Wednesday, October 26, 2016

A man or a boy.....

The hardest truths to hear are the ones you are forced to tell yourself. I ask myself a ton of questions sometimes and these questions don't give glowing commendation of my person.
I ask myself sometimes. Am I a man, a boy or something else...
Well since am almost 37 the most obvious response would be a man. I don't know about other men but a lot about my life shames me.
People say life is like that, that you're embarrassed about what you did or did not achieve, what you reached or did. Not reached, or more importantly what you feel or should not feel
I get angry sometimes, get impatient with people in ways that's hard to describe, some who are unkind would say I lack the required maturity to deal with people as they should be dealt with.
There seems to be no place in this world for someone who tells people the truth. They prefer you lie and cover up the inadequacies that hold them down.
Saying these things make them think I do not consider my own failings and inadequacies.
Little do they know I lie awake many a night hating the pathetic little existence I call my life. I constantly ask myself if my brain was shooting on all cylinders I should be further up the ladder of success than I am now. This is not being self depreciating, I call it being very strict with myself.
Am a man, a boy or something else? I don't know what I am. But I know God knows. I am betting he's up there laughing at my little identity crisis. Am a man or a boy.... I chose man. But that won't sink in until my success is in my hands
This question is one I think all should ask. Maybe then you'll measure how far you have before you breathe your last 

Sunday, October 23, 2016


Its a hot day, pretty hot for a late October Sunday. There is no electricity, no surprise there right?
Feeling restless I left the house and drove to the cybercafe to charge my phone and laptop so I could do some work.
Mum called to say the electricity is back on. Now I debate with myself if I should head back home or remain here.
There is every temptation to remain. I could rush home and the light would go again and I'll be back at one.
Sitting in the café writing this blog post on my phone I start to reminisce, my thoughts drifting to days when life seemed a whole lot simpler.
I remember days sitting around the dinning table with my siblings consuming plates of boiled yam and palm oil. The real treat was when mum bought roasted plantain and we ate it with palm oil
Or during Christmas season, we'll lie awake all night praying for day to come so we could open up our presents.
I remember how happy we were then. We felt nothing could go wrong. As we got older, we became wiser, our great nation went into decline. Some of us got married, while I fell ill and almost died.
Now we are scattered around the globe, each doing our own things.
I walk through these walls, drive round this lil old town and remember all those beautiful memories while facing my great future.
It's good to remember the good past but like every wise man will tell you don't dwell there permanently. I had some fun beautiful times but I guess it's time to make some beautiful more desirable moments that will stand the test of time

Sunday, October 16, 2016

Freedom from pain

I feel the darkness, I feel the pressure. Like five ton weights weighing heavy on me. I hear the promises, feel the goodness the words bring. I feel like a king, unhindered, undisturbed with light speed motion. I feel the power, his power not my power ---- his power surging, strengthening carrying me across voids I would most likely be unable to cross.
I hear a voice_____ dark, benign, strangely unpleasant to the hearing. He screams at me. Talks to me. Tries to get me to believe I can never be free. I can never rise, possess my place amongst the stars, silence the fiends who keep asking where is my God.
Then I hear another voice. A soft kind, mercy filled voice. I hear what he says and it's like peace came to me to stay.
I love the way____ his ways. Why?
Because his love has come to stay. Now there shall be no more delay.
Freedom peace has finally come to stay

Tuesday, October 11, 2016


I worry about the state of the polity. I worry about the people within it. I worry when a daughter tells her father she wants to marry and he decides to throw a big soiree at the grooms expense when he isn't going to contribute a dime to the union.
There are a lot of things in this nation that can make a guy worry. I worry when there is a job interview or aptitude test and the best candidate is the least likely to get selected, Why? Because some political big wig has another candidate who has nothing but mothballs between his or her ears. It's like the entire society is turned upside down and inside out. Its a place where am beginning to believe normal guys like me do not belong. Yeah right! lol
Anyways I could go on and on about the light, go on and on about the economy, then I could deviate and drift to the US Presidential joke or should I say circus. I could climb on a pulpit and wonder (aloud) how does a candidate like Donald Trump get to be one of the front runners in the presidential campaign? Its surreal!
A Facebook friend pointed out that should Hilary win the race, he wouldn't call it a victory for feminists or women at large rather an insult. Why? Because according to him (and am quoting him here) she is running against a man that is more or less a tactless and misogynistic baboon. The real victory would have been her running a man of impeccable character and winning. But beggars can't be choosers right? I guess one has to watch and see how it all plays out.
Personally I worry if a man like Trump gets to be president of the United States. We in Nigeria have enough problems without dealing with potentially world ending events which could be precipitated by a man as volatile and unstable as Trump. But who am I to put too fine a point on it. I guess we at the opposite corner of the world can watch and wait with bated breath and see how it all plays out while worrying every step of the way.   

Sunday, October 9, 2016

An excerpt from my zombie apocalypse trilogy titled Holocaust

The machine gun hung heavy, the strap biting into his shoulder. The falling rain was blinding, it fell in sheets. He could barely see. He heard the feral growls ten feet into the undergrowth, a stone throw from where he stood in mud that reached his knees.
He ducked down as he saw the first shadow flit by. If he hadn't been sensitive he might have missed it. It was followed by another and yet another. His heart grew grim. They were hunting him.
He went into a crouch praying with all his heart that the rain and mud would mask his scent. The authorities hadn't quite decided if they reacted to smell.
The one in front paused, the suit he wore was ragged, tattered and strewn with holes. Might have been a banker or something before he was stricken with the Evonso virus.
His red eyes drifted in his direction. He held his breath clutching the submachine gun even tighter. He was low on ammo. He didn't know if he had enough to kill them all. He could hear more running amongst the trees. This didn't look good.
The faint sound of rotor blades drifted their way. Their reaction was instantaneous. They took off heading towards the sound at a fast sprint. The night slowly stilled. And then he was truly alone.
He stepped out of the mud, wiping the water off his face. The rain still fell hard. He looked around trying to get his bearings. He was still some distance from safety.
He took off with a sigh, running as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

He reached the hill about an hour later. The race through the cave took another fifteen minutes and he was back on his perch looking at the abandoned cluster of buildings. A city that used to be called Lagos.
He removed a tiny pair of binoculars from his right pocket and raised it to his eyes. he saw the helicopter hovering over a tall building, the light from the halogen lamp twirling in long measured sweeps.
It had been ages he'd last seen one. He didn't know any still flew. It looked like a military helicopter. What were they looking for?
As he watched he saw dark shapes leaping from building to building, tearing towards the helicopter. These forms were larger than the infected. His heart started to race. This wasn't good for those in that helicopter.
A hail of tracer bullets burst from the helicopter raining down on the dark forms. It had little effect. The two in front took a long leap smashing into the side door. It crumpled like paper. He could hear the faint screams as it plummeted smashing into the side of a building before it exploded, the mushroom cloud explosion lighting up the darkness.
His heart grew grim. Idiots! What were they searching for? Anyone with an ounce of sense should have known Lagos was off limits whether by land or air.
He turned back into the cave. It was time to prepare something to eat.

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Monday, October 3, 2016

Why Nigeria doesn't work

I remember when I was younger, the few times I ever pondered on the mystery that is my country. I remember asking myself so many times why things do not work.
I watch a lot of movies, read a few books and never once do I hear it mentioned that countries have problems like light, infrastructure, good road network etc.
My mum visited Australia early last year and she regaled me with stories of good light, running water, paved roads and so on. This is a country that started out as a prison colony. Hearing her stories threw me into deep introspection and I asked the age long question I'd been asking for years. Why don't things here work?
A friend on Facebook narrated his awful experience on the Lagos Ibadan express road. How he spent hours in traffic. As he told his story he made reference to the recently discovered stinker of the former first lady who had over 31million dollars in a domiciliary account. Where does a first lady with no known business get that kind of money?
When we convert that to naira its a hefty sum which would be more than enough to fix the express way making it a joy for commuters. But of course our leaders will not do that.
My dad who is a politician, albeit not a very successful one (this I think is cos he is one of the few honest politicians in the business of politics, which is why he gets nothing when positions come up and gets sidelined more often that not). Well not to digress, he just returned from the governorship primaries holding in Ondo State.
According to him, most candidates spent over a billion naira minimum. I was flabbergasted when I heard. If they could spend that much on a friggin primary how much do they intend to spend on the election itself.
I sank deeper into my depressed thoughts as I pondered on this new bit of information.
And then a light bulb lit up in my head. Now I understood why they entered public office and spent most of their tenure doing little or nothing. If you spent such insane amounts to win an election it's only fair to assume you aren't doing it out of the goodness of your heart. From a business perspective, you'd most certainly want to recoup your investment. So they spend the first couple of years diverting funds and looting to get back their money plus interest before they even begin to try and rule the teeming masses.
They say Nigeria is in a recession. Even so I am not convinced there isn't enough money to go round and better the country if people will use the money judiciously.
Our amiable governor owes six months salary and instead of feeling shamed by it he and his sycophants go on every government controlled radio stations to sing praises to themselves on the sweet seven years of rulership he has done so well.... But he hasnt.
Workers are not paid, infrastructure is on the verge of collapse and people all over the country are starving.
Today, we've had electriciy for one out of twenty four hours. If one person can have $30mil in one account, how many others have just as much? Money that could be ploughed back to fix the ailing economy.
We hear stories of the antigraft agencies recovering stolen loot but no one knows where this recovered money is. Or even where it goes
In the papers yesterday they discovered one former governor had 48 houses traced to him. Forty eight houses!!! A public servant who I don't think had that big of a fortune when he entered office.
I am older now and I see much clearer. I know why Nigeria doesn't work. Because those that are in charge of it don't want it to work. May God help us