Lessons for a Re - Launch

I’m back on the wagon and to my first love. Blogspot. It has been a while since I did any blogging as i have been wallowing in my pity party. (And yes, I was the sole celebrant and attendee) All that’s in the past now though and I’m proud to say that I’m re-launching this blog. I’ll be posting observations, opinion pieces and short stories here.

For a long time, I struggled with my writing. It certainly didn’t help that I was versed in the fine art of prcastination. Yes, that very indulgent granny that tells you to relax. It can be done later. To be honest, procrastination was only half the problem. Being dishonest with myself and what I was feeling at the time helped to stop my flow. Either way, after all this time being out, I learnt several things which I will proceed to share.

·         Fear is the enemy of progress:

Wether it was fear of the unknown, of failure, or just plain intimidation. It only served to waste my time and make me unproductive

·         Honesty:

Until recently, I thought that writing was about imagining a situation and describing it in words. But that’s only half the work. The real work is to put it in such a way that people can read and relate to it and to do so I had to write about what I had experienced or, at the very least, understood. Writing exposes the personality of the writer and there’s very little that can be done but it is left to me to embrace that exposure and not run away from it.

·         I’m never going to be as good as I want to be:

No, this is not a defeatist statement. Just fact. There’ll always be something I think I can do better. A better word I can employ. But now, I can embrace all that with the knowledge that it is my path to improvement. I mean, who wants to peak in their twenties?

·         The ten thousand hour theory.

I first read about it in Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers. I was recently reminded about it by a friend during an IM chat. It states basically that, to achieve proficiency in any field, you need to spend at least ten thousand hours practicing. I can only hope my blog helps me there.

Of course, we learn many lessons along the way but it’s up to me to see that I apply them. Let’s just see how that goes.

Please comment and let me know if you have tried for something and learned something that deeply impressed you. 

Have a great day. 

the Day I saw the World

On the day that I saw the world.

For the first time, frightening, I so feeble,

So wide and big and filled with people.

I, weeping for the loss of the cocoon that shielded,

They, rejoicing for the gain of a one so awaited.

The questions in mind as they hoisted me high,

A doctor, lawyer, writer or why!

Even a president, their dreams did fly.

                                                  

In the twenty odd years that have come and gone,

And the sorrows and joys I have seen and borne,

In this, I remain thankful, most of all to You,

Lord most high, without you I’d be in a stew.

Even when I am in the wrong,

Your grace is there to keep me strong.

And my family, support of my existence.

Thank you so much for your love and persistence.

I frustrate you a lot. Yes I do.

But you’re all my favourite boos.

To my friends both near and far,

Know that you are always dear to my heart.

And though I may not call and text adlib,

I should hope we will meet in a better place anon.

With this I say happy birthday to me.

With hopes and prayers many more to see.

The Watcher

The Watcher

The blazing mid-day sun had morphed into the orange orb that heralded the evening and still the figure under the dwarf palm tree sat. Neither the billows of dust that swirled in the air, tossed up by the strong breeze that usually blew as evening wore on nor the lizards and other small critters chasing each other on the ground nearby caused the figure to adjust its position. The silence maintained was like that of a trance meditation.  Every once in a while, someone would pass by and the customary greetings would be returned with an absentmindedness that did not encourage further discussions.

Noko had seen the wraith in her dreams three times now. It sometimes came like a masquerade that she could almost touch. Sometimes it came like a spirit that she could barely see and threatened to possess her. She had seen it once before her father hurt his back at the factory where he worked and when her younger brother fell from the tree and broke his neck. As she sat and contemplated, knowing that it never boded well whenever she dreamt of it, her thoughts began to drift to Mesan. He had been gone for much longer than he said. The weeks had become months and he was giving no thought as to his return. The frequency of his messages to her had dropped off as sharply as the rains at the onset of the dry season. This fact was well known to even the most taciturn old man in the community and sometimes on her days out in town, she could catch the glances of pity, concern and, on the faces of a few younger girls, thankfulness to the almighty for sparing them such an experience. On one occasion, the elderly women were not careful enough to make sure she was out of earshot.

‘Imagine her wasting all her time on that ungrateful boy...’, the first intoned while curving her lips downward with disgust at the absent young man.

‘If it were my daughter, I would ask her to forget him. After all, Obum is always coming around to see her. He’s as good a man as any.’, The second added her own two cents as she inspected the bolts of material to make her choice.

‘The folly of the young. They just believe that everything is love, love love...’

As she sat and pondered over what to do, the questions started to beat against the locked door. Am I being silly? Maybe I should give Obum a chance. Afterall, he has been my friend for such a long time and he understands me. Presently, the said young man came into view as he walked slowly into the compound. He was noticeably taller than most of the youths in the community. He had a smooth complexion the colour of baked clay that could make many a local belle green with envy. He walked with a slight limp as a result of a childhood injury but all that didn’t detract from the attraction he evoked. He walked up to her and sat beside her causing hardly a rustle as was his usual manner. So unobstrusive he was. It sometimes amazed her how he could manage to move so effortlessly and silently despite his huge frame. The combination of his movement and her absorption did not serve to make her aware of his presence. She only became aware of him when he placed his hand on her shoulder calling out her name. She came out of her reverie to see him looking at her with that strange mixture of pity and possibly love that she had lately come to notice.

‘What are you thinking so hard about? Hmm? That you didn’t notice me coming?’, he asked with a slight smile that betrayed the fact that he knew just what the subject of her thoughts was.

‘Good evening. How was your day?’, She said hurriedly.

‘Fine. Could have been better though.’,he responded meaningfully.

‘I’m glad yours was better.’, She said with a wry smile. One of the few she had cracked that day. Though plain, when she smiled, the crinkling of her eyes made you want to smile with her.

‘Have you heard from....’, he asked quietly. She shook her head briefly. The silence fell. They sat in companionable silence for over an hour broken occasionally by observations made by either one of them about the weather or recent occurrences in the community.

*       *       *

The young man made his way slowly towards the compound that seemed vaguely familiar now as if seen in a dream. The trees and bushes rustled in the stiff breeze that blew. His walk down the path was slow and wearied as if he were Atlas carrying the world upon his shoulders. He trudged forward unfeeling, unaware of or perhaps ignoring the stares of the few people along the road at that time. No one stopped to speak to him or ask him anything. It would seem that he had become a pariah of sorts. His breath caught as he rounded the bend and his heart beat took on the tempo of a bata drum being beaten with gusto.

*       *       *

The silence had been hanging – long and heavy – and Noko had just stood up to wish her friend a good night. She only caught sight of him as she turned towards the ‘gate’ which was really just a space between the hedge that surrounded the small compound. As he came closer and she saw his face clearly, her eyes watered and for a moment she was speechless. As if of their own accord, she moved towards him and threw her arms around him burying her face in his shoulder and liberating the tears. He held on to her as she muttered over and over, ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I suffered. I suffered...’ They didn’t even notice when Obum took his leave. His heart heavy within his chest.

Lighting up Nigeria.... and Other Things

I know that the issue of PHCN and what they have done to place their dark signature on Nigeria is and has been overflogged. So what do I have to say. Nothing new. But the questions? Just one. Ever since incorporation, there has been legislation to grant this organisation complete monopoly of the electricity supply of the nation. So how do people believe that we can transmit 10,000 or whatever goal of Megawatts across an old power grid that has never been upgraded?

On a totally unrelated note, Hugh Hefner just got engaged. How does any girl agree to marry that guy. Oh, well. Some mothers do have them.

Book Review: Earn what you’re Worth by Nicole Williams with Cheri Hanson, 2005, Penguin Publishers

Financial and career management is something I didn’t learn a lot about in school beyond the ‘never-give-up’ and ‘save, save, invest’ speeches. Earn what you’re worth takes it a little deeper than that. It explores the psychology and perceptions people have about money and works on you from the inside out.


Written in a style that doesn’t exactly spoon-feed you but enables you to work things through – it fosters change in perceptions about work, money and careers. Aspiring entrepreneur or employee, it contains sound advice for discerning where you are, stating clearly where you want to be and mapping the journey there by covering topics such as sales, psychology, financial management, entrepreneurship. The book is a good base text for anyone who wants to find out what is needed to be financially savvy.

Sure, it’s mostly directed towards young women but guys, if you get your hands on one, don’t feel shy about thumbing through.

The Culture of Blame

Blame is defined by the Oxford Advanced Learners’ dictionary as ‘to think or say that something or someone is responsible for something bad’. The Collins’ thesaurus further adds replacement words such as hold responsible, accuse, denounce, indict, recriminate... Sounds a lot like the Kaita aftermath, doesn’t it?

Yes, I have seen a lot of the statuses (statii?) inveighing against the man and what he did. (which I do not defend, mind) Funny how we all suddenly remember that he’s a northerner. Never mind that that would be the same response no matter where he came from. (Also noticing, not for the first time, how tribalistic we southerners are. But I digress) Never mind that nobody has asked some pertinent questions about the others.  Like what were they doing all the while running up and down? How could nine other men fall apart just because one of their number is no more available? (I didn’t even know that Osaze was on the field playing until he was substituted. Go figure.) Yet it is so easy for all of us to blame him while sitting at home on our armchairs tweeting or faceboooking.

Let’s get a little further back to the roots...and I mean Adam - Blamer Extraordinaire. Scripture indicates that Adam was the one God told not to eat the fruit. Eve wasn’t there. Also, Adam knew exactly what he was doing when he ate it. Eve didn’t. And where was Adam anyway when the serpent was ‘toasting’ Eve? When push came to shove however, he didn’t want to admit that he had wilfully done something wrong. So, what does he do? He flings some dirt at Eve hoping it would stick. It does but that doesn’t excuse him and he gets a curse for his pains. For Eve, it’s time to play follow the leader and some dirt sticks to the serpent. That doesn’t excuse her either and she gets a curse too.

Fast forward a few thousand years later to king Saul – first king of Israel. Clear instructions from God. He wilfully disobeys and when he’s called out by Samuel, he blames the people. Until he’s told that he’s lost the kingdom, he insists on his point. Then he repents but too late, God has already moved on.

I often wonder what would have happened if Adam and Saul had just taken responsibility. Different outcomes? Perhaps. We may never know.

Blaming is a natural human condition. It comes to us so easily because it frees us from responsibility. We don’t have to find a solution. This is why people will always seek after spiritualists. These people tell them what they want to hear – they always find someone. The source is never them. This is why it is so easy to sit around and blame the government and the country for what is happening. Once we  do that, we no longer have to take responsibility for ourselves and what we do. We are excused from the burden of change.

For me, the pain of staying the same has become greater than the pain of change and I have purposed to take responsibility for myself and change my culture of blame.

Are you with me?