The Labour Of A Hero Past

"A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in" - Dr. Dora Akunyili's closing proverb after her speech at the National Conference.

This day, my commemoration goes out to a graceful amazon. An icon. A rare gem. Late Dr. Mrs. Dora Akunyili, a woman who clenched the baton of leadership as the Director General of National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control, and left her footprints in the sands of time having undauntedly transformed so significantly the face of what the agency used to be prior to her appointment. Her unsurpassed achievements there spoke volumes and put her on the pedestal as a patriotic, diligent, courageous, tenacious and selfless public servant.

Unsurprisingly, her academic and professional pedigree earned her this crucial status. Dr. Dora Akunyili got her First Degree in Pharmacy B. Pharm (Hons) in 1978 and PhD in 1985 from University of Nigeria Nsukka. She was a Post Doctorate Fellow of University of London and a fellow of the West African Post Graduate College of Pharmacists. She was also trained on Senior Management Skills Course in RIPA, London and Computer Education Programme by WHO/UNDP/World Bank sponsored in 1998 and 1994 respectively.

From 1978-1981, Dr. Akunyili started her career as a Hospital Pharmacist in the University of Nigeria Teaching Hospital, Enugu. Afterwards, from 1982 to 1986, she ventured into academics as a Graduate Assistant (Research Fellow) in Faculty of Pharmaceutical Sciences in U.N.N. There, she made steady progress from Lecturer 1 in 1986 until when she was made Senior Lecturer in 1990. In 1992, she transferred to College of Medicine, U.N.N. where in 1996, she was made a Consultant Pharmacologist, until her appointment as the Director General of NAFDAC on 12th April 2001. Before this time, she was a part-time lecturer of the West African Postgraduate College of Pharmacists, Lagos, Nigeria from 1992-1995 and for four years, served as the Zonal Secretary of Petroleum Special Trust Fund, where she coordinated all projects in the five South Eastern States of Nigeria (Abia, Anambra, Ebonyi, Enugu and Imo States).

Evidently, the onus to sanitize the nation of substandard foods and drugs at a time sugar syrup and chalk tablets were marketed as actual drugs fell on Dr. Akunyili. Then, various studies put the prevalence and circulation of fake drugs in Nigeria at above 60 percent. Devious individuals made riches from indulging in such deviousness. It meant she was going to step on toes, touch a living lion's tail and endanger her personal safety. Did she cower at the considerable enormity and risk of the task? Not in the least. She just wasn't one of the people who wriggle out of their call and purpose to serve and make the world a better place. She came forward and accepted the mantle, worked so vibrantly, negotiated death threats, rebellious attacks and antagonisms with a sense of purpose, fortitude, integrity and uncommon passion.

She was endowed with so much gifts and she made sure to use them. She worked hard.She achieved so much.She strengthened the modus operandi of NAFDAC, instituted the culture of excellence and honesty by creating relevant channels that tracked the integrity of drugs from conception through production, distribution and dispensation. Brilliantly, she introduced the registration of all drugs by giving them codes as a way of controlling sold and consumed substances in the country. For imported drugs, she went to their countries of origin, established well structured pre-shipment checks before exportation. As a Minister of Information and Communication, she initiated the Good People, Great Nation re-branding project to address Nigeria's negative image, home and abroad. As the member of Federal Executive Council, she revealed the state of health of the immediate past President Umaru Yar'Adua, when everyone else played to the gallery. Such courage and uprightness.

I never met her in person, but greatly admired the eloquence and intensity with which she spoke on air during interviews or conferences. She appeared assertive and thus offered no apologies for her course of actions."Agu Nwanyi", I'd mouthed off on such occasions. She was strong. Her sense of style I appreciated, traditional and elegant. She was an embodiment of the best parts of womanhood. Dr. Dora Akunyili was all that.

I marveled at her passion and bravery, when she stood as a delegate at the National Conference to deliver a speech in frailty, at a time when her doctor probably told her her days were numbered, refusing an offer to rather deliver her speech seated. That, to me is a manifestation of her genuine love for her country. This is no doubt how she would want to be remembered, as someone who fulfilled her pledge to be faithful, loyal and honest, someone who served Nigeria with all her strength, someone who defended Nigeria's unity and upheld her honour and glory. Her legacy lives on.

May her beautiful soul rest in peace.

Awake Finally For The Soccer Fiesta in Brazil

The dream was vivid, with Diego Simeone sprinting towards and over the perimeter board that demarcated the spectators stand and the pitch, hugging quite vigorously enthusiastic fans who were majorly clad in white and red striped jersies, and literally over themselves in euphoria that could only be compared to that of a group of miners, whom in search of ore, dug gold instead. Faces turned red from excitement, jubilation and wide grins. Contours of vein could be traced on everybody's forehead as they chanted songs of victory echoingly all over Praça do Comércio stadium. Confetti of white and red paper and sparks of bright red light floated endlessly over their heads.

Iker Casillas nodded in despair as he successively pulled out his gloves with his teeth and made to hug Simeone. Di Maria squatted and wept inconsolably. Benzema stood akimbo with looks of belief written all over his face. Cristiano Ronaldo stuck out his tongue, nodding in shock as well as the unpleasant reality that the game is over and they lost. Pepe and Ramos stood side by side, Pepe appearing to be mumbling something to Ramos.

Athletic Madrid had won the Champions League.

It was the sweetest dream I wished would last forever, but the header from Ramos that sent the ball wild into the goal net brought me to a rude awakening, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

In subsequent days, I discovered I had become phobic to soccer related matters as a result. I turned deaf ears to post match, side street analysis of how Athletico Madrid would have been better winners. I retreated from Facebook and Twitter because I feared stumbling across one of those Goal.com's articles on what Coutois failed to do or Football Funnys' caricature of Diego Costa's injury and how it cost his team. In fact, I didn't want to hear about Mascherano's contract renewal or Balotelli's engagement rumours. I was that heartbroken and the only consolation was Nigeria or Argentina winning the world cup, but then the implausibility of that happening stared me in the face.  That admittance prolonged my bad mood till I saw the second half of Saturday's friendly between Argentina and Slovian, and realized yet again....football is beautiful.

I came alive, cheered Argentina, relished every second, screamed, jumped up and down the stool I was sitting on when Messi scored. With Barcelona's poor run last season, I had forgotten the joy of winning, and there was this game and my zeal was re-ignited.

Now, I can't wait for the first 2014 World Cup in Brazil, quite with regrets though. Regrets over my botched plan to be there live due to an unfortunate incident. I had made all these "stuffs to do in Brazil" list, stuffs like paint my face and each of my nails green, white, green, have the Caipirinha cocktail, watch the Super Eagles train at their Team Base Camp in Campinas, take long walks in Curitiba's popular theme parks and Cuiaba's as well, dash over the perimeter board for a Lionel Messi hug when Argentina and Nigeria play, just before national anthems go off. I was pretty ready to bear the consequence, even if a deportation. At least, I would have achieved one of the world's greatest things. Regardless, I'm thankful that with most of the nightly match schedules, work won't interfere with my noisy palour moments behind what has become my favourite gadget, the telly.

I hope Nigeria, any of the featuring African countries, Argentina, Spain or Brazil wins, otherwise I might recede to my phobic state. Well, only if Portugal or England wins. :D

The Change You And I Need

I'm one of the most positive people around, but this time, optimism eludes me. I'm starting to doubt the  redemption of Nigeria. My motherland seems beyond repair. I'm an 80's baby and I can't remember any time when Nigeria wasn't in one strife or the other, always thorn between wars, poverty, corruption, vandalism, militancy/terrorism besieging and overtaking it. Back when I was a kid and a member of the Block Rosary, we always prayed for "Nigeria in Distress".  In current times "Nigeria in Distress" remains a prayer point. Decades ago, I had relatives and family friends who emigrated in search of better and safer living in western countries. Today, this phenomenon still continues because at frequent junctures, the country had dealt with alarming monstrosity, internal wars and insurrections which have robbed citizens off of their sense of safety.

There's been multiple terrorist attacks in recent times that I've lost counts. Still fresh in my memory is the recent triple incidents of the April 14th bomb blast at Nyanya motor park, the abduction of teenage girls at a government secondary school in Chibok, Borno State on April, 24th and the May 1st bomb blast, also at Nyanya, all in the northern region, which currently seems to be in a state of anarchy with Boko Haram terrorists becoming so powerful and overtaking it. Quite daringly, the sect has stated their responsibility for majority of these felonies, particularly the abduction of more than 200 secondary school girls.

Pessimists on the other hand raised critical arguments disputing the genuineness of the abduction saga. They nurse doubts on the possibility of transporting off more than 200 girls in broad day light in an area under a state of emergency, the possibility of finding this number of science students only in a remote village of Borno state. They also reasoned that the claim by the group's leader, Abubakar Shekau to "market" the girls meant they were still alive, and as result should have featured somehow in his video message if indeed they had them. Their conclusions - the whole abduction scandal is a politically inspired hoax designed to further depict the incompetence of President Goodluck Jonathan to be at the helm of the country's affairs at the moment and in future.

In any case, fact remains that the president failed to take the bull by the horn. In an interview with CNN on Tuesday, Mr Wole Soyinka opined that President Goodluck's government "is not only in denial mentally, but in denial about certain obvious steps to take". From recent developments following the abduction, I think the government is rather confused. The president waited three weeks after the abduction before he gave a public address, probably because he needed to ascertain the authenticity of the incident. He had all the resources, authority and power to do just that, but after he accepted U.S. offer to help in finding the girls, it was obvious he was either confused about what to do, afraid to step on toes or both.

This ineptitude in the face of extreme anarchy on the president's part no doubt is one of the major reasons the country has greatly deteriorated in the past five years, but then our situation is also a product of our individual decisions or compliance with the wrongs which feeds the evil that is now terrorizing us. In the name of bigoted cohesion, majority of us are ready to defend and streamline despicable acts of our leaders because they are of the same ethnic, religious and social group as us. As I stated earlier, some are already trying to rationalize and excuse the enormous failure of the President Goodluck Jonathan government in tackling terrorism in the country thus far. They're bothered more about protecting his second term ambitions, even when results of his first term reign so far has been abysmal.

I was having a chat with a friend, and he cited unpatriotism as the major reason the country is crumbling. Nigerians don't care about the general well being of anyone else, provided that their ethnic group in particular are favourably placed. We lack the spirit of oneness and base the structure of our government on quota and rotational system rather than established capabilities and achievements. In that way, we form various interest groups that seek to foster the political ambitions of the ethnic groups we are members of. For instance, Boko Haram whose other agenda is that Nigeria should be governed by a Northern Muslim otherwise all hell will be let loose, like it already has.

Apparently, we are still being hunted by the forced 1914 amalgamation that saw more than 250 ethnic groups that didn't share any form of cultural, religious, dialectal similarity united as one, forced to accept the Nigerian identity by Lord Lugard and his cohorts in profiting attempt to rule successfully and easily. Therefore, till today, we are still struggling to adapt to the plan of being one Nigerian as against being Efik, Yoruba, Igbo or Hausa.

Because this condition has caused us more harm than good by way of ethnic clashes, religious conflicts and terrorism which have thwarted the advancement of our country in general, and as long as we are one Nigeria, we can try to suppress our ethnic inclinations and embrace the spirit of oneness as propagated by our exemplary heroes past.

I join in the universal campaign and demand that our beautiful sisters be freed.

Yes, #Bringbackourgirls.

The Journey of Self Discovery

 Dream what you want to dream, go where you want to go, be what you want to be. Because you only have one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.

Hello friend :D

Phew!!! It's been like forever right? I really need to find other tangible or good enough reasons other than "I've been busy"..... A friend of mine who was upset by my long hiatus felt nothing should encroach on my blogging periods or "this beautiful thing you have gong on", according to him, not even work. Actually, he suggested that I face writing squarely and permanently. And you know what that means.

Though he hesitated when I asked if he'd pay the monthly internet access that I need.., he still raised a good-ponderable point which got me into thinking, thoughts that took me down memory lane.... I feel these thoughts were necessary because I can't know where I 'm or should be going if I don't quite understand how my journey began.

The truth is I never quite grasped my writing skills till most recently. I strongly believe it's a God-given talent that had long existed untapped mostly because it was unbecoming, considering reading wasn't exactly my idea of relaxing, plus I couldn't mute my then lecturer's voice inside my head saying "you must be a voracious reader to be able to write". For this fact, I never really imagined I could artistically pen words together into a piece. However, I must say I'm much better because of my recent improved reading skills.

People attribute my fated course of study in the university as a deliberate sequel to this skill, which they're so sure had always been discovered. The truth is that I settled for Mass Communication because Law wasn't forthcoming as I desired, an outcome I grew to be grateful to God for till forever. The submission to my course of study at that time wasn't born out of any inspiration.

As a student, I'd say I received a good orientation from a sister who always nagged me about the importance of graduating magna cum laude as that will give me enormous edge over the rest in the labour market, a notion that didn't turn out as anticipated. LOL!!! Anyway, that's a story for another day. Plus some strict lecturers who would rather we spent our spare times in the library rather than the parties. Because these people played important roles in my life, their admonitions greatly influenced me, positively. Well, no thanks to them for converting me into a book zombie who knew little about beauty pageants /cultural events or any social activities ever organized in my four years in the university. I was indisputably boring. Not that I'm proud of it or ashamed..... Their orientation only birthed a studious student whose only aim was to make a 2.1 and land a good job as a result, though I wasn't sure what it was I wanted to do.

So, I made plenty of As (even in almighty Critical Writing and Reviews, one of the most challenging exams I ever had to write.) and Bs, few Cs, one D, one E, one F (a moment for some reasons I and my friends found hilarious) and comfortably graduated with a second class, upper division. In between these feat runs, I still hadn't noticed this talent, even though I had an internal resolution that broadcasting was off the chart. However, others did, but I doubted them.

I joined a leadership Institute (still as an undergraduate) aimed at empowering young women to tap and achieve their highest potentials. The lovely women there believed in me, even though I sucked at public speech presentations, because once friendly eyeballs I had grown used to during the course of the training suddenly became like bullets that seemed like they'd pop out of their sockets and make their ways right into my heart. My microphone and camera phobia is understandable after all.  Through them, I met notable and successful Nigerian women, interviewed them and compiled beautiful stories about them, stories that made the organizers recommend a career in Journalism.

I have since embarked on this writing journey, the peak of it so far being this blog, an achievement that I'm currently most proud of. It's not been easy. Sometimes, I lack the motivation to go on, other times, I'm just too lazy to boot my laptop. Regardless, I'm grateful that I've become better over time. I believe there's still plenty of room for improvement, which is why I think my blunt friend (hi ND) wasn't outrageous in his suggestion that I become a full time blogger/writer. Practice makes Chimamanda Adichie. :D

I may not heed his advice (because I'm too chicken to take such a brave step), but I'll definitely strive to be more consistent with my posts even if it means staying up till 2am....

And as for you, hold on to that dream....

Kisses, Hugs, Dream on!!!

In Touch With Humanity

The "human" in human being is what differentiates us from animals. According to the Encarta Dictionary, the adjective "human" means "showing kindness, compassion and approachability. Other words like gentle, warm, caring and charitable can all suffice. This element of our being demands that as sane adults, we should be able to identify and understand other people's emotional states or feelings at all situations. It can also be known as empathy. Apostle Paul emphasized greatly on this when he advised us to always empathize with friends/families/neighbors in their moments of grief, misfortune and revelry. You can look up for the precise message in Romans 12:15-16 and Hebrews 13:3. Now, aside from Christians, this is a generally applicable rule to every human existence, religion and discipline.

As a Mass Communication student back then, I was trained to always embrace the ethics of humanity in the course of my daily duties as a Journalist. I was not to descend to taking "apt" pictures of an accident scene rather than seeking/getting/offering some form of help to susceptible victims. In a similar way, pro bono publico is common in legal profession, marketing, medicine, architecture to provide professional services to indigents.

However, recent phenomena have greatly made me to think over the possibility of the fact that we might have lost all focus on this one distinct human characteristic.

I was on my way back from work sometime last week when I noticed a little fracas between two young men by the road side. At first sight, I dismissed it as a little misunderstanding that would be resolved easily. On a second look, I noticed a number of cheerleaders who were fanning the flames of fight when they could have tried to douse flaring nerves and nipped a fatal outburst in the bud. It was even more horrible that some policemen were present and carelessly replied few pleas to intervene with mantras of "make them kill themselves" . As I dreaded, the fight escalated into a huge menace - more people got involved, the road became the ring, punches were thrown around, weapons were thrown back and forth, there was heavy traffic jam. The throng of entertained arm-folded spectators didn't do more but edged closer to get a better view. Some were recording the "movie"with their phones, to maybe upload it on Facebook later. Like vampires, the smell of gushing blood lured them all the more closer. I was shocked, shocked at the level of people's cruelty and coldness.

At that spot, I was rudely awakened to the reality of the Aluu Four Killing footage, the lack of emotions on some spectators' faces as they audaciously witnessed their fellow human beings being tortured in the most dehumanizing manner. Some mocked while very few cringed.

And a lot more scenarios....

A TV watching mother who yelled "shut up" to her child who wouldn't stop "whining" (according to her) about needing water, a driver who was too impatient to apply the break so that a heavily laden woman under the scorching sun could cross the road, the young man whose eyes were fixed on a heavily pregnant woman standing in a bus, but still wouldn't offer his seat, another young man who scoffed when a lady strutting in her high heels tripped and fell to the ground, two more young men who found the blood stain on the back of a woman's skirt funny, a teenage girl who felt blessed and thanked God when blood trickled down the face of another teenage girl she was fighting with. Yes, I actually witnessed all these happen. These realities and more bothered me greatly and I sought to find out the reason why human beings could be thus cruel and unfeeling towards fellow human beings.

Lack of empathy is basically as a result of bad parenting. Psychologists believe feelings of empathy is innate in humans but its development might be affected by early experience. Therefore childhood (especially within the first five years when 90% of the brain growth takes place) is the critical time for developing empathy. Simple neglect or trauma (which is characterized by failure to cater for a child's physical, psychological, mental and spiritual needs ) at this stage could lead to the child's disconnection between people and pleasure. Undoubtedly, parents can help create a huge difference by helping their kids develop a sense of respect and worth for self and others.

As much as empathy can be learned, it can also be un-learned. Our brains can be desensitized when we constantly feed them with graphic images of horror, devastation or violence to the point where we lose compassion for the people involved. Though the mass media, especially the internet are the greatest inventions in the information transmission, however, they have caused the wane in our feelings of empathy, because...

1. it has generated an unhealthy competition of who can transmit the most gruesome video or picture, the same enthusiasm that could have possibly propelled the paparazzi to take pictures rather than try to rescue accident victims at Princess Diana's accident scene in 1997 and other similar situations.

2. we have lost the natural taste of serenity, and rather overwhelmed continuously with irrelevant distractions from our tellies, phones, computers, Ipads etc. Consequently, our ears and eyes become automatically closed to loved ones' cries for help. How many times have you taken rain checks on an appointment with a friend who had something urgent to discuss because you had to keep up with the Kardashians? How many times have you delayed your kids' dinner with your "just a second"excuse to finish a chat that was as urgent as detangling your Brazilian hair? Perhaps, sometime ago, someone had made for your Blackberry phone because you wouldn't pay full and genuine attention to an actual conversation with him or her.

3. the anonymity of the internet has enabled some of us to be cruel with each other thereby eliminating all traces of empathy and humanity in us. It then means we can condemn, debase, denigrate, and poke fun at other people.

4. "people are more interested in plane crashes than stories of childbirths". Information technology no doubt has fed into this trend by providing the gateway to witness these plane crashes as they happen. Instead of stories that inspire, news is filled with one bomb attack to another, accidents, rape cases and other disasters, doom and gloom.

I am not exempted. Lately, I've grown tired of reading or hearing any more about Boko Haram's genocides and vandalism. I quickly scroll past gory pictures and details of accidents. I've become antagonistic and suspicious towards beggars which has resulted in my reluctance to offer alms. Now, it's easier to scold an about 4 year old beggar to get off the street and go to his mother than dip in my wallet like I normally would have done. I think my feelings are born more out of helplessness and hopelessness than empathy for these people. In my moments of hopelessness, I simply wished I had the power to amend the situations that bad leadership/parenting had created in the first place.

Unfortunately, my wishes can't proffer solid solution to the problem. How can feelings of empathy be instilled, promoted and maintained in people?

At homes, parents can start by creating warm, conducive and safe environment at home, one free of abuse, bitterness, excessive/routine corporal punishments as these can result in fear and aggression in the child. As a parent, you can as well lead by example by showing behaviours of empathy. Children are likely to display compassionate and selfless behaviour if they had seen their parents do the same. Be the person you want your child to become. I recommend you read more here. 

As an adult, pay attention to your feelings next time you come across a link to a graphic video or picture of an accident. Do you feel empathy for the accident victims or do you quickly flick past the video/picture? Ability to identify how you feel is an indication that you're still in touch with yourself and still able to feel compassion for others, adjust your behaviour and form emotional connections with others despite the media's influence on your brain.

This means we have to associate ourselves with other people's unpleasant experiences, no matter how uncomfortable they make us feel, because it is the empathetic thing to do. Failure to do so means that we've lost the essence of our humanity, and in which case we will be needing more advanced psychological help.

My Africa - Black Is Beautiful

"Aunty Koko, I want to look like her", my five year old niece uttered one day. "Like who, I asked offhandedly, reluctantly looking up from the book I was buried in to pay attention to her. My gaze followed her eager gesture towards the Telly. She was watching the Cinderella movie. They might not have a full grasp of the core of the Cinderella fairy tale, but most girls her age were fascinated mostly by the Cinderella's ball gown costumes which is the main reason for their Cinderella obsession. Or so I thought. "You like her dress", I asked her assuredly. "Yes, she's fair and fine", she replied.With her innocent view, I presumed that it was the platform to lecture my niece about self esteem once again, so, I bookmarked my book and placed it aside.

Lectures as these weren't new to me. They had come in handy when I had had to convince her that she looked more beautiful without a smudge of lipstick or eyeshadow or that her natural kinky hair suited her better than weave-on or attachment.

However, because I didn't want to put intricate ideas into her light brain, I prodded discreetly, "yes, she's fine and so are you". What followed proved my presumption. "But I' m not fair", she countered.

I tried to explain to her in the simplest way I could the beauty and uniqueness in the diversity of  the physical characteristics of all people. Luckily it didn't take time to convince her.  I have come across people, ladies particularly who share the same sentiments as my little niece, in many cases due to feelings of inadequacy, the need to be validated by the society that has been brainwashed to believe in the supremacy of lighter skin or it is the gratuitous  or oblivious opinion that light skin equates to beauty as was the case with my niece. I believe these notions are the reasons why Dencia's popular and controversial "Whitenicious" sold out within one day that it was launched and also why 77% of Nigerian women have been reported by the World Health Organization to use skin lightening products on a regular basis, despite hazardous effects of mercury and hydroquinon which are the bleaching chemicals used in their production. 

From the study, it is apparent Nigeria women bleach their skin more than their counterparts in Mali, Senegal, South Afrrica and Togo, which I find alarming, depressing and stupid on our side. I mean, it's unfathomable that in the year 2001, an outstanding 18 year old DARK-SKINNED young Nigerian woman dazzled Jerry Springer, judges and 1.2 billion audience worldwide with her intelligence and beauty, ahead of the other 92 contestants and was crowned the most beautiful in the oldest and most popular competition that is an embodiment of beauty and elegance.

Remember her? Abgani Darego?

It is the same way Oluchi Onweagba's charm earned her spots on the runway strutting for Christian Dior, Armani, Chanel, on the  covers of Vogue, Marie Claire, Allure, Elle and numerous other modeling gigs her beauty fetched her.

We have Genevieve Nnaji

Chimamanda Adichie

 Joke Silva

 Kate Henshaw

Onyeka Onwuenu

and a troop of other everyday dark skinned Nigerian women who not only epitomize beauty but intelligence, hard work, elegance, success and virtue.

More recently is the idolization of Lupita Nyong'o for her powerful portrayal of Patsey in the movie, "12 years a Slave", her exquisiteness, gorgeousness and intelligence. I know she's not Nigerian, but pardon my fixation over anything Kenyan, plus you can't convincingly discuss modern black beauty without mentioning her. So, what then is our problem? What is the source of our insecurities and self-hate.

Well, the history of slavery could have led to the skewed perception that because blacks were harshly and intimidatingly subdued to the whims and caprices of the whites, it automatically translates to superiority of their nature over ours, including the colour of their skin. We could also trace this trend back to the colonization era when Western colonizers "favoured" African men and women who had a closer resemblance of whites and so on. It can be inferred therefore that the aftermaths of such prejudices have been passed on to our generation and have played a huge role in influencing our minds. Whatever! I still ask, are we so gullible that we can't reason for ourselves anymore?

I know human level of reasoning and rationalization tend to be influenced either negatively or positively when external events infiltrate the mind. Adam and Eve's temptation and fall in the garden of Eden come to mind. These two clearly understood God's instructions but still managed to fall for empty promises. It all boils down to choice. I mean, if you're old enough to distinguish among the green, red and orange traffic lights, then you're old enough to rectify your skewed thoughts that you're better-off torturing and destroying your melanin. Actually, the conflicting truth is you're worse-off when you consider the health risks associated with bleaching creams.

Apportioning some form of importance to someone's shades of skin is the dumbest and most shallow stereotype, and that clashes with every principle I want my niece to imbibe as a dark-skinned growing girl - respect, kindness, humility, diligence, dignity, honesty, brilliance and so on. Because in the end, she won't be remembered for the colour of her skin, but her accomplishments.
 

I'll leave you to ponder on Lupita's wise words at the Essence's 7th annual Black Women in Hollywood Luncheon, "And so I hope that my presence on your screens and in the magazines may lead you, young girl, on a similar journey. That you will feel the validation of your external beauty and also get to the deeper business of being beautiful inside. There is no shade to that beauty".

No Woman, More Cry

"Look, women working by day and late at night, they sing of bright days that were, a long way back and forth forever"

Her songs are overwhelming, heartrending, ravishing and magical to the point of elevating one right up to level of celestial sphere. Even though I don't understand Irish Gaelic, Latin, French, Spanish Welsh, Sindarin, (the many languages she sings in a lot of times),  her songs are like a dagger that pierces through my soul, unearthing and gorging out every fear and doubt, negativity and hopelessness, turbulence and emptiness. 

In them, my mind is greatly motivated to dare dream as wild as I can. In them, I find the strength to forge ahead and hope when it seems all is lost. In them, I grasp the freedom to generally rise above ordinariness to greatness and perfection. In them, I feel the power of love, and believe in the reality of fairy tales. In them I find the clarification in the puzzles of life.

This is the power of music. This is the power of Enya's ethereal waves and synthesized background pattern of music. She is like no other.

I stumbled across yet another beautiful song titled "Ebudae" by her and as usual, I was mesmerized, and as a result, decided to dedicate it in honour, appreciation and celebration of womanhood.

 

The ever diligent hands that generate and supply

Heart full of undying and unconditional love  and care

The unwavering strength

The smile of hope

The Blessing. The Future

Now, I take a moment to commiserate with women who have been subjected to one societal plight or the other out of acts of inhumanity, ingratitude, egoism and/or low self esteem - the woman who endures the pangs of body altering pregnancy, labour and child-birth, and selflessly stays back home to nurture her family, while her efforts are tagged "common" by a husband who emotionally and physically abuses her day and night, cheats on her recklessly or refuses to cater for her upkeep and the child's, the woman who is unfairly demanded and almost compelled to earn 50% of the family's income and still left alone to perform ALL house chores, the traumatized rape victim who not only have to deal with the aftermath of rape, but also deals with injustice and ridicules from unfeeling individuals who think it's all her fault, the widow who must drink the poisonous bath water that was used to bathe her late husband's corpse and other degrading and dehumanizing "cleansing rituals", the boisterous-undaunted and hardworking woman whose great achievements have earned her death threats out of envy, and so on. You shall never walk alone.

In this awe-inspiring song I found the unquenchable inspiration to applaud and worship the wonder that we are - our greatness and achievements. Regardless of our struggles, we're the most stunning of all God's creation, and our worth surpasses the price-tags on the shoes and clothes we wear, the number of friends or followers we have on Facebook or Instagram or the hair/body products we use. In the eyes of God, we are important and worth dying for.

In the lyrics of Ebudae - "Look, women working by day and late at night, they sing of bright days that were, a long way back and forth forever", I perceive a clarion call to us women:

To support and encourage one another in our challenges

To commend and be happy for each other's achievements

To be a source of strength and motivation in hard times

To cherish and value ourselves, our femininity and our worth

To carry ourselves in  dignity

To dust ourselves up and keep trying

To never settle for less than we deserve

To believe and hold on to our dreams, goals and aspirations

To ignore the liar telling us we CAN'T...............

God bless us all!

My PKS Valentine's Model

Hello, pal! 

I'm very pleased to wish you a happy Valentine's day. Of course, you know I got nothing but mad-pure love for you, and just in case no one has ever told you this and from the bottom of my heart, I think you're an AWESOME individual in all ramifications - smart, beautiful, handsome, unique, etc. Never forget this fact. 

It wasn't any of my intentions to post here today, but I guess I got bitten by Valentine's bug, so bad I forfeited some important stuff I was busy with to join in spreading the love. Aint love beautiful? I think so too. Well, I guess I was smitten by a colleague of mine who brought and shared chocolates and candies among everyone at work. I loved her generous/kind gesture, a gesture that obviously brought smiles to everyone's face, and that to me is what Valentine's day should be about.

Pope Gelasius declared this day, February, 14th as  a day to honor St. Valentine, who was a Christian martyr imprisoned and later executed for defiling the Roman emperor's orders which banned soldiers from getting married by performing weddings for them, an act I'm sure brought smiles to the faces of these soldiers. Yet another tale claims he was executed because of his Christian beliefs and that he healed the daughter of his jailer, Asterius whom before his execution wrote her a farewell letter signed "From Your Valentine." He died because of his love for love.

Therefore today requires you and I to be embodiments of true love which are

1. Patience - No matter how hard, be patient today. Young lady, I get that you're expecting an engagement ring tonight, it's long over due, you reason. Well, I understand your anticipations, but hey, don't pout if he doesn't pop the question today, no pressure. If it's meant to be, he will in due time. And you man, if you haven't put a ring on it, it AINT your right yet, so don't pressurize her, because you want to get laid. 

2. Kindness - That's right. If she's your wife/girlfriend, for once today, be a gentleman. Are you planning to have a romantic dinner at an exotic restaurant today? Pamper her, open the door  and  pull out the chair for her. Write him/her thoughtful poems in Spanish (if you can :D), in Igbo, Yoruba, Greek, whatever. Buy each other presents. That's right girl, buying gifts is not only his responsibility. How about a nice tie for your suit loving husband? Cufflinks, wristwatch, socks or you can cook his favourite meal, whatever. Do what you can and appreciate the other's efforts. "Oh, what the hell am I supposed to do with flowers"? Well, my dear Nigerian sister, pot it and water it..., flowers are beautiful gift of nature from God. a pair of Louboutins/Rolex watch isn't (:D). Appreciate it. It's what it symbolizes that matters. LOVE.

3. Selflessness - Before now, I noticed a lot people (ladies majorly) were more preoccupied with what to receive from their partners, and not necessarily what they will be giving. WRONG!!! It's not your birthday and therefore not only about you. Be concerned about how to make your partner happy as well. It is not just in relation to today's celebration, always seek to give, not receive. Seek for ways to impact on other people's lives as well. It must not be monetarily, your kind/encouraging words, smile, help, genuine attention would go a long way in elevating others. Why not try it? There's nothing as fulfilling as seeing that your effort is the reason someone feels happy and blessed.

And just in case you're single, only you can make yourself happy. It's your job. So, don't WAIT on a man or a woman to do that for you today. Give yourself a treat to the things you love to do, and in anyway you can, give of yourself to others too.

Have a blast the rest of the evening.

Too Lazy To Think of A Beffiting Title

Today, I decided to squeeze out time to post something new here. It's been a while, right? I know it's cliche, but this chick has been really busy - too busy to notice the recent reform in our power sector sef.

I told you about my difficult January, right? So, add stress to the busy year it's been, and I'm sure you'd get an image of a pimple-faced woman on the brink of losing her mind, but still resilient enough to make a blog post, regardless of challenges.

Maybe it's not as serious as I make it sound. I mean, my sister thinks I tend to blow things out of proportion. In fact, I tend to blow things out of proportion. That or it's just a writer's inclination to spice up gists with embellishments. However, that doesn't nullify the existence of a zit on my right cheek. And when zits start rearing their black heads, I know I have unknowingly(most times) bitten more than I could chew.

Well, enough of my zit whine, how have you been? Perhaps, it hasn't been as difficult for you, I hope. Whatever, you and I can look forward to more blessed and stress-free (manageably at least) days ahead. Cheers to a fabulous month of February! *Raises my bottle of Fanta*.

So, back to the power matter. Two days ago, I received an honouring offer to update on a special website run by a genius friend of mine. In his exact words, "we need someone who can adequately represent our goal, not just a reporter, for it (the website that is) goes beyond reporting." Which reminds me, I GOTTA quickly finish up with this post, because I have a poem to write (for the first time ever). LOL!

I know, a little diversion, but I couldn't help but recall a line of similar offers I've been receiving lately. The weirdest of them all from two of my girlfriends, (my sisters from other mothers) who set me up with this poetry competition, and they weren't taking the fact that I had never tried poetry as an excuse. "You never know what is left untapped in there", they argued. Really, what's with these people having faith in me? Can you tell I'm gloating? :D.

I love y'all AWESOME PEOPLE for your supports and belief in me. 

Where was I...? Yes, the offer from my genius friend. Before the offer, he asked what I knew about the power sector. He sounded like there was something worthy happening there that I should know about. Of course, I noticed power supply got a lot worse since the beginning of this year. The maddening constant noise and choking fumes from generators had lingered on in the hot air longer than usual, plus I have had to pay N150 more in every one of my weekly salon visits, in provision of diesel used to power the generator. It's so frequent that at a point, I suspected there had been light the times the generator was left running.

Sometimes, the noise and fume smell became so overwhelming that I fantasized about vanishing to Spain, securing a job as a sports reporter in Barcelona, get to hang out with stars like Alexis Sanchez, Messi and Busquet during interviews, probably become a controversial reporter after I had told Martino he's the most "swagless" coach to walk the face of the earth. Other times I wished I was airborne and infinitely divisible so I could fly about the entire neighbourhood simultaneously, depositing piles of salt into every fuel tank, and wrecking every carburetor/engine until they couldn't be repaired anymore.

Well, because I had eavesdropped on some people sometime last year discussing about the presidential agenda to privatize the power sector albeit uninterestedly/unintentionally coupled with recent deterioration in the supply of power, I quickly concluded these could be the significant factor to my friend's question, so I answered in that line. Afterwards, he proceeded to giving me an eloquent lecture on the current commercial financing and investment in the power sector by private sectors. This urged me to read further about this reformation.

Despite the fact that the almost 150 paged blueprint for the reform process in the power sector ranks as one of the most boring pieces I've ever read (what with all it's graph representations and having to stumble across figures as 40, 000MW more frequent than not) , it was quite educating, and I dare say promising. Yes, I believe the reformation in the power sector will equally yield beneficial results, in the same way reformation in the telecommunication sector did. Like my friend said, we'll all have to be patient.

Knowing what I know now, PHCN will finally rest from my curses every time power comes on and goes off every five minutes.

I understand and will cut them some slack from now on.

You should too, ok?

Relax, burn some more fuel, or candle whenever Koko is in the block. :D

What A Month

The first time I experienced claustrophobia was in a commercial intercity Hummer (also known as Hiace) bus, in the back row. It's barely two months ago.

It was on my way back from work, and the time was about 6:30/to 7pm (ish). It was almost dusk.

Of course I had myself to blame for ignoring a sharp premonition to rather walk a bit farther down to another bus where there was more room to relax in a much better position.  

The bus conductor was partly to be blamed too. Typical of conductors' tenacious nature, (especially when there are more than enough buses to convey the limited number of passengers available), this young man, was all up in my way, barely giving me enough space to breathe, because he wanted  to make sure I got into his bus. So, before I made to wriggle past his advances, he had already yanked my laptop bag off my shoulder as he pleadingly tried to usher me into the bus.

I was helpless.

My target position was close to the window on any of the second, first or third row in that order. Seeing that the window spot of the first and second row were already occupied, my last option was the third row. Not bad, I reasoned. 

However, before I could advance closer to the entrance, a chunky man beat me to it, so that I was left with sitting close to him. My other option was the right window, but before I could recover from my sulkiness and frustration of losing my target, someone else beat me to it. I could also opt for another bus, but because I wasn't equal to the conductor's unyielding and exhausting grit, I reluctantly got aboard, close to the man whose massive body frame blocked my view of nature and man's architecture through the window.

I was barely seated before the bus accelerated, so as to beat other competing buses to the next bus stop, I guessed.

The air in the bus reeked of stale cigarette smoke.  I suspected it originated from the neatly dressed young man directly in front of me, who acted like he was also intoxicated from his slurs of "F@&k! Goodluck should give us a language...." and a host of other disjointed-solo gibberish, followed by short laughter. His utterances was the least of my problems, so I paid him no attention. I couldn't concentrate even if I wanted to.

At that point, unconscious panic set in. I felt crammed in like I was in a sealed box. Beads of sweat broke out. I could hardly breathe. I thought I was gong to pass out. Frantically, I looked to my right, hoping for some light, fresh air or a trail through the window. I needed to break away. Obscurity and  darkness were all I saw instead. I placed my laptop bag to the floor in an attempt to create enough room around me, hurriedly fished for my mouse pad and started fanning myself vigorously. I was sure the chunky man noticed my struggles, because I noticed he reclined and slid the louver backwards in an attempt to maybe let in more air. Unfortunately, that didn't help.

I couldn't bear it anymore, and needed to urgently jump off the bus. Just as I was about to ask the driver to stop, the driver, by way of telepathy brought the bus to a halt. I desperately made to get off the bus, but had to wait for two ladies in the middle row who could only beat me because of the time I wasted having to wade through the two occupants by my right, who were also on the last row as me.

However, instead of alighting as I planned to do, I chose to sit in the more expansive second row the two ladies vacated. It meant I was finally sitting directly close to Mr Language Advocator who then assumed the close-to-the-window spot. By then, he still hadn't stopped rambling or reeking of cigarette, My consolation was that I was much closer to the door, and got more air. 

After I settled in, I heaved a sigh of relief.

The depressing, dull, trying days of this January have been stifling, I have to deal with a whole bunch of issues all at once - the HEAT, a mediocre service (that deserves blogging about) and my missing camera (it's really an expensive camera). The feeling is almost reminiscent of my bus experience - overwhelming, suffocating and distressing.

Thankfully, the month is almost about to run out.

I JUST WANT OUT....

Cristiano Ronaldo Wept

I DON'T LIKE CRISTIANO RONALDO!!!

I had to write this fact in capital letters, so that you understand the intensity of my emotions.

A lot of people attribute my sentiments to jealousy, same way they did in the past when Thierry Henry was the object of my resentment. Other people who know me really well think any one in superiority rivalry with my beloved automatically attracts my dislike.

While these accusations may or may not be true, I can't deny the fact that I was one of Ronaldinho's voltrons, who labelled it a taboo to equate him with Thierry Henry or anyone else. However, I still can't categorically say that was the reason I didn't like Henry. He was plain annoying  and so was my cousin who was teasingly sure that Ronaldinho's favourite movie was "Shaka the Warrior" or any of those other unintelligent movies where the protagonist fought pointlessly with unruly villains who made animalistic noises, and hopped from place to place like monkeys, sharp opposite of elegant and intellectual "The Usual Suspect", Henry's kind of movies. Well, that's my cousin's baseless theory. "Ronaldinho would still kick his a@& anytime", I'd defend.

Looking back now, I have to admit being a Ronaldinho unsolicited representative was one of the most draining nonpaying jobs I've ever had to do my entire life. I'd exhaust myself arguing to the point of coarseness and throatiness. 

And what did all that hullabaloo earn me? A nickname, "Kokodinho". And then there was a particular neighbour who would have sworn that my hairstyles were Ronaldinho inspired, as bizarre as that sounds, even to me.

Oh Ronaldinho! I miss him!

The way his hair and arms flipped as he ran, all uniting to frustrate charging opponents. The three steps backwards after he had positioned the ball on a mark, the assertiveness and abundance in his straddling and akimbo pose, the way his eyes focused in absorbed calculation whenever he wanted to take free kicks/penalties, a style C. Ronaldo adopted but never delivered with the same finesse.

With C. Ronaldo, my dislike is different and identifiable. He is egotistical (the premium reason he doesn't appeal to a lot of people), but then so is Balotelli and that doesn't make me hate Balot. If anything, I'm amused by the Super Mario. If this be the case, then attributing my feelings towards C. Ronaldo to his ego will be flippant.

Cristiano Ronaldo is a hungry lion and driven a lot by his opponent's (in this case Messi) feats. I am an ardent devotee of Spanish La Liga and his vehement efforts to score in replica of/equality with Messi, and the mask of frustration that covers his face when he fails can't be hidden. This is more intense especially when Real Madrid games succeed Barcelona's and Messi scores. He can't hide this trait, and I'm sure he doesn't try to. 

He is competitive and wants to score goals even from the most difficult and outrageous positions, many times singly. I'd be lying to say he hasn't succeeded in most of such situations. His pursuit may have been to attain self prominence, but again, I'd be lying to say his efficiency hasn't favoured his clubs, past and present, and country as well. 

So yes! You can say I dislike him because he's hard working and driven.

Typical of his nature, he took advantage of Messi's absence due to injury and piled up goals for himself, broke records and like a giant stood tall above every other last year. I tipped him to beat the other top two contenders, so it was no surprise when he was announced the winner of the 2013 FIFA Ballon d'Ór.

Having come second to the little man for four times in a row, no one felt the pain of falling short especially after immense hard work more than Ronaldo. I could imagine the air of liberation that might have overwhelmed him so strongly to the point that he sobbed when his name was finally called out. I was sure I saw him mouth the word "finally".

I'm used to his whining and water works theatrics on the field, but for once, there's no denial that the tears that dropped on the floor of the concert hall in Kongresshaus, part on his son's hair were tears of relief and joy. They were genuine tears.

At that moment, for the first time ever, I felt a little surge of love for Cristiano or it was just an admiration for the cute little boy that was on the stage with him.

However, I can't say I was happy he won, because that'd be blatant dishonesty, and considering I had planned to revel had Ribery won. A whole part of me still wish that happened.

Regardless, I say good for him and his fans.

My Africa

Happy Wednesday : D

Before I delve into the topic of the day, I wish to make an announcement... One of the prevailing feedback/criticisms that I have received so far about this blog is the tasking technicalities of the comment section, as majority of the complainants indicated that most times, they are too impatient to go through the "type in the code...to prove you're not a robot". verification processes. Well, since I'm equally irritated as well and as a matter of urgency, I sought to remove the authentication protocol (oblivious of the repercussions though), and succeeded. Yes! I have consciously permitted robots to also read and comment on my blog. What is good for the goose is also good for the gander.

Okay, back to the topic!

Some time ago, I watched an astonishing video exposé that also had me feeling somewhat infuriated. Unfortunately, I couldn't recall the specific source of that ridiculous video. I wasn't successful googling anything close to it neither. otherwise I bet it would have made for an impressive watch for you too.

The video was a sampling of some American college students on their general knowledge of Africa. The questions bordered mainly on identifying countries in Africa and the typical characteristics of Africa and Africans. With no intention to be hyperbolic here, not one of them could name more than two countries. A greater number of them named only Libya, while the rest, amidst giggles and shrugs of nonchalance, declared they didn't know. Apart from Libya (due to the notable revolution in the country then, I guess), South Africa, Egypt, Nigeria and Djibouti, no other country, of all the other remaining 52 was mentioned.

And what did they have to say when they were asked about their impressions about Africa? Third world, disease-ridden and poverty stricken. I remember one of them (a lot more well-informed than the others) rightly described the colourful culture alluding specifically to Africans' colourful mode of  dressing.

Like I have effectively emphasized already, I was upset, but not beyond reasoning that by way of post colonial power relations and the enduring influence of negative stereotypes, (most of which is manifested on the distorted and inbalanced image of Africa portrayed on the western media), these students may have been influenced.

The reason for these negative reportage about Africa is not far-fetched as it is deeply rooted in supercilious need of the western world to feel overly superior and the popular definition of news as the negative. Oddity as well. The more negative and odd the news, the more lucrative.

So it's like, dig for more of those mind-blowing poverty induced child labour stories similar to the Kenyan Boku, an eight year old boy who become the breadwinner of his family after his father died and his mother fell sick after she lost her shop to an inferno or graphic pictures of naked Mamma Sassey who died during childbirth, more images of hunger and disease stricken naked children in slums swarmed around by flies, a land of barrenness devoid of lushness and healthiness, pictures of crises and war, corruption, greed and the ostentatiousness of Africa's leaders and elites, just about any of such stories that are mostly the perverse opposite of the western world.

And in all these accounts, on the other side of the coin is the real Africa, the Africa they never show us because it is submerged beneath these negativism.

It was her first visit to Nigeria and Africa generally, so I had to guide Edith (a Mexican) to various places in the first days, until she became familiar with her new environment and could cope independently.

I taught her myriads of local slangs (from Igbo to Pigin) she was likely going to hear everyday and the need to commit such words/phrases as 'change' (money wise), 'how far', 'no wahala', 'onye-ocha', 'onyibo' to her memory. The speed she assimilated them still amazes me, and now she jokes about being full blooded Nigerian. That's by the way.

On our first visit to a shopping mall, at the cash register, while she tried to extract some money to pay her bill, she held unto her wad of Naira notes so tightly and close to her chest in a probable attempt to shield her money from hawk-eyed crooks that were likely lurking about in wait for loose fisted Mexican. Because she later asked me to explain some geographical facts about Nigeria she sourced from the internet, I concluded her money clutching could have stemmed from information she could have also obtained from research about Nigeria before she embarked on her journey..

It was an opportunity to promote the real Africa.

Jovial, warm and welcoming are the nature of the majority of the people you will meet, I told her.

Already, she's living it: the shop attendants that always ask if she needs her moi-moi/meat-pie/cake warmed in the microwave (a privilege that had existed to my oblivion because no one cared if I ate my moi-moi frozen even. I was never asked), the Ogene cultural troupe that chanted specially composed tunes and struck the local ogene (gongs) as they twirled around Edith, who coyly covered her mouth with her hands, unaware of the appropriate dance step to adopt. And so on. "Everyone is so nice", she hasn't stopped eulogizing. This is the real Africa they never show.

The typical and extraordinary twist to the Big Brother Africa reality show in season one required that as a reward for passing a cocktail-making challenge, Gaetano trades places with the Big Brother UK housemate in season four. Scott Cameron. Gaetano relocated to Big Brother house in Hertfordshire, England while Cameron moved to South Africa. Cameron was smitten by Africa's  warmness and was reluctant to leave when it was finally time up. This is the Africa they never show.

In the street of Berlin, Sierra Leonian Bassey's Ankara-made pants were the centre of admiration among Germans. In Bassey's words," rocking my Ankara pants in Berlin and white folks go like...I luv your pants". Again and unfortunately, this is the Africa they never show.

Regardless, this is my Africa. The continent of warm sunshine, high mountains, tropical jungle and lush grassland of diverse peoples, diverse languages, diverse cultural identities. It is my home, and home to Nelson Mandela, home to Haile Selassie, home to Kenneth Kaunda, home to Nnamdi Azikiwe, home to Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka, home to Miriam Makeba, home to Joke Silva, home to Jay Jay Okocha, home to Tuface and Prezzo.

PROUD!

New Year's Resolutions

If you're reading this post, then you made it to the year 2014 with me. Yay!!! I bless God who made it possible.

As this is my first blog post of the year, I'd love to first of all wish you a Happy New Year. I hope you have a marvelous 2014. Take it from me, everything you require to accomplish and manifest your dreams and desires are already inherent in you. Tap into these potentials and make them happen. Good luck and cheers to a year overflowing with success, love, happiness and (insert benefits).

Okay!

This morning, I stumbled across a Facebook post by one my mentors that inquired thus, "what's the first thing you are going to do for YOURSELF to improve your life in 2014"? This question propelled me to some brainstorming, and to my greatest mortification, I realized the major obstruction that has prevented me from being as productive as I should have is the Solitaire card game on my computer.  As stupid as this may come off, I've lost counts the number of times I've taken undeserving breaks to "cool off" or postponed finishing a report/article/letter until I have had five straight streaks. No, Solitaire has to go! Seriously! That's number one.

Read more

It's a habit that I've gradually started to imbibe few years back, but intend to intensify this year. Reading! As a child, my father strongly instilled the reading culture among all his children. Somehow, either by way of indifference or just sheer lethargy, that habit eluded me. He never really tried to shove it down anyone's throat, but in case any of us needed to visit a friend or run errands with neighbours, we were always likely to hear, "I bought all those Childcrafts and novels for all of you, pick up one and read like I am doing, you're not going anywhere". Need I say the futility of arguing with a voracious reading father preaching about reading books? Many times, we'd oblige, quite openly where he'd notice and likely reward us with a pass, even though very rarely.

Speaking for myself now, I understand his purpose, because being the biggest bank of knowledge I've ever known, my father's intention wasn't necessarily to nurture me into the home-lifer that I have ended up being (not complaining though, as long as I have my family, Al-Jazeera/Super Sports, ipad, phone and chewing gum), but to raise intellectually powerful individuals like (or more than) him.

Well, I intend to impact similar culture on my kids, more stringently and exemplarily. I'm sure if that has to be possible and effective, reading has to be a habit, plus it will also transform me into the great writer that I aspire to be.

Around the Bible in one year

It is true that a deep knowledge of oneself comes with a deep knowledge of God, and a deep knowledge of God comes with a deep knowledge of self. The word of God is God. What are the books of Nahum and Haggai about? Honestly, I do not have the slightest inkling.  It is the year to know.

Be more outdoorsy/in touch with friends and relatives

I know I said that I wasn't complaining about being a home-lifer earlier, but that didn't mean my stupid hobby/gadgets meant more to me more than my relatives and friends. As much as I love them, none of Frank Lampard, Messi or Dawson knows or cares about who the hell I am. People that do deserve my attention via calls, text messages and visits at least.

Keep my bar raised

I deserve more respect, more politeness, more kindness, more happiness, more love and refuse to settle for less.

Be more

A portion of the Bible I read this morning, Luke 6:37 said, ".....for the measure you give is the measure you receive back". Life is like a mirror, you smile, you get a smile back. People are more likely to react to me the same way I act towards them. Common sense! Therefore, if I want more respect and kindness, I've got to be more respectful and kind to others. It's that simple.

Being more also entails dedicating myself to be more aware of the less-privileged/needy, be a source

of inspiration to others through my behaviours and write-ups.

*With fingers crossed and eyes lifted up* So help me God!

Now, I understand, as human beings, our tendencies to detract from our code of conducts. If you do, instead of feeling ashamed or an urge to throw in the towel entirely, recommit yourself and pick up from where you detracted from, and hope for the best 2014.

All the best!

I'd be more than delighted to read your own New Year Resolutions as well in the comment section below. : D

Merry Christmas

Pertaining to this blog, I set a personal target to churn out at least 10 posts for this December at a time it seemed my brain was overdosed with myriads of  relishable topics. So far, I have downrightly failed to bring this wish to fruition and I have already ran out of time.

I can't believe it's almost 25th December.

In fact, this year went by so fast that I realized it wasn't just enough to achieve all the activities that I had planned out to embark upon or as a matter of fact come close; driving classes, French tutorials, Golf lessons, culinary lessons, my one week-a-book plan and numerous other maps of goals I don't want to bore you with. However, there will come a day each of them would be topic of subsequent blog posts.

Regardless, it's been a truly remarkable and eventful year. I experienced a lot, the good and the not so good, which all combined to make me a happier, wiser, smarter and better person in toto.

At this juncture, I'd like to specially thank you for each click on the Koko Hill link. I feel sooooo elated knowing that for every single post published, I have audience. I appreciate that immensely.

Whether you're traveling to see family and friends or wallowing in the solitary confinement like I would be doing, I wish you a safe and fabulous holiday season.

Kisses, Hugs, Merry Christmas!!!!

No, It's Not a Curse To Be Single

  To the unmarried and the widows I say that it is well for them to remain single as I do"- 1 Corinthians 7:8

What is wrong with you? Are you possessed? Is it fear of commitment?

If you're a single woman and within the "marriageable age" (supposedly between the ages of 25 and 40), you've probably been hassled with the above questions either by family members/friends/neighbours. Perhaps you've encountered the "kind" ones who are ever generous with their sympathetic/encouraging words of "oh, don't worry, there's someone out there for you, keep praying" or the meddler who suggests exorcism as you may be possessed by some spiritual husband (rolls eyes), and just in case it's that difficult for you to find someone, there's the benevolent matchmaker who tries to hookup you up with every tom, harry and dick.

Undoubtedly, there is palpable societal prejudices/pressures/expectations on single women to get married or be in a relationship (at least) at a certain point in time, otherwise be labelled as "not okay".

A new study (in the US) reviews the societal and familial challenges single women face when they reach their mid-30s, and the researchers found out that although the number of single women has increased, the stigma associated with being single at that age has not diminished. Regardless of the difference in the cultural and geographical nature of the study, the issue is also applicable to the ordeals of the single woman in our world.

The list is endless; there is the low self-esteemed man on Facebook who tries to deride your standards in some sorry list that basically urges you to compromise on your standards and settle for less, there's the monkey on your Blackberry contact who banters incessantly about how many more Saturdays left before 2013 runs out, and so forth.

And so, many of us start believing that something is actually wrong with us because we're still not married at a certain age, and as a result, we start accepting and internalizing other people's issues, thereby compromising on our own standards in the process in other to meet the expectations of others.

And what happens?

"I don't have a choice, I'll manage", "Quitting and going back to being single now that he has finally (after series of depreciating herself probably ) agreed to fix a date is not an option", were some of the unending cogitations of a friend of mine who is in an abusive relationship, and yet some people think single ladies need exorcism. Misplaced priorities if you ask me. I told her it's not okay to be in an unhealthy relationship just to evade being lonely or single. She retorted with, "you will not understand". I was flabbergasted and at the same time felt a strong urge to thump her head. Yes! Like my friend, a lot of us lose faith in God and start settling for less than we deserve. Some get into abusive/traumatizing relationships/marriages, while some would rather remain in unproductive/futile relationship because they are scared of loneliness and wouldn't want to be branded single and searching.

Well, to you single woman who's already started to feel there's something wrong with her, snap out of it, because there is nothing wrong with you. IT IS NOT A CURSE TO BE SINGLE (yes, I'm yelling, if that is the way to get it registered in your head)!!! And to the unperturbed sister who has chosen that she wants to settle down and not settle in spite of societal expectancies, the confident woman who feels the person in the mirror deserves the best, or the lady who believes she doesn't have to boost or validate herself by being with just any man, I applaud you.

As a single woman, don't yield to the demands of others, the desire to be cured of your spinsterhood (it's not a disease) or the quest to join the clique of your married friends  to pair off with a random man. In the words of Susan Pease, "the world doesn't need more married people, the world needs more happy people".

Evident in this wise adage is the reality that relationships is not a guarantee to contentment or bliss. At the risk of appearing judgmental (which is absolutely not the case), it is a fact that many married people are lonely and unhappy, yet we are not barraged with write-ups about how they should work on getting divorced.

While you pray and wait on God to order your steps to the right person, embrace your singleness, and love every morsel of your status.

What else can we do?

We can focus on discovering ourselves and what we're about. There's no other time that provides us the opportunity to learn about who we are, our likes and dislikes, values, what makes us happy, our life expectations, some aspects of our lives we consider uncompromisable, as doing so guarantees that we don't lose ourselves in relationships.

We can enjoy our freedom while it lasts, freedom from family and marital obligations, a la financial responsibilities, safety, personal and academical future of another person. Buy whatever you want to buy (so far you don't get in debt), eat what you want to (so far it's healthy), travel and live the way that interests you (here's also hoping your way is safe and right : D ). I know it sounds narcissistic, but think about it objectively. There's no better time to be selfish than when you're single.

We can dedicate our time to serve God and mankind, as advocated by St Paul to the Corinthians like I quoted above all. Having lived that life himself, Paul realized that being single availed him more time to pray and serve God through service (in addition to preaching the word) to fellow Christians. This is where we sacrifice our unrestricted time to offer community/charitable/philanthropic services to help better other people's lives.

The list continues.... Tap into your own self and discover all the potentials that you can utilize while single. Be happy because being single is a good thing.

:-D