in the lives of every Nigerian youth who dreams of getting a job in this country. Well, almost any job.
Now it seems, it is binding for every graduate to go through this program that includes on its buffet, vigorous physical training which is done by the serving of a complex dish of soldiers (even though I’m not entirely sure what is its purpose, we have been told that this grueling procedure is necessary for attaining physical stability which is necessary if one has to undergo the daily stress and hassles that comes with living and working in our society),and complimented by a dessert of practical knowledge in working in specific fields or environs.
Mankind bear me witness, I’d looked forward to my service year with mixed feelings of some sorts. Outwardly, I didn’t so much interest, but on my inside, I was secretly enthusiastic and excited. I wanted to know what it felt like to wear the khaki uniforms and be called a ‘Corper’. I wanted to go to a whole new place and experience an entirely new culture in our vastly diversified cultural nation. BUT, I didn’t want to teach in a school and risk being insulted and nicknamed by students even as I had seen happen to corpers in the past by other students and my humble self (hehehe). I didn’t want to get dumped in a village with no electricity, clean water, good roads, or GSM network signals!
As my time approached, and as human as I could ever be, wanting the best things in life, I began craving to serve in Lagos, where I was used to the bustling and hassling, or Abuja, where I was recently recuperating from ‘Lasgidi’ stress and getting used to the fact that life could indeed be full of some peace and quiet roads. So, I tried pulling strings to ‘work out’ my posting. That didn’t exactly work out as I’d planned. I got my first wish though – new place, new culture, new language. Electricity? Yes. Clean water? Quite clean. GSM networks? Definitely. Oh! And even less traffic-jammed roads! Not just in the place I’d quite had in mind. Them people in charge of the postings saw it in the natural line of things to send me up north. Way up north. A state just at the border. No, not at the border of Chad, but the Niger republic border. Got a map? Yes, that’s exactly where I am. Jigawa. A whole new place. Its slogan even depicts what I’m talking about – “A NEW WORLD”.
Jigawa is a state of extremities, I like to say. Extremely hot weather; extremely cold weather; extremely dry weather; extremely illiterate folks; extremely no-fun zone; extremely malnourished children; extremely cheap living area; extremely poverty-stricken people (yeah, Jigawa is the poorest state in Nigeria with 95% of its populace living in abject poverty. Fact). I cannot even begin to describe my entire experience on these pages (I would need to have a link from this site to an entirely new dedicated one for that). But take it from one who is currently experiencing it first-hand, living here is no joke. Apologies to those who may think their experiences are graver than mine, but I’ve got to tell it like I see it.
I got together with my sister and friends, and she went on about how ‘dry’ and boring Calabar is, talking about how she could take an okada from one end of the municipal to the other in twenty minutes. I suggested that she take a trip sight-seeing to Obudu Cattle Ranch; turns out Obudu is five hours away from Calabar city, and one would need some serious contemplation before making the journey. Then, they asked me about Jigawa (or Jiggy, as I like to call it).
I sat silent for a while before answering. Experience, they say, is the best teacher. Mine had shut me up and left me at a loss for words. I told them in this case, I’d let my emotions speak louder than any word I could have said (I just stopped short of wailing). Who was I to think of trying to compare Jiggy with Calabar or any other place? If only they knew. This was a feeling that could only be expressed and understood by one’s personal experience.
You could be travelling within Jigawa from one town to another for more than five hours. Nothing really strange there. No big. The only difference between what this would have felt like in some other state and what it felt like here, is the fact that in Jiggy, you keep staring out at the same dusty, deserted, plain out boring, dry and caustic scenery; no interesting landmarks, nothing. The only other time I’d had to travel 5hours within the same state was probably in Lagos, trying to get from Festac town to the Island. Need I explain why? And you have to trust Eko; boring scenery outside? I think not!
Anyways, enough of my feeling like the only shreds of activity I called my social life has been ripped off by these people. It hasn’t been all on the down low. I have met amazing people, made new friends, begun a new phase of my life, and now know that I won’t be spending my life growing old as a lonely sour puss! Truth be told, if you’re looking to escape the rowdiness of Lagos’ sights and sounds, or the peaceful activities and streets of Abuja, or are just looking to serve your country, as part of the anthem says, “under the sun or in the rain” (very hot, scorching, sun – we had to be given meningitis shots at the orientation camp), then this place is for you.
Or better still, dear parents and folks, if you’re pining to get rid of the party-sprit in your child or ward, just ship them off and down here (or is it courier services, rather?)! No payments or vouchers needed. A guaranteed cure in one month…….. Or your offspring back! Ha!