The Yola Bwari Switch

It is complementary hearing all the congratulatory messages. I wonder what kind of messages I would get when the excellent grades are reeled out. Scary as it is people never celebrated my finishing year 4 in the University. I remember finishing WAEC and walking back home without even one “Congratulation”. It has made me realize that it is true when they say the higher you go, the higher the pressure. So I sat in my brown and cream rugged apartment that night after the events of a yearlong legal immersion wondering if I had done ALL I was meant to do in Bwari.

I made a long mental list of friends and acquaintances, material acquisitions, spiritual services, but not so much memorable pleasures and I had the great relief sigh. I remember my last post before law school began. It was on my Yola Crisis and all the fears, thoughts and uncertainties raised. I could have gone there to touch more lives and had more memorable experiences. But then again, the other items on the list sure outweigh pleasures and that my dears was the sweetest part of the cookey.

Resolves, restraints and recues, I lived in Bwari with grace. Never visited Lovitos, slept in Elim once, never went to Kuchiko, Sundays at HOTR the Refuge were BLASTS for me, CLASFON was home and super duper great friends I won’t mention before the others I exclude would petition Google to close this my small space. You know I love lessons and so the Yola-Bwari Switch thought me one too deep never to throw away. It was that at all times, you always need a relationship to get to the point you want to. You can’t have everything but you can have everyone. A snap, a call, a visit or even a mere check up with that PING!!! Might just be all you need to move to that next rung of the ladder called life.

Call it what you like: friendship, acquaintance, love, intimacy, family, boo-ship or bae-ship, whatever, we are all flesh, blood and bones acting and reacting to the waves, situations and circumstances of the earth. So whether you hate or love, keep that someone around you. Whether you like or not, show someone care when you can and have to. Whether it is true or false, attempt to say hello and if that is all that comes take a walk. But never spend a day or a decade alone coz you will stink dirtier than the BOOZE from the gutter. SELAH!!!

Meshack’s Drones (2): Inter-Social Skills

I remember when I prepared my first CV ever. I was going to get a job as a French tutor in some relatively big boys secondary school near my house in Ejigbo, Lagos state. Amidst the litany of certificates I had rained the two paged CV with, I added a column that had the title “skills”. I carefully filled in “I-n-t-e-r-p-e-r-s-o-n-a-l skill”. Yes, it was faster to write the skill because I was practically trying to understand the meaning of the word. I checked it up and I think it meant something in the line of eerrrr a skill that involves relationships between people.

But I was wrong and I rightly misrepresented. As much as people liked me and I liked people I was quite the shy type. I would run away from everything called gatherings and public speaking; I would rehearse speeches and gestures when I had to talk to that fine girl down the street that attended the university I wanted to go to. Yeah well I had not used a phone more than a year before then. I liked calls and did very well texting. So maybe I had a correct notion though. I had a funny Facebook account that had a couple of friends. Oh the wonders I did with that account. I stalked, I deleted annoying friends and I searched for the old friends I had crushes on. Yeah I had a lot of crushes coz my shy-personal-skills didn’t make me talk when I had to.

Years went by, and I got my blackberry. Wow… that thing was a life saver. It helped me cut down on my calls drastically and there were months I would go without instituting a single call but I was in contact with my world. By my first four months I had a contact list of about 100 happy chatterers. There were several classifications: from Friends, to Classmates, to Oldies and even Randoms. Don’t ask me which you were. As time went on, my charter-tele (not clientele) had increased so much I had to cut it down. Facebook was booming and I also decided after some persuasion by fellow charterers to extend my charming presence to the Tweeting world. Sooner than I thought I caught a hold on the vocabulary and tricks.

I had moved from physical shyness to finding a point of expression. Where I could say every-and- anything I wanted to say every time I needed to. I could persuade, dissuade and close any deal online. I could quarrel, love, get angry, happy and even hangout online. I had built up the inter-social skill and it was robust and I could go on with it for so long. But I wonder just how it will look like on my CV. But who cares…..

Meshack’s Drones (1): Starting new things

I am thinking I should start by giving a disclaimer of bore or irrelevance but I shouldn’t, I want you glued here so let’s just skip all the introduction and start. Being the first on this platform, I should say what it is about. I rant, and read rants a lot and so these rants might come more than once in a day. Sometimes I might be in trouble and not rant, but just know that I am cooking up something good for your reading pleasure, thinking faculties and action motivation. These drones would be about just any and everything that applies to everyday youthful living. You might catch some insights, revelations, advice or even rebuke with some of them. Feel free to comment on any of them whenever and feel compelled to share them too if they reveal mysteries to you (lol).

Starting new things could pump so much excitement in you at the mere thought like your first day at college. It could also be as scary as the moment where you are to defend your final year thesis in front of an external panel of experts. It could be interesting and catchy like the Caitlyn Jenner haze. I definitely would agree if the new experience would instill much expectation like the APC’s take over of the political system in Nigeria with so many uncertainties. Whether it is adrenaline pumping, scare, interest, or the hesitation you feel, it shouldn’t also be kept “unstarted”.

Top in the news today is the inauguration of Nigeria’s 8^th Senate. That is a new thing in the country. It behooves on us Nigerians now to accept it, frustrate it or enjoy the several shoots from the various party chiefs.

The usual comparison between most African countries is with the United States of America. The 8^th Congress of the USA in the early 1800s was a great one. Major deals, impeachment, election and legislations were made within the period and I really hope our hopes and expectations would not be dashed by this 8^th senate. As much as they portend to make laws for the peace and good governance of Nigeria, it is also a time to see coherence and collaboration with the executive and show the people the taste of what “good governance” is. Nigerians should not go sleeping though. Let us put on our thinking caps, evaluate every single move and think of the consequences before commenting or dragging it to the mud in frustration all in the name of constructive criticisms. Who am I to give all these advice though? I’m just another Nigerian with a little tinkle of gleaming hopes for the better future we collectively desire.

Action Point: Read the news, think, research on new things, dispel your fears and start!!!

You Will Succeed!!!

#ReduceFuelPrice!!!!

As a growing child, some inventions fascinated me and the conglomerate of children on the street would set targets for our parents to have some of these inventions. They were the yardsticks for parental success and worth. First was the colored television. Whoever got it first opened an evening cinema and it didn’t take long for such person to mount prayers of success for the next person in order to decongest the crowd in his home. Next was the telephone and SIM card. I still don’t know the meaning of SIM but I know it was the small chip that made the parents partake in the concept of General Street Madness. Some of my childhood friends’ parents couldn’t afford it till we moved from that area. I am sure they would have gotten it now, it is a lot cheaper these days and the madness has stopped. The generator was just the cap of it all. Buying the one called i-pass-my-neighbor just increased your status, shuts the other house up and pollutes the vicinity with noise. But who could care, as the globes in the house shone with power and the appliances would come on, as the generator made more noise. In the new area we moved to, we all had generators so the size, capacity and length of hours it was left on, was the yardstick.

These inventions seemed like national progress on the totality. Of course more media houses sprouted; there is now interconnectivity, Nigeria joined the global village; every house has become a small electricity generating plant, whatever the government like they can do with their confused power generating strategies. The one that baffles, annoys or confuses me the most is the issue of fuel pump price. I won’t particularly say the cars were part of the yardstick, we all were pretty much not too bothered about jumping commercial buses, and after all where were we going? But the generators had to be fuelled and that is where and how I started getting used to the prices. But it is not knowing the price that forms the bane of this complaint today oh. It is the fact that the Nigerian populace has entered some kind of tolerance cum complacence that is the most insensible thing that ever happened to us as a people.

Yesterday, four days ago and even last two weeks I bought a litre of Petroleum Motor Spirit *PMS* for 250, 180 and 150 naira respectively. Two weeks after the “hoarding” began, 10 litres for the generator has become 2500. The ridiculous price is not surprising. There is no time to recount the ludicrous story behind the high prices and hoarding of the most essential product in the country. What I am angry about is that Nigerians have kept quiet. Nigerians have queued every other day at the stations. Nigerians have paid the higher amount to buy the fuel. Nigerians have paid higher transport fares to travel interstate and commute shorter distances. These same Nigerians who clamored for change and did the needful at the polls are the ones who have become this complacent to the rubbish.

Image from: breakingtimes.com 

In 1999 a litre of fuel was 20 naira. Yes 20 naira that would barely buy you Biscuits now. Today it is sold for 250 naira – this means I would have to forfeit eating Gala and La Casera, my traffic buddies, if I have to buy one litre. The thought of that should make me walk to Aso Rock and just burn it. Annoyingly the people in government don’t have to buy the fuel. They receive it from the so called marketers. The rich always have friends who run and own fuel stations and at one call, kegs pass from the tanker to their houses. In Lagos where I live, yes, it is true, only drivers go to the queues. After all, the boss has got work to do. I remember January 2012 when there was that ridiculous announcement on television from the presidency of the Subsidy scam. Nigerians occupied the nation. Walks, protests, standstill of the economy were the result of that act of the government. I remember the NLC strikes and the several close door meetings as our representatives forced the government to change fuel prices.

May 2015, the Nigerian populace has lost its power. We have lost our voice. We have lost our sanity. We would rather tolerate it all and just move on and wait on a date for things to change; like it is the date that brings about the change. Is it just me? Or has there been a movement begun against the insane queues to buy fuel and the funny prices the stations place on the product? For me, I would not buy fuel for any price above 100 naira again. Never! A litre of fuel cannot all of a sudden be equated with foreign currency. Whether it is the independent marketers causing it or it’s the government not doing the needful, there is meant to be a regulator. #ReduceFuelPrice is the new tag I am beginning because it is annoying. We have failed ourselves for letting this linger for this long and I won’t be surprise if this is ignored.

Long Live the Federal Republic of Nigeria. 

In my Anger

I would skip the courtesy of the salutation culture we have in this part of the world. Maybe it is as a result of the fact that the discrepancies we see in our side of the world is deafening to the sanity of trying to be on the chart of globalization. One of the most annoying ones is the oxymoron of abundant scarcity of resources, love and appropriateness. No! I am just angry at that discrepancy ... but forgive my manners... that's courteous enough.

This is about my country and I am most passionate to write about it. In fact I am one of those patriotic Nigerians who believe so much in the good the country has to offer to itself and its people. I formed this opinion as a young person to whom little was given from abundant system. But growing up I learnt that it is more blessed to give than to receive; also I learnt that two wrongs don't make a right and now I am learning that you don't pay evil for evil. The truth in that triangle cannot be doubted but can surely be extinguished. Especially when you have given your all and there really isn't anything left to give and nothing to receive. 

I started a campaign sometime ago, although very discrete and private. It was for a cleaner Nigeria. I would get into buses and lovingly rebuke persons who trashed their traffic-belly-buddies: beef rolls *gala* and the ever chilled carbonated drink *la casera* on the beautiful highways of Lagos. I would tell friends about the campaign, tweet and Broadcast about it. I got insults and advice but it didn't stop me. That is just 0.01 percent of the serious work some other nation builders are trying to contribute both individually and corporately. Yet we have a leadership and some other persons who by active and passive practice are determined to run down this nation. The reason for which I have tried to imagine to no avail. 

The recent queues on the street that seem like the usual evening traffic begin sometimes from 5:30 am; the polity is going hay-wire with cross carpeting, reshuffles, threats of law suits against the just concluded elections; the economy in a very booming but uncertain state; education has been neglected on the account of other things to which the country has devoted its time to; the judiciary is rocking in its abysmal state of corruption and ineptitude; tourism, never existed and been suppressed to its barest minimum; entertainment is basking in its forever mediocre status; and even religion that should have been an anchor as in the ancient times has become the hypocrites' creed. 

It annoys me that there is more politics than love in every press statement, news headline, community development project and even corporate social responsibility. By love, I do not mean that unnecessary mushiness between two or more romantics that motivates the extraordinary. No! I mean a drive and commitment towards good, harmony, unity and progress. I mean that concept that crystallizes in the hearts of men that gives them a sense of fulfillment and a motivation for greatness, all because the other smiled and felt good by that one action. 

I won't give any of those motivational write ups that would spur you to want to act and after two letters or actions here and there, you loose the appetite for change and flow in the tide. I would not give any of those thoughtful ones either. Those ones that make you start thinking about what, how and when to do anything for the progress I talk about. No... I would just stop here because I have relayed my anger to you and I think that's all I intended. 

Haze of a New Year

Maybe I am just a weirdo, or maybe there is actually nothing that adds to a human being with each passing year than the increase of responsibility and the need to be on top of a game you never signed up for. But that is how I choose to see it at this point in time. 2015 in all its brokenness has seen me gracing celebrations from one resto to the other house and its brought on me the dawn of my own celebration.

Amidst the gifts, the love and the craze of shouts, obvious beef-filled prayers and heart felt desires from some quarters, I love the feel of birthdays. Being a Gemini makes it all fun, because as much as it is interesting with the shouts, I kind of enjoy the quiet on my bed and thank God telecommunication facilitates the unreality of it all.

Lets see, the only gifts I have received on all my 23 birthdays have been a bible and what???  Yeah some trip to Olumo rock by lovely friends who prayed with me and we had fun together… God bless you guys. Oh yeah and there is that feeling of greatness when you find a sweet birthday mate that is fine and fun. I think I have only met the latter for a long time fun but not fine. Lol. Well until today. Its an indication 2015 is indeed my year of promotion right?

Just in case you are in town and need to attend my birthday, it promises to be big only if you attend with your gift and your bottle of drink to gain access into the party!!!

#LetsCelebrate

I am Back and Better!!!

Every man has his flaws. Standing on the floor alone is able to bring out the fury out of the furry that clothes a man's character. That is what the social world represents for me: a robe of thievery, robbing me of the last iota of sanity, interpersonal relationships and reality. But they say, a man can’t stop the birds from flying over his head but he can stop it from making a nest on his head. Put differently a man can’t exist without flaws but he can definitely control the effect of these flaws on him. All of these grammatical constructions about men would have been useful for my TOEFL challenge but really, this fuss is about my return to the Social medium: Blackberry Messenger.

Let’s back track to June 2013 when I got my first BlackBerry. My soul blessed RIM Ltd for the wonder of the future savings they would make for me. Lost within the dilemma of the flip side of the whooping sum of some tens of thousands I had spent to buy this black fancy device: the better part of some bounty I won at a speech event. Of course, I had my first contacts and first pings, and all those things. With all ignorance, I ignored the reality of the settings. Thanks to friends who taught me how to reset the network and the red light began to blink. I was soon to run into trouble waters of the heart with my first display picture who was not my first. The next trouble was my soon to become addiction to the pings and contacts.

The mélange of academics and pings went well as it served as a sweet goto when I needed to get pseudo-connections and interactions that seemed proximate and more interesting than Candy Crush. Then like the lure of the tigress to its prey, the dangers of the social world plunged gently into depth of my hypothalamus and involuntary actions began to rule the normal state of affairs. I fell, I smiled, I played, I was drawn and I ran away; far away as the addiction followed me through. Some contacts were notorious, I just had to go on a particular line of thoughts when the red lights of their reach came through. Its funny how I didn’t have to wait for the green light with them: Red was sufficient.

By December 2014 barely 18months after, I had done, undone, redone and become something I was not at the beginning of the count. Of course I didn’t expect to be the same person in a long time. But I had broken all ties with morals and realities that I just could not but carry out an exorcism. The exorcism witnessed the removal of close to eight megabytes of space on my memory card. To think 8 megabytes could do so much damage to my 282-month old life. CHICK!!!

Out I took it. Painful like every other exorcism exercise, I lost contacts and I was determined to be alive and well and out of the addiction. Two months of restoration. I made sure the demon was out. Apart from the changing of statuses, the love for constant display monitoring, the passion of the red light and misconception for the green, I found peace, I found reality, I found discipline and of course after the exorcism, I am back. The red demon brought with it some currencies that I want without the demon. I am sure its out, and I got myself back. Okezi Meshack has gone through some phases and I am sure he went through this for a reason. You ever want to get past an addiction to lights, the Ready Writer is the one to meet. Yeah I am back here too… The Law school gist would come soon>>>> Ciao!!!!