Why Blog?

My pen drips liquid pleasure, my writing is like crack cocaine to my brain. I do not enjoy everything I put down but I always get a buzz from the reaction it elicits. It is true that most true artists are interested not in the millions that idolize their work but in the hundreds that claim not to be impressed. I do not feel like an artist, I feel more like a magician, conjuring up words of such exquisite fragility that the fabric from which this intricate tapestry is woven; is at once as shred able as cotton and at the same time as strong as silk. I feel like good writing should go down smooth like Irish cream but with the alcoholic effect of a shot of Irish whiskey. I write because I am bored, and need an escape, a place where my mind is occupied with complex realities and the everyday anomalies of human existence. I write to kill the fiery devil at the center of my heart that wants me to do so much more about the everyday injustices both real and perceived that plague not just me or mine but humanity and man. I write to express a point of view, to get out an opinion, to stretch my arguments over a wider area than the guy siding in the barstool next to me at the pub, to openly state my assumptions to see if others think along the same path. But mostly, I write, because I have an audience, even if it is an audience of one, it is more than my words deserve and for that I say thank you.

You, Your Past and A New Beginning - You Can Do This.

If yesterday’s you met today’s you, would he be disappointed? The course of life would appear to be incredibly winding, is it possible that out of fatigue from the sheer grind of daily living today’s you left behind yesterday’s hopes and dreams? In the course of reaching for heaven, is it possible that you settled for a penthouse? You are still high up, but you look around and realize that a piece of you might forever never be actualized? Like bad sex, despite the fact that you appreciate that it happened, you know that it could have been so much better.

Tenacity is a trait that is remarkably in short supply, the need to follow the path of least resistance is as old as the universe itself, water flows over rocks seeking the softest corners, it curves its course by wearing them down, the same thing with human nature. Our course through life is often consumed by the present, hardly the hard past or the ambiguous future. The present represents a cumulative total of all that you have been up until now, all your mistakes, concessions, good fortune and hard work. The future is wide open you could still be whatever (yes, you can be president), the past should serve as a reservoir of dos and don’ts but in the end we use it for a dark cupboard where we hide our misdeeds, clandestine affairs, shameful experiences, failed projects, abandoned dreams and mismanaged opportunities.

People tend to haul the past around like an anchor bringing it like nuclear waste into their present, polluting everything. It sours your optimism, because your experience tells you it will not work, rather than you finding answers of what will work in the past, the past tells you to give up. The past colors your objectivity, making sure that you bring a bias into every situation regardless of its relevance. It’s strange that we carry so much of our history around with us but often do not reach into that closet to pull out encouragement for the present but rather excuses for our future. The other funny thing is that the past, the present and the future are all the same, one second ago was your past, and one second from now is your future, the decision you made a minute ago to is immediately affecting your present and invariable will have an effect in the future that will emerge from this present.

So if you were to meet the younger you, the one that ran to class with only one sock and tattered sandals, the one that dreamt of being a Nobel laureate, tell him, yes you have compromised, yes you have deviated from the path but tell him that you have seen the light and you will be back stronger and more determined than ever, that you will be a credit to him, because there is nothing that has happened that says you can’t be all that, Nelson Mandela become president at 79, you have a long way to go.

Seinfeldian Questions Without Good Answers

If someone is holding the door open for you, are you obligated to hurry up? Are they not really putting unnecessary pressure on you, trying to force you to live up to their own lofty standards? Why can't you just continue the leisurely stroll you were having before?



If you are alone in your car and happen to have your finger up your nose at the exact time another car pulls up level so that you can see the disgust look on the face of the other driver, should you apologize? Would it not be more satisfying to pull out you finger and pretend to lick it, just as you drive away?


If you are bald and were trying out a wig when a woman happens to become attracted to your lush head of hair. If you make arrangements to go on a date with her, At what point will you tell her, the hair is not yours? Why do you have to tell her anything? Why not find a good piece of glue and stick that thing unto your scalp until one of your other insecurities kills the relationship naturally.


If you buy a couple a expensive wedding present, then they cancel the wedding. Should you tracked down the party in possession of your gift and ask for the gift to be returned? if you are still owing the credit card company for the charge using in purchasing the “three speed vacuum blender with automatic washer and dryer settings” can you insist they stay married?


If you say “I love you” to your date and they do not acknowledge or indicate that they heard you the first time, should you throw out a second possibly louder “I Love You”? They genuinely could have not heard you or It could be double the humiliation as the second “I love you” just sits there between the two of you, growing in a bigger pile of sh*t by the second.


If you visit the restroom in someone’s house and find one of those pile of magazines that is always stacked in there, if you finish you business but find yourself still engrossed in the “history of the reticulated Python” can you bring the magazine back out into the living area from it's former resting place? Or can you stay in the loo indefinately until you finish your reading?


A young couple you know just had a baby, and on your visit to see the new addition to the family, the wife is like “come and carry baby Mandillas, for a bit”, apart from being very ugly, baby Mandillas has a crooked neck that makes his head lie at an odd angle and the whole thing scares the crap out of you. Can you refuse to carry the baby?


If you visit the restroom in your new date’s house and totally destroy the joint, then just as you are about to flush, you reach for toilet paper and come up empty. Do you call out for a new roll? Switch to water or dress up and run out the place claiming an emergency via a call you just received on the cell phone?


You happen been swimming and suffered significant shrinkage from the cold water, if while you are drying off, a lady you were interested in, stumbles upon you and her eyes are drawn to your severely handicapped member. Should you immediately start to explain to her unasked how you had gone skinny dipping in freezing water? Or would it be better to just move on and hope she does not tell anybody or at least nobody you might run into again?

You are alone in your car with the A/C on and you let go a big fat stinky one, just at that moment a friend that you have not seen in a long long time recognizes you and starts to knock on the window, asking you to winding down. Do you wind down and let them take a good whack in the face or pretend not to recognize them while gently putting your car in drive?

Tired Of The Excuses

Sometimes, I go back to read stuff I had written before, old blog posts, articles, responses to other peoples blogs, that type of thing. The idea being to get a sense of my state of mind at the time and to see if I my perception of whatever it was I was trying to say at the time has changed. Sometimes, I find that my view has moved on from my previous positions and that what once were strongly held beliefs, are now loosely embraced ideas. The general premise of the original post may still hold true but the underlying emotion I would find to have sometimes suffered significant drift. But by far the worse thing about my old stuff, were the God damned TYPOS! They were everywhere, embarrassing, cringe inducing, headshaking, “I wonder where this guy got his education” type, typos. The origin of the problem is of course, known to me; I am a “Hunter Pecker”, be it a fast hunter pecker but a pecker all the same. I stare down the keyboard when I type, I hunt down each individual letter and sometimes can jam out a whole paragraph while barely getting a look at the monitor. The worst part is that I do not have any particular type of mistake that I commit consistently, I generally seem to hit all the high notes (all the “don’ts”) in any given piece of writing. On any given post, I would do my best to appear as poorly equipt (I guess the word here should really should be Mis-educated :-) ) as possible. I commit errors of omission, leaving out entire words in a torrid stream of rushing sentences that barely connect and only serve to tell the reader that I need either better glasses or need to start writing strictly in Igbo. I commit errors of addition, I use the wrong tenses, incorrect verbs and adjectives litter just about every piece I have ever written. In my head I am thinking the word “there” on the screen I am typing “their” and the whole thing is compounded by Microsoft Words automated error correcting software. So while I plow on ahead trying to get to the end of my rapidly evaporating thoughts, the software is busy correcting my errors into even more grammatically inconsistent gibberish that ends up leaving the reader bewildered, thinking this guy really must stop drinking and writing.


So you would ask, after spotting these dramatically wild half sentences or phrases that seem to have been put together by Kokolet; sentences like “ .. starts to knock on the window, asking you to winding down the window” or even “ …which funnily enough was staged by a group of a delusional nationalist group of southern soldiers…” why don’t i make the necessary corrections and move on? Because it would be dishonest and the truth is that no matter what I change, I can’t make anyone that read the initial post, unread it. So after much thought I have decided to invest in a Spanish to English dictionary to brush up on my vocabulary, I will be re-enrolling in the free English for Indigenous Tribes classes at the local community college and lastly I am purchasing a typing for beginners and other slow learners software program that will teach me to type the proper way. Hopefully in a few months I will be able to complete a few lines without completely rendering the reader brain dead. In the meantime I apologize for any previous or current occurrence of random shelling you might have endured from my misguided attempt at blogging. Now that I have gotten that off my chest, i can now go back to misunder representing educated Nigerians on the internet, God help us all.

Race and Racism

Race, one word, with a deeper meaning than the Mariana Trench. It is impossible to have an honest discussion about race. Nobody ever says what they truly feel, clichés flow forth like cheap wine whenever anything racial is the topic.


Thefreedictionary.com has these two definitions for race;


1. A local geographic or global human population distinguished as a more or less distinct group by genetically transmitted physical characteristics.


2. A group of people united or classified together on the basis of common history, nationality, or geographic distribution: the German race.


The German race, funny that they would use that example. If the definitions above are accurate then race is either a commonality based on physical appearance or a cultural phenomena, the resultant effect of the geographical distribution of the human population. I think most people will agree, that it is some combination of these two definitions that produces the toxic mix which eventually leads to hate crimes.

These days the in thing is to differentiate between a racial incident and a racist act, as if the clever play on semantics would somehow lessen the gravity of the discrimination, this would be somewhat along the lines of degrees of pregnancy. You can’t be a little bit pregnant. The problem with bigotry is that it comes in so many shades and hues. The more sophisticated the community, the harder it is to spot. It is at it’s crudes form when combined with poverty, illiteracy and a sense of social inferiority. I have had some friends make the most insensitive statements about a person of a different race, not because do not mind being labeled racist, it takes a certain level of disregard for civil society to openly admit to be being a bigot. They make these statements out of ignorance, and in the mistaken belief that this is just a conversation amongst “us”, nobody was hurt by it.

There lies the problem, ignorance or not, they are being more honest than they would have ever been had the person they were referring to been with us at the time. If a “White” or “Latino” joke is funny when you are with your “Black” friends, it should be funny when your “White” friends come around as well. If African Americans or black people as a whole tend to play the race card more than others, it is not because we ourselves have somehow transcended race. A thousand years of real and perceived oppression, coupled with generational marginalization has led us to build a racial safety net as a catch all for every insult and injury (real or imagined), that we have suffered at the hand of another race. “He would not treat me this way, if I was white” is almost a manta amongst colored folk. The person could just be a “jerk” to all people, of all races.

Going back to the definition of race for a minute; it is true that the human mind will always look for a way to differentiate itself. We find newer and more ingenuous ways to reclassify ourselves everyday. Hence the reason why in some places tribal differences inspire a hatred that burns with a fire that few racists can match. As long as we continue to see “white people”, “black people”, “Africans”, “Asians”, “Southerners”, “Northerners”, “Ibos’” and “Yorubas’” instead of fathers , mothers, uncles and aunts, the world will continue to be a complicated place to live in.

Deep Pools of Black on the South Side of Chicago

I am going to tell you a story, a sad story.




A story of unimaginable misery and a very forlorn story.



This story will leave you in tears.



Iit will leave you angry.



It will leave you with despair in your heart and a gaping hole in your soul.



This is a story about confused youth and gang cultures.



The story of missing dadas' and preoccupied mammies.



It is a story driven by poverty and social marginalization.



A story about the institutionally disenfranchised.



A story about the boy who walked on the wrong side of street.



This is a story about anywhere USA.



A place where the child is raised by the streets.



A place where only one rule matters.



The rule that helps you survive the silence of the city night.



A place where your cry for help will be met by blank stares.



A place where deep and hollow eyes look straight through you.



A place scarred by the viciousness of lives counted in minutes.



Your heart will be broken, again and again.



You will hear of promises being thrown away.



Tales of futures damaged beyond repair.



Tales of men dealing with the repercussions of decisions made as a child.



You will resign yourself to the hopelessness of the times.



You will tell yourself it is the sad savage underbelly of “living in the City”.



The “City” a jungle of a place where boys grow up fast and girls even faster.



A place driven by the one true creed, “I gats to get wats mines”.



I was going to tell you this story.



But you have already heard it, so many times before.



Now the whole thing just washes over you.



Even though you are soaked in it.



You barely stop to reflect on the brutally and stupidity of it all anymore.



This is the sad story of black on black violence.

Things That We Say

“A very large conflagration has overtaken your domicile”. This would be a Nigerian telling you that your house is on fire. The statement itself is technically correct but tactically useless, both in it’s execution and it’s purpose. There is something very Nigerian in a cultural sense in that statement. There are so many elements of our political psychic embedded in that one line. We are people who engineer complex solutions to simple problems, the resulting waste of effort, resources and time is hardly ever consequential, it is merely a necessary by product of the problem reaching it’s natural conclusion. While the situation may or may not have been rectified, what is most important is that it is seen that work has been put into it and that lot of effort was expanded in doing that work, even if at the end of the day, much of that work was an unnecessary waste. I was struck by just how much that statement; a standing joke from my college days, just about describes a typical Nigerian politician.

The statement (“a very large conflagration has overtaken your domicile”) is representative of us in many ways. The first of which is that it calls attention to the speaker rather than the fire. Making glorified statements and long winded speeches designed to impress is as Nigerian as ‘eba or ‘ewedu. The purported intelligence of the speaker, is almost always judged by their ability to mix in rarely referenced grammatical idioms and intellectual sounding Latin phases that the intended audience has little understanding of. The ability to apply “isms” (for example colloquialism) to the end of words has long been held as a sign of good education and advanced learning. I will cop to falling into this trap sometimes and using lengthy words were simpler once would have sufficed. The message, a relevant and urgent alarm is lost in the quiet nodding and embarrassed smiles of the listening audience as they quietly tell each other “there goes an educated man”. For example this was part of Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon's tribute to Chief Gani Fawehinmi upon his passing. “Chief Gani was simply inimitable, puritanically committed, inscrutably remonstrative, ideologically transcendental and quixotically cosmopolitan. His transition is not just the fall of an Iroko but indeed the grand initiation of an Iconic legal salamander!!! “Gani inured himself in the aqua of self abnegation and immolation just to give justice to the down trodden”. He went further to say that “the news brought him emotional laceration and threw him into a state of utter catalepsy.” I am not sure what all that means, but he really must miss Mr. Fawehinmi very much.

The second point is that it manages to magnify the importance of the situation without providing any real urge spurring the listener to action. This is a designed state of inertia, rather than an accidently one. A motivated populace demands action or will take action itself, but an impressed one, is stuck admiring the beauty of the spectacle. Politicians are adapt to make statements that in their totality sound convincing and strong but do nothing to galvanize the population towards any kind of problem solving. The aim here is to continue to milk the situation, while appearing to care but really just posturing for the fame, publicity and of course the money that comes with political office. The confused listener shrugs and continues about their business, to the neutral outsider observing from the side with a full understanding of the situation, this could be interpreted as a like of lack of civic pride or a complete disregard for the plight of another but really the case here is the passing of misinformation from the speaker to the listener. In a country with such a large illiteracy rate, people assume that the purpose of the speech was to impress, they accept it for what it is and move on. Invariably it is just another opportunity to advance the state of the country lost in a cloud of big words.

Which naturally would lead to the question, so was there really any intent to notify anyone of the fire? Like all things that we do, it is complicated. The fire while an unfortunate event was an opportunity, a chance to flaunt credentials, if at the end of the day the fire is somehow put out, all the better. We live in a society that values style over function, it is not an accident that is the “Babariga” is our official native office wear. Seriously with our weather how did a heavy blanket of a garment designed to look good rather than feel good, end up the dominant wear for official business? We as a nation play to the gallery all the time, understanding the sweeping nature of that statement, I will go on record with this summary. This writing is a is a generalization that paints with a broad brush, but nonetheless describes a commonality that defines our everyday values enough for it to be almost always true. I know, I know, I accept the position of kettle, in this black calling contest.

Haiti

What is one supposed to make of these pictures of broken bodies and wretched space? Sometimes carnage of this scale is hard to grasp. The immediacy of the suffering and pain is diluted by distance and the lens of a camera. I feel helpless, paralyze be the sheer scale of the devastation. The sad look in the face of the children juxtaposed besides the forlorn stare of the adults. All the pictures show bodies, bodies everywhere, under cars, buildings, all kinds of boulders, everybody is wearing a coat of white dust. Catastrophic events always serve to demonstrate the smallness of man in the universe of things; they serve to show the uselessness of our everyday pursuits in the face of true events of global proportions. The dead lie there, with their dreams intact, progress broken forever by the harsh faith of the unlucky, but in times like this you are best served by saving your tears and prayers for the living. They must continue to try and make sense of the hopelessness around them, they must continue the journey, they must pick up the completely shattered threads of their former lives and go on living. The hundreds of millions of dollars you are sending will hopefully buy clothes and provisions but it I will not bring back friends and families, these lives are forever scarred, changed forever in mere minutes. Say a prayer for the dead, but spare a coin for the living. Last week those bodies on the floor had plans and today…….

I know what you are thinking.

I have problem, I want to be liked. And I am not sure that is necessarily a standard for success. In my experience the most success people I know have a bit of a bastard in them. They don’t really care what you think and mostly appear to listen to you just to confirm their own opinions. The dilemma here is that if you go too far then people just hate you, if you are unfortunate enough to not have the personal charisma to overcome the douche in you, God help you. I have taken withering criticism from people for things that I did not do, not because I could not perform but because I failed to inform them at the start I did not want to be apart of the arrangement. You don’t want to hurt people’s feelings, you tell them what you believe they want to hear but in the end, you don’t win, do you? I find myself laughing at a joke i did not really understand and nodding in agreement to a mumbled or incoherent statement, if the reaction is in anyway inappropriate, the other party walks away thinking I am are either an idiot or worse, a Jerk. Now, you would say “grow a pair” or something equally as silly, but that is not the problem. I can be an asshole without the slightest bit of regret or worry about your feelings or even the predisposition to try and understand why you are upset. It is just that unlike a natural asshole, I do not find that it is my first instinct to tell you to "fuckoff"! even if that is how I am feeling at that particular time. I find that, the more successful the individual, the more they are (for lack of a better word) very pragmatic in their view of things, this pragmatism is built with a hard edge, built with a tilt towards only doing things as long as it does not require them to make too much of a departure from their regular way of life. I know, at a certain age things are supposed to be what they are and decisions are decisions irrespective of whose ox is gored, that does not mean that it comes more naturally if your first inclination is to try and not hurt anyone’s feelings. I feel like in the end I do end up hurting everyone’s feelings, especially mine. When I nod in agreement without hearing what you said or tell you I will attend you function knowing fully well I will not be there or tell you it is a good idea when I think you are crazy, what do I get out of it? Nothing really, if I want to be honest with myself. You won’t think I am a nice guy when I don’t show up or you finally figure out that scheduling a $1000.00 monthly car note on a $1500.00 monthly pay check is a bad idea. The problem is that I have a hard time being that guy, the guy with the impossible standards, I am not hard to please, at all. I don’t care if you are not the symbol of hard work and diligence, I can do my share and yours without thinking about it. But by doing that, did I help or hurt you? If I held you up to the same standard as I would hold myself, would you be better off? Or am I imposing my own values on you without prior consent? Today’s uncompromising realist could be tomorrow’s inflexible bastard. I guess depending on who you are talking to, you could be both at the same time, but still the problem persists, I want to be liked.

Comments By Choice

BBC Africa-- “The authorities in Nigeria say as many as 15,000 oil militants active in the Niger Delta surrendered under the two-month amnesty which expired on Sunday. The official in charge of the scheme said 5,000 weapons and 18 gunboats had also been handed in by the militants.”
– 5K weapons, 15K militants, hmm…something is smelly a little like fish here. What kind of self respecting militant does not have a weapon? So how were they terrorizing people, by jumping out of the bush naked?

BBC Africa-- “A container full of arms and ammunition has been seized by Nigerian customs officers in Lagos harbour. One person has been arrested and officials are searching for the owner of the arms” – Did the person that was arrested came attached to the container? And how does advertising the seizure help them catch the owner?

BBC Africa- – “Nigeria's top economic body, the National Economic Council, has approved a government decision to spend $2bn (£1.25bn) from its oil windfall fund. But there is criticism over how it plans to spend the money. Economic stimulus packages in other countries have targeted infrastructure projects, job creation, and tax cuts for small businesses. Nigeria's government says it will spend half the cash on clearing the debts of federal government contractors.” – Ladies and gentlemen, the more you look, the less you see, please observe carefully as we attempt to make this money disappear.

Businessdayonline – “Demand for foreign exchange is plummeting at the Wholesale Dutch Auction System (WDAS), sending alarm signals on further depression in the economy. When $100 million was offered at WDAS by the Central Bank of Nigerian (CBN) on Monday, October 5, 2009, only $15.32 million was sold, representing a short fall of 84.68 percent. Experts say the situation is a direct fall out of near complete freezing of credit by banks to corporate organisations and individuals in the last few months. Before the credit crunch hit the financial system, the amount of foreign exchange sold was usually higher than what the apex bank offered. For instance, on August 8 2009, the CBN offered $200 million, but ended up selling $357.75 million.” – Oh boy if na joke make una stop am o! wetin be sey I no fit borrow money from bank take buy money from the same bank? But seriously how is it possible to sell more money than you have?

The Times Of Nigeria- – “The Senate Thursday reacted to allegations that it was attempting to cover up the role played by some chieftains of the PDP in a =N=300 billion road contract by instructing the Senate Committee on Ethics, Code of Conduct and Public Petitions to investigate the allegations.” – This is how you know this is big time. When a committee is set up to investigate the fact, that the previous committee is trying to cover the actions of (probably) another committee. This looks like a closed case to me.

The Financial Standard- - "Average loss on the Nigerian stock market stood at about 30 per cent in the third quarter, equivalent to a loss of about N2 trillion by investors within the nine-month period. Against the background of full-year return of -45.77 per cent in 2008, the third quarter performance indicates that the value of an average investment made since 2008 has nearly been fully eroded by the recession.” – Omo, clear road for jaga jaga. When Iroko tree wan fall, e no dey ask floor wether e don ready.

The PM News- - "The global economic crisis is taking its toll on most Nigerian airlines with the revelation that passenger traffic on domestic and regional routes has dropped by about 40 percent, causing huge losses of revenue to the indebted airlines. P.M.News gathered that some Nigerian airlines are unable to pay the salaries of their staff including pilots and engineers who are key to the safety of the aircraft. The Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority (NCAA) last month set up a committee to investigate the allegations but has not come out with the findings. “We will make it public. Those who are paying and those not paying,” Dr. Harold Demuren, NCAA boss told journalists.But Demuren has been accused of applying double standards in dealing with erring airlines. For instance, he has been accused of looking the other way each time, Bellview, an airline on the brink of collapse, is concerned.Recently, about two hundred passengers of Bellview airlines travelling to London were stranded at the Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Ikeja, Lagos, for several days, Demuren did not intervene until some properties at MMIA were damaged by the angry passengers." – The power God will not let an unpaid pilot fly you anywhere in Jesus name, Amen, nor let an angry airline mechanic service your plane.

The Living Dead

Your primary goal when you get up in the morning, is to make it through the day. There are various obstacles in the way, like your blanket and the softness of the pillow. Everybody starts the day with a full bottle of “get up and go”. For some people, theirs’ empty like an hourglass and they are ready to pack it in by lunch time. Other people are like finely tuned Hondas, efficiently sipping energy all day long. Normally, you game plan your day. Sometimes your plan is akin to a soccer formation, deploying a 4-4-2 which covers lots of activity in the morning and afternoon, or if your aim is to pack the midfield, you go 4-5-1. Other days, you use basketball for your game planning, deciding on whether it would be better to play the pick and roll with your chores or maybe run the triangle on offense and match up zone on your boss. Most people’s typical day normally moves with military precision, 5.00 AM the alarm goes off, 5.01 AM turn it off, 5.03 AM back to sleep, 8.39 AM jump out of the bed.



8.51 AM, you are experiencing your first incidence of road rage for the day. Now, road rage is like morning coffee, it wakes you up, as you curse and threaten everybody else on the road while driving like a lunatic, your blood is flowing and the adrenaline is pumping through your system, this is the high point of your day. You see flashing lights in your rearview mirror, yes that’s right, you are getting pulled over, again. All the anger disappears from you in flash, you are contrite and full of humility, the transformation from King Kong to house monkey is nothing short of miraculous. The officer walks up to your window;



Officer :– Do you know why I pulled you over?

You : – (in a very small voice) – No officer.

Officer : - You were driving erratically and cut that other driver off.

You : – Officer, I apologize, only this morning discovered I have cataracts and I did not see him. I plan to have surgery this afternoon, it will not happen again.



Of course the officer gives you a ticket, as you drive away observing every single traffic ordinance known to man, you feel sad and lonely. It is only 9.15 AM and already you owe the state $265.00 plus court costs, life sucks.



You enter the office at 9.35 AM and of course your boss does not want to hear it, the meeting started thirty five minutes ago and your sorry ass was not only late but unprepared. You em.., em.., your way through a ragged presentation, sit down to the quiet confusion of your coworkers in the room. Your shoulders slump, you are hoping you still have a job by lunch time. Two hours later you are ready for lunch, finally a break, something you can look forward to and enjoy, food.



The line at the lunch counter is seven deep, you push your way to the front, the harassed lady with the wild hair in front is yelling something into the microphone, your mind wonders as you contemplate the menu and after a while you notice she has been staring at you for a while;



Lady (testily) : May I take you order, PLEASE?

You: Can I have the No. 8 with no cheese, no lettuce, no mayo? And no onions.

Lady: SIR’ do you want a drink and fries with that?

You: Can I have a large fry and a medium diet coke?

Lady: That will be $9.00.

You: WHAT? $9….you start to protest but you snatch a quick look at the impatient line of hungry people behind you and quickly change you mind. As you reach for your wallet. you make the sickening discovery, you don’t have your wallet on you! You must have left in the car!



Lady (takes one look at you as you pat yourself down hastily, and hisses): NEXT!





You stumble back into the office, hungry and embarrassed. It’s only 1.00 O’clock and your tank is almost empty. But like a good hybrid you switch to your back up energy source and begin to down large cups of free office coffee. By 3.00 PM you are twitching like a crack addict experiencing withdrawal, now you are just basically clock watching. God, why is time moving so slowly today?



Finally 4.52 PM, you snatch your coat, turn off the system and head for the door. Just as you are leaving, your boss is coming in, he looks at his watch, and instinctively you look at yours as well, the time is 4.57 PM. His face tightens, but he says nothing, you fall into the elevator in a daze cursing your crummy luck.



You get to the garage, jump into your car, put the key in the ignition, turn it and nothing, not even a tickle. Confused you turn on the interior lights in the car, they give off a faded dim burnt bronze glow. You put your head down on the steering wheel, you know what the problem is, in your haste to get to work this morning, you had left your headlights on, now your batteries are completely drained. Time is 5.16 PM.



8.09 PM, you walk through your door and flop on the couch (it’s wasn’t easy getting a jump in a town where hardly anyone carries jumper cables around). But you are home now, last night’s leftover Pizza is quickly wolfed down. The first beer hits your stomach barely touching your throat. The second one quickly meets the same faith. Now an alcohol induced haze is beginning to come over you, you move to the bedroom from the couch, you have made it through today, you survived the day. As you drift off to sleep, you contemplate your life as a modern day work zombie, you mentally steel yourself for the next day’s coming battle.



Time is 10.42 PM.

Disgruntled.

God; it feels like I am sitting in Tonia’s barbecue pit, the heat from the engine is roasting me and my rapidly rising anger is in symmetry with it. I feel a symbiotic bond with the misery all around me, this train is too hot, and this jacket is so God DAMNED HEAVY! I…., I need to calm down…but it is so heavy. Gone are the days when I recoiled from the pain or flinched before the wretched hordes. They can push me around all they want, my days are numbered and the sense of invincibility I feel comes from the certainty of my plight. One eye closed, I try to concentrate on the details of my plan, I feel some perverse sense of pleasure in anticipation of the suffering I am about to unleash. The world had never been kind to me and now finally, somebody will bear the brunt of all the days I had cried myself to sleep. My meaningless,… desolate existence, will be remembered for at least one thing. I will put an end to this continuously endless dissolution of society, corrupt corporations, run by corrupt Neanderthals. They held my head down, yes they did, they never gave me a chance, they ground my ambitions and dreams into dust …….It never much mattered to them how I felt, it was always, take, take, take…… Why is the guard staring at me, does he know? Oh God, I hope that nothing is showing…. Not here, not out in the lobby, I will never make it upstairs, if I have to start here. Phew, he looked away, for a second there I almost……I have to admit these elevators are fast, how fast did the very first elevator go, I wonder? Strange, why am I so calm, my hands are almost perfectly still if not for that slight tremor…. Deep breathe, ohhhh, ahhhh, ohhhh, ahhhhh, breathe in, out, check the twelve gauge, tuck the 45 into my pant front. As I bust through the door, Mrs. Smith jumps back startled, then she recognizes me, I see the familiar disdain begin to settle back into her face, then she sees the gun, her eyes start to widen again. The beginnings of a wicked grin starts to form at the corners of my mouth as I bring the gun level, dead center ………..<

Terror as a weapon of teenage rebellion

I look into the eyes of this kid, this terrorist and I see myself, I see my brother, I see a kid. I try not to ask myself what I would see if he had been successful in his quest, I try to shield my mind from the ugliness of his intentions, from the misery his plans would have brought home to hundreds of people, hundred of innocent people mind you, this festive season. I find it hard to look at his picture on TV, I find myself changing the channel whenever he is story is on the tele, I am not sure why. It definitely is not out of sympathy for his cause, ideology or politics, I don’t know why or how he came about his convictions or why he was on that plane trying to trying to end his life and take others with him. My problem is that I just see a regular kid, a boy from privilege that somehow confused religion with politics. Nigerians might be a lot of things, but we are generally by definition not into terror, or terrorism or martyrdom or any of that ultra religious nonsense. Please do not take this to mean that we do not have overzealous zealots (the redundancy is deliberate) whose main goal in life is the hope of delivering “the unwashed” into the arms of the Lord or God by any name. It’s just that we mostly restrict our blood letting to murdering each other over tribal differences masquerading as religious riots. Nigerians love life, despite the wretchedness of our economy and the corrupt ineptitude of our leaders, we are generally a happy bunch, will party at the drop of a hat, make friends easily and are not loners or socially crippled “the world has done me wrong” types. Here comes this stupid kid from a wealthy father and all of a sudden I am confused, I ask myself “self, why would his boy do this?”, it makes no sense at all. Children of privilege are not supposed to subscribe to the seduction of religious fanatics’, religion is supposed to be the opium of the poor not the rich and bored. So what is the missing link? To use a Nigerian slang “na where this tori from develop K-leg?” I keep coming back to the same thing, is this some form of teenage rebellion? If it is not, then what is it?

My Brother You Sabi Speak Brokin? Morning Humor - If you can read it.

So you wake up for mor rin. Look inside mirror, you are disgusted with what you have become. What happened to that good looking person you used to be? “How did these tires get to the back of my head?” You ask no one in particular. “Oh my God, I have developed choppers!”, you think. Despite or to spite the ugliness in the mirror, you start your day with ten big balls of akra, a bowl of akamu with powdered milk and sugar. You are very unhappy with Mama Theresa, “dis woman wan carry food kill me”, “ wich kin mountain of food be dis?” But as you get up to leave the table nothing is left, your stomach is very happy but your mind is upset. As oga you leave the plate on the table, somebody will clear it, it gives you a small measure of satisfaction that it will piss off Mama Theresa when she comes around to clear the table and do the dishes. Serves her right, always serving you heavy food in the morning. By the way where is that boy? “LEVINUS!, SIR! He yells back, “Can’t you see that I running late, it is more of a statement than a question, he knows better than to respond to that. Oya, go warm the car and bring me my briefcase. You hear keys jiggling as he starts flying down the stairs, Levy loves to warm the car, you suspect that he even drives it from time to time, you make a mental note to set a trap for the rascal. Speaking of which, where in Ijebu is Mama Theresa? Chei, you have suffered in this house, I guess they now expect you to lie out your own clothes. Ehhh… wonders shall never end.

MAMA THESERA, MAMA THERESA! IF I CALL YOU AGAIN, THIS HOUSE WILL NOT CONTAIN THE TWO OF US O! you yell. “Gbaborun!, “why you dey shout”,” why you dey shout” she repeats,” abi you think sey na slave you buy put for house?”” I bin dey downstairs dey fetch water,” “Na wetin you want?” Immediately you can tell she is in a bad mood, if you want to go to work this morning, it might be a good idea to thread softly. In a much softer tone, you ask if she has laid out your Agbada for you already? She murmurs something under her breathe and spins around on her heels, heading for the bedroom. As you watch her walk away, your eyes are drawn to the violent side to side motion of her yansh, almost without warning you feel blood surging through your kini, you are aroused. Feigning anger, you storm after her into the bedroom,you pretend to slam the door shut in anger. You reach out to her with you left hand while with your right, you start to loosen your wrapper “wetin dey worry you sef?” “everytime na so so harassment for this house”. “Oya, come siddon near me for this bed I wan talk to you”……………

Unintended Humor

Someone posted this as a status update;

"THINK WELL BEFORE YOU ACT OR MAKE DECISIONS, CAUSE THAT DECISION MADE TODAY, MIGHT MAKE OR MARE YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE."

and this was one of the comments below the update;

"AND WE BOTH KNOW THATS SO REAL..I MADE A BIG MISTAKE ONCE AND NOW I HAVE TO LIVE WITH IT.."


Now being a very mischievous person i immediately began imagining "Big Mistake" as a living person or being. So you wake up in the morning, in walks your husband "big mistake", instantly ruining the rest of the day. You made the "big mistake" of feeding a stray dog now it is staying with you or that one night you forgot to use protection, nine months later "big mistake" is born or...... i could go on forever, this is endlessly hilarious.


Em .... this na joke, i no know the person wey post that comment, therefore no get any idea wetin the mistake dey refer to.

SWAHILI PROVERBS

Courtesy of SWAHILI PROVERBS: METHALI ZA KISWAHILI

Master - servant

3281. Afadhali kufa vitani kuliko kufa mtumwa. NGU.
It's better to die in the war than to die as a slave.

3282. Akikalia kigoda mtii. EM.9.5.
The one who sits on the stool must be obeyed.

3283. Akosapo mkubwa, mdogo huadhibiwa. EM.10.7.
When a great person blunders, a junior person is punished.
A scapegoat.

3291. Asimamao haendi mbio hayafukuzwa. JKP.
The one who stands will not start running before he is chased away.
"It is not easy to dislodge a dignity once he is in power." JKP.

3292. Atangazaye mirimo, si mwana wa ruwari. F.5.43.
The one who allocates the tasks is not [necessarily] the son of the headman.

3293. Dagaa pia humtuma papa. REK.
The sardine also employs the shark.

Dua la kuku halimshiki mwewe. REK.
The prayer of the chicken does not seize the hawk.

3298. Hata mtumwa alipata kuwa mtoto wa mtu. EM h15.
Even a slave has once been somebody's child.

3300. Hivyo ndivyo ilivyo sivyo? (p.243; 3 Sec.School Students. Edwin Mellon Press.)
That's the way it is, isn't it?

3301. Ipunguzwayo ni iliyojaa. MARA 2.
What is full will be diminished.

3308. Jumbe akikuumiza (akikuudhi) tabasamu. EM j19.
If the headman hurts (offends) you, smile.
The jumbe has authority. If you take offense you may be hurt.

3309. Juu ya mwalimu kutoa ruhusa. JKP.
It is up to the [school] master to give permission.

3312. Kidole cha mkubwa kilimpatia mbuzi mimba. AL 1480.
The finger of the headman has made the goat pregnant,
The experience of a superior proves to be effective. AL.

3313. Kifaranga hawezi kujaa chungu. AL 1588.
A young chicken cannot fill the pot.

3327. Koti kwake ni mgongoni. NGU.
The place of one's coat is on one's back.
Everything has its place.

3328. Kuagiza ni kuweza? TS 35/31.
Is giving orders the same as enabling?

3329. Kuku hali anakwenda akila ameisha hukumiwa afe. AL 1616.
Although the chicken is going on eating, it is already condemned to die.
Little people don't know what the ruling power has in mind for them.

3330. Kuku hashindani na kisu. KB.125. MP.226.1.
The chicken is no match for the knife.
It is the earthen pot against the iron pot. MP.

Kuku ataweza kushindana na kisu? KB.125.
Can a fowl fight a knife? Cf. #1424.

3331. Kuna chuma cha suwezi, hushindana na sukuo? T.183.
Is there iron from Suez, that can fight the grindstone?
Of useless resistance against superior forces.

3332. Kwa kukaukani, maji visimani, hata mfalume, kiu kimuume. JKP
When the water in the wells dries up, even the king suffers from thirst.
"In time of dearth even the king loses his rights." JKP.

3333. Kwa simba fisi huinama: ya simba fisi hula nyama. RSP.74.
For the lion the hyena bows [and so] the lion's food it eats.

3334. Kwenye vipofu mwenye chongo hutawala. REK.
Among the blind one-eye rules.

Kwa vipofu, mwenye chongo huwa [ni] mfalme. NGU.
Among the blind one-eye is king.

3335. Macho ya vyura hayamzuii mteka maji kuteka. EM m1.
The toad's eyes don't stop a water-drawer from drawing water.
Words and warnings of small people don't stop big people to do their things. Cf. # 1417a.

3336. Mafurika hutengeneza mkirizi wake wenyewe. NGU.
The floods make their own path.

3337. Mali ya mjomba si ya mpwa. AL 1115.
The property of the (maternal) uncle is not going to the nephew/niece.
Don't count on help from others.

3338. Mamlaka yanamsahau mfalme anayekufa. NGU.
The dying king forgets his authority.
Mamlaka: authority, right to ownership; property.

3339. Mbiu ya mgambo ikilia ina jambo. F.23.27; T.252; H.59; J., mbiu; SACL.527; KS, mbiu.
When the buffalo-horn sounds, there is something of importance. [and often something is wrong].
Mbiu ya mgambo: formerly a buffalo-horn was blown to call people to hear a proclamation or announcement. J.

3340. Mbwa anakufa, kengele inabaki. AL 1470.
The dog dies, but its bell remains.
Power is transferred to the successor, another hunting dog will carry the bell. AL.

3341. Mbwa hushikwa mdomo na mwenyewe. REK.
The mouth of a dog is held tight by the owner.
A dog does what its owner wants.

3342. Mbwa wa jumbe ni jumbe. AL 1533.
The dog of the chief is also a chief.
Receives the honor of a chief: respect, food.
Jumbe, or mwami: chief.

3343. Meno yasipite midomo. AL 691; AL, mdomo/shinda.
Teeth should not exceed the lips.
One should stay within one's rank. AL.

3344. Mfalme akifanya biashara, raia watakuwa maskini. NGU.
If the king goes into business the citizens will become poor.

3345. Mfalme hasifiwi kwao. NGU.
A king is not honored in his own country.
Mfalme: king, chief

3346. Mgomba mfupi ndio ukatwako majani. KB.182.
From a short banana tree one cuts the leaves.
It is usually the little and meek person who carries the burden.

3347. Milio ya vyura haiwazuii ng'ombe kunywa maji. REK.
The cries of the frogs do not stop the cows from drinking water.
Who is bothered by the cries of a frog?
Mindful of a Native American proverb: A frog does not drink up the pond in which it lives. Cf.#3355.

3348. Mja kwako akusikilize. REK.
A person who is with you should listen to you.

3349. Mjumbe hauawi. F.26.64; T.267; A.73; KB.184; AL 1513; MARA 3.
A messenger must not be slain.
The messenger is innocent and must be respected. KB; AL.

3350. Mkizima moto mtaota nini? AL 1464; AL zima.
If you extinguish the fire, what will warm you?
Undermining authority is always harmful.

Mnyonge hupata haki na mwenye nguvu kutaka. NS.9.
A poor person usually receives rights as a gift, but the powerful just takes them.
Power is stronger than right and money is all-powerful. NS.

3357. Moto ni mtumishi mwema, lakini bwana mbaya. NGU.
Fire is a good servant, but a bad master.

3358. Mpishe mwenye nguvu apite. NGU.
Let the strong man pass by.

3359. Mti wa kimo chako hauwezi kukupa kivuli. EM m31.
A tree of your height cannot shade you.
A person with the same ability as yourself cannot help you in matters which require greater ability than you have. EM.

3366. Mungu tusalimu kodi, mayumba hayana vitu. JKP.
May God preserve us from taxes; even the big houses [the rich families] have nothing left.

3367. Mwamba ukitoka nyumba, makombamoyo yanasambaa. AL 1457.
If the ridge pole leaves the roof, the other poles fall aside.
Without a chief there is disorder and failures. AL.
Kombamoyo or mwamba: roof pole.

3368. Mwenye kutawala hawezi kulala. RSP.102.
A ruler cannot sleep.

3369. Mwinda [naye] huwindwa. NGU.
The hunter also is hunted.

3370. Mwungwana hasukumwi. NGU.
A gentleman is not pushed.
He moves freely.

3371. Mwungwana hatupi nguo chakavu. AL 7.
A free person does not abandon an old piece of clothing.
One does not easily discard an object one is used to. It is hard to abandon customs, habits, pleasures.

3372. Nazi haishindani na jiwe. MARA.58; EM N1.
A coconut cannot compete with a stone.
"A junior cannot beat a senior." EM.
Jiwe: stone; here, a person in authority. Cf. #1413, #1441, #1442.

3373. Ndege tele katika mti, mwenye midomo mekundu ndiye mkubwa. AL 679.
There are many birds in the tree, but the chief is the one with a red beak.

3374. Nikiwa kwangu mfalme. NGU.
If I were at home, I would be a king.

3375. Nyumba kwa kuwa na nguvu, lazima iwe na mwamba. KB.254.
A house in order to be solid needs a ridge pole. In order to keep a family or a society strong it needs a head.

3376. Nywele huchukuliwa na kichwa. MARA 2.
Hair is carried by the head.
Hair on the head is hair. Hair needs the head in order to be hair.
Used for people, who depend on others being in order to exist or to do a job. Dependency.
Malaika: eyelashes, hair on arm or hand.
Masharubu: mustache.
Ndevu: beard
Nywele: hair on the head. Hair on other parts of the body is not called nywele.

3377. Nywele ziliheshimu uso, uso ukaziheshimu nywele. AL 1185.
Hair respects the face, and the face respects the hair.
Superior and inferior respect each other, etc.

3378. Nywele ziliota zikaogopa uso. AL 1569.
The hair has grown and was afraid of the face.
The inferior must stay within certain limits.

3379. Nzige hawana mfalme. NGU.
Locusts have no chief.
Nobody controls them from doing harm.

3380. Ogopa anayekutuma, usiogope mpokea ujumbe. EM o2.
Fear the one who sends you and not the one who receives the message.
The one who sends you has more authority over you.

3381. Pa mndewa usishindane napo. EM p2.
In the headman's domain you should not be a challenge.
You should observe the regulations of that place.
Mndewa: headman or clan leader.

3382. Pa shoka hapaingii kisu. KA; MARA 2.
At the place of an axe, a knife does not enter.
If an axe is needed, a knife is useless [to split a coconut, to cut a tree}.
Use adequate tools or means.

3383. Paa akitoka shimoni, haya ya mchimbaji. AL 391.
If the antelope escapes from the hole, blame is the digger's. Imperfect work is offensive to the headman in charge. AL
The workman is responsible for his work.

3384. Pahali pa mtu kufawa ni mtu aliye juu yake. T.447; SACL.212.
The place for a person to get good is [with] the boss. T.
Where can help for you come from, if not from above you? SACL.
Stand by your boss and you'll profit.

3385. Paka akiondoka, panya hutawala. F.41.4; H.93; J., panya; T.448; V.3; A.139; L.84; B.2.17; RECH. 428; CM.53; KB.257; SWA.57; MARA 3.
When the cat goes away, mice reign.

Paka akitoka, panya wakaruka. RSP.110.
If the cat leaves, the rats jump.
A cruel ruler is better than no ruler. RSP.

Paka wakiondokea, panya tatumilikia. RSP.50.
When the cats are gone, the rats will rule us.
Young ambitious leaders are no better than the old traditional chiefs and elders. RSP.
Tatumilikia for watatumilikia or watatumaliki. MM.

3386. Safari ya mabwana, arusi ya maboi. KB.271.
The journey of the masters is like a wedding feast for the servants.

3387. Samaki anaogelea majini nayo maji yatamla. AL 1573.
The fish that swims in water will be eaten by the water.
A flatterer risks being exploited. AL.

3388. Samaki huanza kuoza kichwani. JK.122.
A fish begins to rot at its head.
When leaders are corrupt, the whole community will become corrupt. JK., MP.

Samaki inaoza kichwani. MP.226. 12.
The fish rots at the head.

3389. Serikali ina mkono mreful. RECH.471.
The government has a long arm.
There is no running away from it. Cf. #1411.

3390. Sheria haijui nguvu. NGU.
The law does not know force.
The law is impartial.

3391. Sheria haina kwao. KS, sheria; NGU.
The law has no home.
The law does not belong to any special group of people.

3392. Sheria iishapo dhuluma huanza. NGU.
Where law ends, violence starts,
Dhuluma: injustice, fraud, oppression, violence

3393. Sheria na chuma hazina huruma. RSP.57.
The law and iron [weapons] have no mercy. RSP.

3394. Sheria ni msumeno hukata huku na huku. KS, msumeno.
The law is like a saw, it cuts everywhere. Cf. #1431.

3397. Sikio halipitii kichwa. F.44.8; SWA.p.93; KB. 278; F., halipwani; AL 1564.
The ear does not surpass the head.
One ought to know one's place.
But also : Use your head, do not believe all you hear. The egg is not more clever than the hen. V.83.
The inferior does not surpass his superior. KB.


3399. Simba mla watu akiliwa, huwani? T.488; KA.
When a man-eating lion is devoured, what matters it?
Why be amazed if an evil person falls down.


3401. Sungura, bakia pembeni; tembo mwenye shindo apite. AL 698.
Hare, stay in the corner, let the elephant in heavy stride, pass by.
Wise people let the ambitious people pass.

3402. Tarumbeta ni mwenyewe. REK.
The trumpet is the master.
The trumpet is dominating and listened to.

3403. Toa amri, nawe upokee amri. EM t13.
Give orders and receive orders.
What you do to others, you should be ready to accept it, when it is done to you.

3404. Tunda lililokatazwa [linalokatazwa] ni tamu. NGU.
The forbidden fruit is sweet.

3405. Ubeberu - kama shetani. NGU.
Exploitation is work of the devil.
Ubeberu or ubepari: the state of exploitation

3406. Ubepari ni unyama. KS.
Exploitation is beastly.

3407. Ukiipata itumie: ukikosa ijutie. NS.15.
If you get it, use it; if you miss it, regret it.
This is said of people who become arrogant when in power; when they lose their power they'll get their due.

Ukipata kitumie, ukikosa jishukurie. SAM.24.5.
If you get it, use it; if you lack it, be patient in it.
Take the good with the evil.

3408. Ukitaka kusafiri, bwana-mwitu umkiri. RSP.135.
If you want to travel, pay due respect to the master o£ the wilderness. RSP.

3409. Ukiwa mkubwa jisahihisha mwenyewe. NGU.
If you are an important person, scrutinize your own behavior.

3410. Ukubwa ni jaa. MARA.71.
Greatness is like a rubbish hole.

Uongozi ni jalala. EM u23.
Leadership is like a rubbish pit.
Leadership is the place where rubbish is thrown; that is, all blames, insults and evils concerning an organization or business are levelled against its leader. EM.

3411. Ukuu si pembe kama mtu ataota. AL 687.
Greatness is not a horn that grows on the head of somebody.
It must be earned.

3412. Usigombeze upepo; njiwa aliyetandika vibaya. AL 1559.
Don't quarrel with the wind; it's the pigeon that landed badly.
It is dangerous to contest people in authority. AL.

3413. Usile kwa sahani ukasahau bunguu. KA.
Don't eat from a plate, and forgetting [that you were eating from] the earthen bowl. Cf. #925; #1661; #1438

3414. Usiogope mkubwa, ogopa ukubwa. NGU.
Don't be afraid of the person in charge, but fear to be in charge.
Ukubwa: greatness, power, grandeur, celebrity, renown.

3415. Usione simba kapigwa na mvua. KA.
Don't ignore a lion that has been caught in the rain.
The lion might shiver and look like a wet old dog, but it is still very dangerous. Don't look down on people who seemingly lost their power. Cf. #1721; #1719.

3416. Usisahau ubaharia kwa sababu ya unahodha. F.49. 39; SWA.28; H.107; JK.140.

Usisahau ubaharia kwa kupata unahodha. FSM.195.
Do not forget the lot of the seaman because [you are now] a captain.
Do not despise those who are beneath you. Cf.925.

3417. Utakwenda utarudi. AL 1551.
You'll go, [but] you'll come back.
Independence has a catch.

3418. Utii ni bora kuliko kafara. NGU.
Obedience is better than a sacrifice.

3419. Viovu vya bwana si vyema vya juma kitwana. SAM. 26.1; MS.190.
The bad things of the master are not the good things of Juma, the servant.

3420. Wakubwa humeza wadogo. KB.341.
The big ones eat the small ones.

3421. Wakubwa wadogo wana taabu. EM w10.
Big little people have difficult times.
If a small or little persons are put in charge they will have difficulties.

3422. Wali unaifokea sahani. AL 696.
The cooked rice is angry with the plate.
The subordinate is always angry in vain with his superior.
Foka: blurt out a rush of words, as in anger.


3425. Wewe jiwe mimi nazi. L.107; V.107.
You are the stone, I am the coconut.
I am helpless, you have the power to crush me. Cf. #1421, #1442.

3426. Wewe kisu, mimi nyama. NS.ll; WIKON.227i SWA.35; V.107, sisi nyama; SACL.404.
You are the knife, I am the meat. [Or: we are the meat]
It is your pleasure, I am at your mercy. Complaining is useless, you are too powerful.


3427. Yai litakuwa juu, la mamaye kuku kuu. RSP.36.
The egg will be on top of its mother, the big hen.
The next generation will try and teach their elders. RSP.

Yai lina[m]shauria kuku. AL, yai.
The egg advising the hen.
An inferior giving advice to a superior.

3428. Yenu hunuka, yetu hainuki. REK.
Yours smells bad, ours does not smell evil.

Defensive Dating (A Short Story....) Read, Laugh, Enjoy.

Ok I was a little bit unnerved. The prospects of the next few hours loomed as long and as forlorn as a winter weekend in Outer Mongolia. I turned to survey the door one more time, sipped my drink, looked at my watch and fingered my tie. Yes son, you are uncomfortable. So how did I get here?

I did not fall into this blind dating thing by accident. If it was a crash, it can only be because I took to the wheels drunk as bat. I found myself suddenly at age 24, bored and lonely. The post apocalyptic and anticlimactic end of a once sizzling romance had left me hard and dry. The complete collapse of this platform while welcome, left me with a desperate case of the rebounds, I needed to find love and fast. Drastic situations beget drastic measures, I started calling up all my old flames.

Alas, unfortunately for me, while I was building my love castle of sand, much of that flame had been extinguished. The ones that were still somewhat burning gave off such a faint glow even the owners were confused if it was actually a fire or a reflection from another space heater they had just recently started using. Dejected and feeling a little useless, I took to clubbing, bar hopping, local events gate crashing, you name it. I was the guy smiling at all any and every lady. “A lonely Wang does not chose dance partners”, is what I always say and if my guy was any lonelier, it would a solitary whale in the Northeast Pacific. I complimented all the ladies on their shoes, scarves, hand bags, hair, and fingernail polish ETC. whatever, it did not work. That slightly deranged look of despair coupled with a strong whiff of desperation does not make for good attraction cologne I tell you, but I needed to get laid, and fast. So I joined a church.

At service on the first Sunday, I vigorously danced and clapped. I waited for the pastor to ask new members to step forward and be identified. When it looked like they might forget, I danced, clapped and shout my amens’ with even more gusto. I signed up for the “singles” prayer meeting, the Thursday bible study and Friday night vigils. But the harder I worshipped, the more I felt that it was not right, I was there for the wrong reasons, it was bad enough that my soul was lost but I could not led another sheep astray as well, so I quit the church. I joined a rightwing activist group.

Yep, from now on, I was anti government, anti immigration, anti anti. We held a weekly rally meeting at the local bar, the chicks were not my usual type but who was complaining? I just needed them to pull down their knickers once in a while in between hating the government, the Jews, the blacks, the low income leaches and migrant foreign workers. The fact that I fell into three of the five categories never worried anyone least of all me. This was about politics not personal gratification! I need my female comrades’ to feel my frustration, as often as possible, if possible let my frustration spend the night. So every week I showed up at this bar and we met. They bitched about everything and everyone, shouted slogans and then hit the boozer, heavy. But no matter how drunk everyone got, they still would not let go! It was 24/7 with these folks. For the love of God! when do they switch off? Nope this was a bad plan, socially conscious partisans no matter how misguided, made for bad bedmates. That was when I called my aunt Lizzy.

Now, Aunt Liz fancied herself as somewhat of a matchmaker. The fact that she was colorblind and this was not in the “I don’t see race” kind of way either, has never stopped her from trying to connect two disjointed souls at right angles. Why, just last summer she hooked up my blind cousin with a one legged stripper, and it seemed to be going well. I had always been Aunt Liz’s fave. She always gave me extra helpings of her home made pumpkin pie, i wish she would stop making pies, i wish she would start buying from the store again. She listened as I explained the situation to her, she made sympathetic noises and told me not to worry, she had my back. That was incidentally when I really started to worry.

ABJ

The plane dipped it’s wings around the hill and there it was, Abuja. It was still a growing little city with neither the sound and fury of Lagos nor the aggressive determination and hustle of Onitsha. Unique in its sense of self importance, it has grown considerably from its modest origins in a few amazingly short years. It has a culture that is entirely its own. In as much as Abuja believes its own inherent transformative powers, it still in awe of Lagos and that rare breed of indestructible humanity called Lagosians.

Few things make life more interesting than the unpredictability of sudden fabulous wealth, therein lies the entire premise of life in Abuja, you could go so far as to say that most people in the city live be the singular belief “anything can happen”.

Everybody believes that they are just one contract away from making into the big time, in a town where the 90% of the commerce is driven by government expenditure, it not inconceivable that a hard working hustler can go from zero to “I don hammer!” if they luck into the right government contract or become friends with people who are friends to people with the right contacts. Everybody believes; hopes springs eternal in this city. The only stories worth telling are legends of Titans whose empires seemingly sprung up over night. The myth of overnight success is a main stay here, it is what drives Abuja, here today, stinking rich tomorrow, baby.

Love the night life here though, there is nothing quite like eating a whole F*#&ing fish by yourself, it is just ridiculous the amount of time spent drinking beer, slurping goat head and generally living like chiefs. Yes, life here is one long display of conspicuous consumption after another. It is almost as if the primary aim each day is to lay waste to as much money as possible, probably in the mistaken assumption that somehow it will translate into respect; but then again, who is to say that it does not translate into envy?

There is an unspoken code to the wanton spending, roughly translated it would read something like “ I can spend like a crazy person all I want but please do not take me or my irrational binge behavior for granted”. The strength of relationships in Abuja is often based on the fact that people take everything at face value, there is neither the desire nor the inclination to delve deeper. Most times the “Efeezy” is all that matters, If you are spending recklessly it must be because you have it in excess, but somehow can’t possibly be true when everybody spends lavishly, all the time in ABJ.

Tangentially , how many people really have made it anyway? Americans have a saying “fake it, till you make it” Abuja has a lot of faking it, there is nothing wrong with admitting you are not there yet, but in a town where everybody wants to belong, few would admit to bellyaches even as the
grueling from their stomachs alerts the world to the true state of their finances. The culture of Oga this, Oga that, is so pervasive, everybody wants to be a movie star (i am using movie star as a euphemism for wealth) but nobody wants to be seen sweating to make it. Corruption is endemic in everything that is done in Abuja, every contract issued has kickbacks built into it, every service is overcharged but it is, what it is, a golden faux promise, still a growing city.

Bait and the fish.

His car rolled to a stop in front of me. He jumped out and strolled towards my direction. An engaging man with a hearty laugh, he laughed at everything. People would naturally gravitate to him; he spent with the abundant ease of someone who has always had money. There was a charm to his countenance that pulled you in; I imagined he was a lady killer.

I acted calm like I did this every day. Barely looking in my direction he handed me a bundle of notes in a wrapper. It was 10 large, I had never seen that kind of money before, I started to sweat lightly into my nightshirt. He was talking a lot, going over details, I was responding appropriately, I hoped. How was it possible to function on two totally divergent levels like this? Jeez, I was freaking the fuck out mentally but I was still holding what I think is a plausible conversation about the peculiarities of this transaction. I wanted to be left alone, to understand this moment, to wallow in the pleasure I felt from the tight bundle in my pocket. But I realized that any show of not having been here before would torpedo this, right here, right now. I could not let that happen, I have to continue to hold it together. He stopped talking briefly; looked me in the eye and asked if I was up to this? I reaffirmed that I was; and just like that he was gone. For a minute I stood there shaking, TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING, KIDDING ME!

I burst through the door, wood chips from the shattered door flew in all directions, huddled the coffee table, that was in the middle of the room, my eyes instantly scanning the large windows to my left. As my head started its sweeping arc towards the French windows, I knew instinctively that I was not alone, I could feel and hear the swishing sound of the club, and then an explosion hit the back of my head, just behind my left ear. I fall straight through, into the rising darkness without another sound. I slowly became aware of the light, my throbbing head seemed to be expanding and contracting too rapidly for me to be able to get my bearings, I try to deduce what was going on around me. The light was burning a hole through my eye lids, I could hear his voice in the background, calmly giving orders to someone , I try to focus on the source but the light is too strong, I can’t see past a couple of feet or so. Strangely what I feel is not fear or remorse but regret, I knew I was over, my train was pulling into its final station, the very last stop, on what has frankly been a disastrous journey.

03.10.2010

Somehow I always manage to lie down on the only needle in the haystack.

A confusing run of misfortune that just might be the result of severe lack of preparation on my part.

Or is it my extremely poor coordination, inaccurate forecasting or just plain dumb, bad luck.

Whatever the cause, I need to make adjustments quick or become a cautionary tale, another spent arrow that missed it’s mark.

I seem to have cornered the market on finding the delusional, a giant ball of unawareness walking around to the sound track from flash dance, completely out of tune to the world and the reality me.

No I am not angel but I also can’t seem to shake the feeling that in this game of cards, someone keeps dealing me hands from the bottom of the pile.

Every hand I play, is a high risk gamble.

No safe bets , it’s either all in or fold.

Like a dog chasing it tail, I just might be on a fool’s errand.

I need to redefine my universe or risk falling into the blackness of my own space.

I pray for peace, even as the storm in my soul braces for a hurricane.

Judge not, lest ye be judged even more harshly.