Wednesday, 18 January 2012


So the strike is over and gone with it is the forced house arrest. Work ought to have resumed yesterday, but I’m adding this week to the aborted strike action. It’s not as if I actually do anything meaningful at my place of primary assignment in the first instance, so I reasoned; why bother go when I could as well sit all day at home and save me about a thousand bucks.
The real gist is about one of my roommate. He is back and now I am really missing all the silence I ‘enjoyed’ throughout the entire strike period, though it seemed like I was strolling through hell then, even feeling I was gradually losing my sanity to seclusion. I regretted the isolation then, but right now I wish it would continue. He is back and so is all his girl drama and repeated stories of past broken relationships and failed romance. Don’t get me wrong, I like my roommate a lot, he’s a cool guy but at times he drives me crazy with his girl issues, not caring if I am interested in them or not.
Imagine! He traveled to Lagos for the strike on the saturday preceding the strike monday a single guy, but he’s back now with a new girlfriend. Now I have to go through the torture of listening to him rant about his first date and their first kiss, mtcheeeew (beef! I know you would say, lol). Anyway I have already cleared him that this relationship would also cast just like the others. Not everyone must go through the National Youth Service Scheme in a relationship!
So much for all the protests that went down in the now more famous Gani Park, Ojota, Lagos state, even though my kins men in Edo state decided to steal cows and murder helpless Hausa men. Benin people must always show themselves. My main concern is the Lagos protest because my roommate actually brought my attention to it with his 2go update ‘strike is good o, having so much fun at Gani Park, Ojota’.
First impression I had when I saw some of the protest pictures on twitter and facebook was; most people there were just out to keep away boredom and have fun, while the ‘badt’ guys were there to catch fishes and the smart girls ready to sell their market. Of course, my roommate was among the ‘badt’ guys. I kept hearing about how the crowd grooved and danced to the beats of various songs rendered by popular ace musicians and shouting when distinguished Nigerians made great pronouncement against the infamous fuel subsidy removal.
Like a friend tweeted ‘did the organizers of the Lagos protest educate the crowd about its purpose? Because I can tell most of them are ignorant’. Then again on the bright side, irrespective of their various individual reasons/purposes for joining the protest, their presence gave a good crowd number helping to establish the stand held by many Nigerians on the subsidy issue.
Back to the other side f the protest, I remember seeing pictures of people sharing food and drinks on the protest ground, some even taking out time to snap funky pictures, smiling and obviously getting lost in the fun…another friend also tweeted ‘I don’t think a fun protest like this was the kind Martin Luther king led
Trust Nigerians to bring out the fun in every bad situation. So many subsidy jokes, forged quotes attributed to distinguished Nigerians and phony photos flooded the internet throughout the strike period.
Right now, just one of my roommates is back and I’m already complaining, even writing a note about how much I miss the solitude. I wonder what would happen when my second roommate, who is the chief noise maker arrives. I’d probably end up writing a book!
To prove I’m not exaggerating, a friend in our office who hasn’t been to our place but judging by his behavior once said he should please continue travelling to Lagos for the weekends despite the fuel price increment because his absence means a lot to us…

Tuesday, 17 January 2012


Here alone I lay on my bed, sad and blue. My joints hurt from the days work. Once again, I am here in my room. My roommate is fast asleep. I’m surrounded by these walls, walls that seem to be closing in on me. The room seems so small but yet feels very large. Deep in loneliness, I stare into space longing for your company. Wishing I could just talk to you and lay bare all my fears and sorrows. I wish I could open up my heart to you this moment not caring if I seem weak or less manly, because right now all I need is a listening ear and a warm embrace. And if it helps to make me feel better, a shoulder to cry on. But you are not here.

A lover or a best friend I really don’t know how to classify you, but I know exactly what I want you to be. So I hold my pillow tight, shutting my eyes, wishing the shadow could wash away my fears and sorrow. Wishing my loneliness would pour out in the flow of cold tears. I’d love to cry on your shoulder till my loneliness is all gone; holding on to you each second but all I have is this perfect image of you in my mind. I need you so much but you exist only in my head.

Normally I am strong, but this moment I am weak and you are not here. So I choose the next best thing, which is writing because I have to let it all out. To express exactly how I feel else I implode. I need a friend but all I really want is you. Tonight, sleep seems to elude me. A dark mist of thoughts clouding my mind. I haven’t met you but I miss you so much. I wish you were right here but here I am missing you terribly. Someday I know we shall meet and we shall be the perfect team, sharing our lives together; not ashamed to tell each other the truth no matter how painful or embarrassing it might be. All that will matter is us carrying each other in our hearts, knowing each other in and out. No shame, no mockery and no judging between us. Accepting all we are and appreciating each moment we have. Not letting a single moment pass because each means so much.

But these are all in my thoughts for now. This moment I live is painful and lonely. I need you here to look into my soul and see my hurt exactly as it is. I want to bare my sore heart to you, let you in, know you, feel you and know I am not alone. Above all, let you feel exactly the same way you make me feel; secure, loved and appreciated.

They say I am lucky, that I have it all, but they don’t know that all is you…

So I drop my pen in sadness, fading into the silent darkness of the night waiting for sleep to take me away from this hurt, hoping I’d see you in my dreams...


They keep saying ‘you are not the one going through the worst situation’. Who then is? I ask if that’s told to every single soul on earth. I want to know who is going through the worst situation, not like I really want to know.

I’m hurting and my situation is peculiar to me. So allow me to hurt and cry for a while because I have it at the back of my mind that soon it will be all over and I’ll definitely have to move on. Things would get better because time always heals. There’s a time to cry and this is the time.

So leave me and let me drown in my sorrow for a little while, that I may appreciate dearly, my joys of tomorrow, being grateful for every second of any bit of happiness I feel. For I could never know how blessed and how much of a gift it is to be happy no matter how short lived if I have never known pain or sorrow.

Allow me exercise my totality of human existence and feel every emotion God has placed in me. I need to explore each because then would I hit my balance in nature. Let me make my mistakes and learn from them. Let me fall and get back up.

All I ask of you is that you don’t let me fall so hard. I need you to encourage me to be a better person. Don’t force me into being someone I wouldn’t recognize. I am only but human and that’s my saving grace.

My moods would change; my desires and dreams would differ as I grow older. Different paths I may take through life’s journey but in all my goings, let me know there’s going to be that sure road I’ll take and I’ll meet you home always.


The whole idea of relationship is for friendship, companionship, someone to hold on to when you are weak, having a shoulder to cry on. Seriously, the whole long distance ish kind of negates everything a relationship stands for. I really have to give it to those who are in long distance relationships and are making it work. If I love someone I would like to spend most of my time with that person. As they say, one man’s meat is another’s poison, but then no phone call, yahoo chat or 2go chat can replace physical contact. Watching her smile, seeing her eyes light up when I surprise her with a gift, seeing her lips part when she laughs are great moments I would not trade for anything. I’d rather hold on to the one I love than hug my pillow when the weather is cold.

Love grows best when people are always around themselves. They grow with each other every day and are part of each other’s life. Growing old together should bring two people closer and not make them strangers as they grow. I personally don’t like the whole long distance because it really is not easy. Children hardly get to know the parent that is often away. I’d love to see each of my kids take their first steps, be there to hear their first words, play with them like my dad used to play with me when I was little. How can great moments and memories be created if we are constantly apart? There’s nothing that can compare with physical contact. I’d love to hold the one my heart beats for and look into her eyes for hours, get lost in her gaze, stroke her hair back, sing aloud to the castero with her while driving.

The temptation of cheating on your partner is so high when you are in a long distance relationship because it’s very human to long for companionship. At times when we are going through a lot, we just need someone to talk to, someone who would listen and doesn’t necessarily have to say anything, we just need someone to hold us, to hug us and help us feel safe.  All these are hardly possible with long distance and most times people end up in the arms of another when they are so lonely and their better halves’ are far away. Why go into something you know would not give you full satisfaction? Seeing each other once a month really does not help for a healthy relationship.

The mental stress alone is enough to drive one crazy thinking of her welfare and hoping she is safe. What if she is in a place like Jos which is filled with ethnic clashes? Can one live his life worrying all the time? Why go into such stress just because you fell so hard for someone?

At times love really is not enough. When going into a relationship you have to think and apply wisdom. Make sure it’s what you want and what you can handle and live peacefully with. Never settle in love. Suffer the pain of heartbreak for a while rather than go through a life of loneliness, worrying and suspicion. God help you if you are the jealous lover kind of person and you are in a long distance relationship. You’ll just end up crazy. Long distance relationships take a lot of love, trust, understanding, commitment and patience. Someone lacking these characteristics isn’t advised to go into a long distance relationship. Also people who tend to be clinging and love companionship a lot and really don’t like being alone should flee any form of long distance relationship.

Well, what do I know? I am but just a kid…..


I can’t imagine living without music, it feels very impossible. Music is one of God’s greatest gifts to humanity. It comes in different genres, a host of variety to choose from depending on your choice. Music is a friend anyone can count on, anywhere and anytime it never fails or disappoints. It unites the whole world even breaking the barrier language tends to set between different ethnic groups. The sound of music is an out pouring of life, enriching and blessing the human mind, helping to keep it sane.

When friends are gone and I am all alone, music is what keeps my lonely soul company. At times when I am lost for words to express how I feel, all I can think of are lyrics of certain songs that I can totally relate to at such times. In times of despair and depression, certain songs come in handy to lift my weary soul or encourage me in times of fear. Even plain instrumentals can help provide a soothing environment when I want to commune with my inner man or enjoy the beauty of nature, providing me with great peace of mind.

Music moves me. I can get so high on music anytime, anywhere, any day. Anyone could host a party without food or drinks present, but what is a party without music?

Even in times of mourning and sorrow, music helps us with great comfort not even our best friend can provide. Life wouldn’t make sense without music. It’s a voice given to the oppressed to fight for freedom.

Music makes life beautiful. Take away music and you take away life. Music can get you through even the most stressful day or even help you through that boring work that seems unending.

At times I just want to forget the world, lose myself and go crazy with music being my ecstasy. Music speaks to our innermost emotions. Great love songs and inspirational songs have a way of melting our hearts with each pluck of guitar string tearing down thick walls of defense we’ve built around our hearts, causing a flow of amazing emotions or is it the way our legs move involuntarily to the beats of bass drums?

Music takes us to a whole new realm; a place so beautiful and warm, turning our sunshine into rain, you’d want to stay in for eternity. Just the right music for the right mood and you’ll be in a whole new level of existence which really can’t be described but is best experienced.

You can take away sight, hearing or even voice but one thing no one can take is the music of our heart.

FRIDAY THE 8TH (first week of horror at NYSC orientation camp, Sagamu)

Friday the 8th day of the month of July 2011 will forever go down as one of my most memorable days in camp. For the very first time I felt like a corper even though it was a day after the swearing in ceremony and four days after I arrived camp.

It was indeed a big relief when I read in my call up letter I was posted to Ogun state for the mandatory NYSC. Due to the infamous post election violence, the fear of being posted to the northern states of the federation became the beginning of wisdom so to say. 

I arrived the Sagamu camp on Tuesday the 5th, the official opening day of camping which was to last three good weeks. I was in high spirits. My hopes for a wonderful and promising three weeks of camping rose to a whole new level immediately I set eyes on the camp environment from outside the gates. 

The building was impeccable; the walls wore new paints and the surrounding environment was serene. Saying I was ecstatic would be a laughable understatement, it was far better than I had imagined it to be going by the tales I had heard from past corpers about how unkempt the camps usually are. The camp was newly built and I later learned we would be the second set of corpers to inhabit the premises.

I didn’t let the long queue ruin my joy, actually that was the longest queue I have ever been on my entire life and I sincerely don’t plan on being on such a queue in a long time to come, hopefully. I waited patiently under the scorching sun, interacting with fellow prospective corpers to pass time till it got to my turn .After several hours of waiting; I was finally on the line facing the camp gates where the registration was going on. 

To my greatest surprise, the bright rays of the sun were replaced by dark clouds and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distant skies could be heard. The cool feel of breeze caressing my skin wasn’t welcome at such critical moment. In fact, the harsh rays of the sun was a million times welcome than the breeze. I refused to lose hope as the officials kept on working, paying no attention to the threatening rain.

I could see great fear in the eyes of everyone as I said a silent prayer to God to hold back the rain till at least immediately I went through the gates and registered. Selfish, I know but it seemed it was going to be a game of survival of the fittest as people started jumping the queue in order to get registered before the rains came down. Few minutes later, the heavens gave way and the rain came pouring down. I watched in horror as the first drop of rain hit my luggage with each subsequent drop breaking my heart into pieces. 

Confusion became the order of the day as everyone scampered for a place to hide not caring about any other’s safety. Even Benjamin Orubor, my dear friend who was among the last persons to arrive camp but found his way close to the gate due to my help by allowing him enter the space at my back fled before I could say ‘Jack Robinson’. It was every man to himself. I felt dejected. There I was, standing close to the gate believing I would be registered after several hours of waiting. So close, yet so far.

I picked my bag and ran along with the crowd, pressing hard to get to the nearby hall before my bag and its contents became drenched. As I pushed my way through, I felt my slippers cut. I couldn’t believe my day which started on a rather great note was fast turning into a nightmare, only that the nightmare was indeed my reality. 

I picked up my cut slippers and ran to the hall, struggling all the way with my bag even though its weight was a huge burden all the while, bare footed on one leg. The rain kept falling for hours washing away every brick of hope I had left of being registered that day. It subsided and desperate prospective corpers itching to be registered ran outside the gates under light showers queuing up again to be registered, but alas! They were all dispersed by the soldiers; registration for that day was over. Night came and we were given temporary hostels. I went to bed that night hoping for a better morrow, little did I know my misfortunes had just begun.

The next day, Wednesday was indeed drama filled. We all woke up early to make front position on the queue outside the gate. On getting to the gate I saw several long lines, no one knew which the authentic line was. I kept jumping from line to line till early afternoon before registration commenced in earnest. When I was close to the gate a new queue was formed, this time we had to stand according to the institutions we graduated from. I ended up at the far end of the line. Soon enough to my delight, the arrangement was abandoned and this time I just had to jump the line to the front before I eventually entered the gates.

Inside the gates, I had to wait patiently on another queue once again in order to get a bed space while also trying hard to resist the urge to throw stones at those jumping the queue. I got my bed space which was up bunk, though I wasn’t surprised because that seemed to be my lot right from my undergraduates days, always getting up bunk which I hated passionately. Well Ben proved to be a good friend as he exchanged his down bunk with mine even without me asking because he could see depression written all over my face.

Finally I had to register formally in the hall, which turned out to be the climax of the day’s drama. At exactly 11:30pm my tag number was called up after hours of waiting on one spot on a queue to get a tag number, then another five more hours of waiting for the number to be called so I could get a file. My joy knew no bounds as I received my file from the official. The wait was over, so I thought. I was a registered corper after two days of serious hustling.

Once again, my joy was short lived as the officials in charge of giving out the NYSC kit, otherwise known as platoon instructors closed a few minutes before I got to their table; so much for a wonderful camp experience. I went to the hostel tired and in dire need of sleep.

The next day was really painful to live through as it was the swearing in day and everyone was expected to be dressed in their ceremonial wears. But there I was in my mufti looking all sad and blue, watching all my roommates dress up excitedly as I lay on my bed a little depressed. Stepping out of the boys’ hostel turned out to be a great mistake as I was greeted by excited corpers, hugging and taking pictures. 

Everywhere I turned, smiles radiated. In the midst of the crowd I felt all alone. I waited patiently in the camp for the wearing in ceremony which was took place at the stadium beside the camp to be over before going to queue up for my kit. I didn’t even bother attending the ceremony. This time I made sure I was among the first persons to get to the hall and stood proudly at the second position on the line awaiting the arrival of the officials. 

Platoon instructors came in one after the other attending to corpers in their various platoon. I waited patiently for mine to come. I took it as a test of my patience. A few minutes later, my platoon instructor arrived and dropped the bomb on us. He informed us the kit in the store was finished and we had to wait till the next day for new set to arrive. At that moment I was finally convinced my stay on camp was definitely jinxed. I stood staring into space in utter bewilderment as his words sank in gradually.

Friday came, by this time I really didn’t care anymore if I got my kit or not. I couldn’t take any more disappointments. I was officially the laggard of my room. Some of my roommates even believed I had long collected my kit but hid them to avoid attending parade. I couldn’t care less what they thought, I had lost interest in everything and if a genie was to appear at that moment, my wish would definitely be that the days be fast forwarded to the passing out day.

I strode into the venue for collecting kit nonchalantly filled with so much apathy towards the system. As usual, my platoon instructor was fashionably late and didn’t even bother to apologize. It felt really great to hold my kit in my arms. That moment was priceless. I felt like a winner, a champion, a conqueror. After all my trials and pains I was finally free. Now I was indeed a copper. 

After three days of hardship and stress I was relieved but then I spent the next thirty minutes looking for someone who had a bigger size of sneakers to exchange with as the pair I was given were way smaller than my feet. I didn’t mind, all that mattered was I was good to go.

Kelly Rowland speaking for sore hearts....

I don't know why this single was dropped from her final album, maybe because of its poor chart performance but the lyrics of the song tell exactly what some of us feel or have felt before. quite a number of persons can relate to these deep lyrics..its even better when heared..its a beautiful mid tempo electropop ballad from kelly rowland...i was streaming songs on the net when i came across the tells of a relationship which has gone sour but people outside see it as beautiful, not knowing the pain and stress you go through to make it work. it all boils down to not judging a book by its cover which of course most people don't adhere to. it really isn't all about romantic relationships, it could be between two best friends or even flat mates....i have had my fair share of such where the whole world sees it as beautiful and don't understand why it haas to end, in fact they are all rooting for you guys to be together because you look so good and seem like a role model or an ideal couple or friendship that people have to look up to or a reference point or hope that such 'pure' love still exists despite how selfcentered the world has become, they don't want that star they have made out of your relationship: their little beam of hope to die. but then they really do not know the hell you are going through or pain that's hidden by those want to get out and take in air so you don't get suffocated by that toxic relationship but then everyone just keeps judging you and asking why you want to destroy what you have, not knowing all you have is pain even though it appears all so beautiful. they keep talking and asking you questions but never really listening to what you are telling them, never feeling your pain or truly trying to empathise with you. they all just believe you guys are meant to be become so tired of explainin your self that you either just ignore them and do what's best for you or you bow to their pressure and do what seems to be socially right, pleasing the public and hurting your self. this song says it all, our inner most feeling, the way things speaks the truth we never really have the opportunity of saying out loud, pouring out the words right from the deepest parts of our hearts.
When we finally get out of such relationships or friendships or business deal or just whatever seems to be taking our strength and we finally grow the balls to tell everyone to shut the hell up and mind their damn business becuase they don't know our pain or know what we are going through niether do they know what's best for us because it's our life and our sanity at stake.
You finally get to live a stress free life, seeing things clearly and then you realise how much of your life and energy you wasted trying to make it work but in the end it really wasn't worth. you begin to regret how much you blamed yourself
that the relationship went wrong because it really takes two to tangle...looking back at the time spent in building such relationships all you feel is resentment and how much of your love got watsted on someone who didnt deserve even an inch of it. though at first you feel you won't make it without them or that your life would never be the same but after a while you realise how peaceful and beautiful your life is the lyrics of the song.....

Everybody's saying that we should get back together
And everybody's saying that we meant to be together
Everybody's saying how the love was so damn perfect
And I ain't never seen a bit of it, don't think it's worth it cuz
They ain't been through the things that you put me through and
They ain't seen all the things that I've seen in you
and they ain't never cried the tears you made me cry
So, they can't be the judge cuz,
They don't know what I know
They never seen that part of you
They know the lies I know the truth
They say stay I say goThey never seen our scars before
They think our love is beautiful
Cuz everything's beautiful when you're looking through rose colored glasses
Everything seems amazing when you see the view
I n rose colored glasses
Take'em off ...
Now everybody's thinking I was just too scared to love you
You got em all believing that I folded under pressure
It's crazy how I gave my best I tried so hard to love you
I can't believe that all this time my pain just bought you pleasure
But they ain't been through the things that you put me through
And they ain't seen all the things that I seen in you
and they ain't never cried the tears you made me cry
So, they can't be the judge cuz
They don't know what I know
They never seen that part of you
They know the lies I know the truth
They say stay I say go
They never seen our scars before
They think our love is beautiful
Cuz everything's beautiful when you're looking through rose colored glasses
Everything seems amazing when you see the view
In rose colored glasses
Take'em off ...[x2]

Monday, 16 January 2012


(This note is dedicated to all mothers, wives, future wives and future mothers who have and will always stand by their families)

The microphone was handed over to her. She had sat quietly by her husband of fifty one years, nodding her head in agreement to every word he spoke. There she sat devotedly supporting her husband as she had always done since the second she said ‘I do’. Now it was her turn to speak. She and her husband had been invited to be guest speakers on their church’s family night. They were the oldest couple in the church and they were asked to impact the younger ones with their divine knowledge, especially on how they’ve made their marriage work over the years.

After over an hour of listening to her husband answer questions, she was finally asked to relive her experience as a wife so far. This will be the first time she’ll be telling her story to a crowd; though she’d use her past experiences various times to counsel her children, neighbours and younger relatives, she’d never really told it all at once.

She opened her mouth to speak but the words didn’t come out. She took in a deep breath, reminiscing on her life. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she began to speak finally. Her marriage had had its good times, bad times, beautiful and ugly times. But in all, as far as that very minute she was sitting by the only man she had ever loved, she knew her marriage was a success and she couldn’t be any more grateful to God.

Her husband was a senior worker in one of the government parastatal when they got married. It was not common then for females to be career women, so she stayed at home in the early years of the marriage, taking care of the five children God blessed them with. She had it all then, the perfect life; a faithful husband who came home every evening after work, once in awhile showering her with jewelries. He tried his best to bring funds for the household up keep on time even though certain times there was delay in payment of his salary. Her children were doing great in school and the family lived in their personal house. What more could she ask for?

Then ten years into the marriage, tragedy struck and her life never remained the same. Her husband fell ill, becoming bed ridden for the next eighteen years. Eighteen years of hardship, pains and struggles it was. Eighteen years she had to give up her social life and pleasures that her family may survive. Her friends called her a fool for staying with a man who couldn’t provide for her and her kids. One by one they all abandoned her. Her social group disbanded her due to her inability to pay her monthly dues. Her family neglected her since she paid deaf ears to their advice to pack out of his house and find a healthy man to remarry. Her in-laws were no better; they accused her of witchcraft, saying she was the architect of their son’s illness and misfortune.

No matter how hard they tried to discourage her or how painful the persecutions were, she stood her ground, fighting for her husband, her children and her family. She never lost hope. She found succor in the church, which was her pillar. God indeed was her strength, never leaving her side even though most times she felt alone; she knew God was working it out for her. Each day she read the bible, looking up to the proverbs 31 woman as her ideal role model, striving to be like her.

Without any foresight or preparation, she became the bread winner of her home. She started petty trading at the front of the house when all their saving had run out. When that wasn’t enough to cater for her husband’s medical bills, pay for her children’s education and also run the home she began to fry akara (bean cake) each morning and evening. As the years went by, the expenses grew especially those of the children as they moved up the academic ladder. She began moving from house to house; washing dirty clothes of her neighbours in addition to her trading just to make ends meet. When her kids were on holiday, she left the store in their care and went in search of construction sites, carrying blocks and concrete to augment her income. Theses she did for her family out of love. She never complained and never made her children or husband feel they were a burden. They were her responsibility and she owed them her care, devotion and unconditional love. Their happiness was her happiness.

When she was ill and had body pains she never showed it. She never allowed her children see her weak. She knew she was their strength and they all looked up to her. She needed to be, had to be strong for them. She told them tales of the hero their father was before he became bed ridden, of how he was a loving and staunch husband, an amazing dad. She filled them with hope of a better tomorrow.
During festive seasons she doubled her effort because she never wanted her kids to feel left out or unfortunate amongst their peers. She taught them the way of truth according to God’s love. Every day she said a silent prayer to God on their behalf. She made sure they ate to their satisfaction and ate only after her household was satisfied. She sold the jewelry her husband once gave to her. Piece by piece she sold her wrappers till she was left with four sets. Her wedding ring, she never let go of; it was a reminder of the vow she took on her wedding day, promising to love her husband in sickness and in health till death did them apart.

On each individual birthday anniversary she made her kids feel special, always cooking their favourite meal. At times when they seemed to stray, she never hesitated to bring them back to the right path with strokes of the cane.

The years rolled by and she grew stronger. She was faithful to a fault, times when life seemed to devastate her especially when she saw how glitzy the lives of her mates were, she turned to her God for strength to carry on. After 17 years of pain, her first child graduated from the university and heaven smiled at her. He got a good job and helped to relieve her of her burden. Soon the others followed and in the next few years her husband was back on his feet.

As she spoke, she looked at her five children, each seated beside their various spouses at the front row of the church, some of them holding their kids; her grand children while the more grown up ones sat at the children section of the church. She smiled and saw in each of them the reward for her labour of love. Then and there it hit her; though she never made millions out of her trade, she was rich. Her family was in one piece because she chose not to give up on them. She bore the pain and the shame, going through the most difficult institution in life which even the world’s greatest billionaires and celebrities have failed to succeed at -‘marriage’. Indeed she was a success and she owed it all to God who saw her through. Her husband and kids and grand children were doing fine spiritually, financially and in all aspects of life. Indeed the glory of the latter years was far greater than that of the former. In pain did she sow but in joy was she reaping her reward.

Even now she loved her family more and was ready to give her life for them. Only a true mum and loyal wife can truly love her family to this extent and even greater.

N/B: this note was inspired by a woman who told her story about how she struggled to stay by her bedridden husband and her family for years and also from the women I see each day carrying concrete at construction sites on my way to work and those I see struggling to make ends meet from various jobs. Above all from my one and only mum whose love has carried me through life and also whose labour of love has built our family.

Friday, 13 January 2012


My university classmates can attest to the fact that I am a complicated emotionally unstable person. If someone had told me I was going to be this messed up kid, I really would not have believed because I seemed pretty normal growing up until my jss3 when I started discovering I was a little bit different from others. Okay, saying a little would be a laughable understatement. Matters grew worse in ss1 when the whole mood swing issue began. I remember certain days I would just shut everyone out and my then naive friends; we were all naive teenagers then, didn’t know what was happening. Well I did go through senior secondary school in tact thankfully.

In my early university days, depression added to the list. All of a sudden the guy who used to be friends with almost everyone in secondary school became this quiet almost friendless guy. Things started changing. I started keeping to myself. It took me almost four years to get used to my classmates. Well I ended up the same person I was after getting it right and understanding that indeed I had three personalities which had been with throughout my secondary school days. Now I understand when one personality has taken over and I know how to manage their weakness and I also know their strengths. Combined they all form one hell of an intriguing amazing nice and sweet guy you would definitely love to meet, all you need is just understanding.

Iyosayi has always been the major person I knew. He is the normal everyday guy. Takes religion seriously, empathizes a lot with people around, has great compassion for people and loves his friends so much that he is willing to do anything in his power to make sure they are alright. He is the uptight of all my personalities. Iyosayi is the studious one, the one with the great cramming ability. I bet if there was an award category for cramming during the final year week he definitely would have won it. He is the paranoid guy and is always extra careful and puts people through a lot of personal tests before making them his close friend. He thinks a lot about things, great planner for the future, articulate when it comes to spending money. Not the type to squander money, a great saver. He loves to save money, a trait he learnt from primary school. Sticks strictly to a budget. He is very time cautious. His weaknesses are his mood swings and depression. A lot of friends have gone through a lot because of his mood swing ish. Really it got so bad that the whole class knew about it. We could just be gisting and laughing, next thing Iyosayi would become quiet and shut everyone out. It was such a terrible thing. It got to its peak in my final year, well big thanks to friends then who didn’t let me continue, they really sat on my matter and helped me overcome it. Now it’s so easy to come out of it and manage it well. Another weakness is his anger management problem. Iyosayi easily gets angry, pissed and disappointed in people he expects so much from especially those that are very close to him. Before serious outbursts was how he expressed his anger but a good way of managing it has been found by keeping the person quiet and allowing the anger to subside before talking the matter out if it’s still important. But this has been misinterpreted to be malice and seriously that’s just dumb. It took the university system to teach him a lot about tolerating people, so glad he has finally gotten that right. He is one hell of a shy guy also. He is the adult in me.

Princely is the writer, the creative guy. His personality came to the fore in 300level when I was editor in chief of the faculty’s fellowship. Then in secondary school days I used to write on pieces of paper, mostly about the way I felt. I never thought of it as a big deal or saw it as something serious. I really didn’t have anyone to talk to, so I’d just jot down a few things to express myself and then tear it up. I never suspected there was a writer in me. I always had this interest in reading novels and articles. Being editor in chief really wasn’t a big deal, wrote articles and pasted then on the notice bored on weekly basis. At first I felt it was nothing and just service, but it brought me popularity. Truth is I love attention but when the attention comes, I become shy and start hiding, trying my best to be invincible. People I didn’t talk to started greeting me on the way, some that were bold enough would come to say a few good things about my articles, the arrangement and stuff. Even those not in the faculty that usually read there at night started asking who is the Princely Omo guy, that is my pen name. The notice board became the most sort after notice board in the faculty. I am glad I was an impact in the lives of people. The fellowship mini magazine was released and then I knew I would love to develop my writing skills because of the positive response the magazine generated. Princely is the creative writer in me. A friend once told me I would be the kind of writer that would write only depressing ish because of my mood swings, and I laughed. Actually I am pretty good at writing depressing things, like they say, your mood influences what you produce because art is an extension of one’s self. When I am depressed I love to write so I end up penning down strong depressing crap. People feel I am suicidal because of some of my status updates but I tell them it’s all creative writing, which I truly hope it is for my own good.

My third personality is McSteamy. Simply put, he is the crazy one and perverted soul. I have always had him right from my secondary school days. I just suppressed him then; only those very close to me then knew him. Iyosayi used to be the main personality, so people generally saw me as a shy person but when I get used to you, you definitely would get to see McSteamy. McSteamy is that fun loving, carefree, open, free spirited and friendly person who could make you laugh all day. He is great fun to be with. He has ruled and conquered facebook with his inane and daring status updates. I remember a friend complained that because of McSteamy’s updates the system he was using closed his facebook page several times due to parental control. Another friend said she went to a café one beautiful morning and immediately she opened her facebook page, she had to quickly scroll down because of McSteamy’s very ‘steamy’ update. Another told me when his neighbour who was ignorant about the whole facebook ish read one of McSteamy’s update and reported him to his mum that he was doing porn in the café. One of my female friend said when her brother is with her in the café, she doesn’t dare open facebook because of McSteamy. I remember a friend once warned me seriously not to update again else he’ll just have to beat me up. So much damage done by McSteamy but then a lot of people did say he made facebook interesting for them. He would drive you crazy with weird and twisted ideas. He is a great guy. He has been described as a guy who can’t be ignored in a gathering. No matter how much he tries to be invincible he always gets noticed. He is the child in me.

All these three great guys make up me. So I hope you guys can understand me better now and know which personality you are dealing with when any of them takes over. Of course this piece is written by Princely. Once in a while any of them takes over.

Well, what do I know? I am but just a kid…..