"We really don't give a damn N***a"

Despite the fact that we face the same institutionalized corruption, nepotism, unchecked cronyism and inbreed ineptitude that is causing North Africans to rise up in anger, I know the same can never happen in Nigeria. We are too busy waiting for crumbs to fall from the plates of our masters to realize that we too could get a seat at the table. The chains that hold us down and keep us in perpetual servitude; they are all mental. We seem unable or unwilling to unshackle ourselves from an acceptance of mediocre and inept leadership.

The average Nigerian is indifferent to government corrupt and abuse of power. Elected or appointed officials act as if the national coffers are their personal piggy banks and somehow this is accepted as way of life. I guess the assumption is if you are fortunate enough to have attained this (most times) underserved position in life, it is expected that you will act with reckless disregard of the laws of the land. The rich and the well connected continue to confuse the poor and the simple minded with innuendoes centered around religious, cultural, tribal and regional differences while they plunder the country, systematically striping her of every single asset. Every true Nigerian knows that we almost never gather to express anger or disappointment about the affairs of the country but we will organize a quick riot and kill dozens of innocents to settle perceive tribal or religious slights. WHAT IS WRONG WITH US, CAN’T WE SEE? Is it too much to expect that the people we have entrusted to run the country will do so without enriching themselves first, second and last?

The fear I have is that anarchic is never the answer to anything but then neither is doing nothing. We have never had a capacity to see beyond our own immediate and individual needs. The collective good is constantly being redefined as “collecting everything that is good for me and myself” we never worry about tomorrow, we have always been too busy trying to survive today. Every generation grows up accepting that we will always have erratic power supply, that highway robbers are a fact of life, That all roads come naturally with potholes, that clean water comes in a sachet, that the governor’s son will be a spendthrift, that most of the richest people we know at one time or the other, either worked for the government or are connected to people that did.

We continue to recycle the same old tired cadre of leaders whose bad ideas, unpatriotic service, and embezzlement started us down this road in the first place. I know politicians are not exactly known for being shining examples of ethnical or moral standards but ours have taken the words “corrupt politician” and made them principles to live and die by. The governing class continues to live below our expectations, regardless of how much we lower it. There is a reason Africa has 19 presidents who have been in power for 11 years or more, it is because we have convince them by our own inactions that it is what is best for our countries.

Season's Greetings.

Christmas is almost here, by now the goats are crying almost daily. Most of them know they will not see the New Year. Children run around with that air of anticipation, they are still too young to understand that that anticlimactic feeling from the actual dawning of Christmas morning, will be a lifelong odyssey into the unrequited love that is expectation. Most of us will receive gifts, much of which we could have done without. We will get gifts from loved ones, even from hated ones. Nothing makes an Ibo man happier than to throw away a perfectly good bottle of wine, just because “Mr Kanu is my enemy and you know that wine is poisoned”, em…, whatever.

Clearly, the Christmas season is a time for much cheer and merriment, the kidnappers are on holiday, some will even release a body part or two, so that the families can have something to hold on to. The armed robbers normally take a break around this time too to share their recent successes with their families. There is joy in our hearts, laughter in the air (mostly from all the alcohol we consumed) and everything is tinted with a rose colored hue, because we are too hung over to take off the sunglasses in the morning. It is a time when we can all monetize and quantify our affection in absolute terms. If you get an IPhone while your brother gets an IPad, you know you must be a stepchild (a lavishly compensated stepchild but still..,).

Family reunions are staple of this season, all those people you were hoping would not be there, will be there. Your renegade uncle with his bratty kids, your lesbian sister, of course you will be there, with your insufferable western habits and fake American accent. What a glorious time, as a child many of you remember all the numerous orgasms you had under the bed trying to force down your seventeenth piece of stolen hard fried chicken. Your jaw was numb but your belly was in a festive mood, good times indeed.


So let us celebrate Christmas with all it brings, the good (that wedding proposal that had been slow in coming), the bad (your cousin that just started driving having an accident with the 605 you borrowed money from the bank to buy) and the ugly (look on the face of your relatives after you inform them the airline said they will be delivering your luggage with all the presents.., on January 7th.) Remember the best thing about the Christmas season is that it will soon be over and you can go back to slaving over your computer again. BestBuy was very happy to have made your acquaintance.

Happy Holidays Everybody.., And stay away from hot Burukutu if you happen to be creeping around Television Village, it is especially potent in the afternoon.

Please Vote.., Thank You.

Sometimes  “we the people” is confused with “we the people, who give a shit”. As Nigerians, because we do not believe in the process, we tend to take ourselves out of the election entirely. There is no time when your right as a citizen of this country will be greater. We must exercise our right to choose. You must have a say in the type of government that will represent you.


Your right to vote should be precious to you when you are backing an underdog candidate, just as when your guy is a sure winner. Democracy is the greatest gift mankind has given itself. It is the only system of government that tries to create (and equate) equality amongst men via a singular act of civic duty. It is extremely important we participate in the registration drive, we must go out, get registered to vote. We must encourage our neighbors, friends, family, anyone whom we can reach. We must let them know, they must go out and register to vote.

Your vote, is you saying, “ this is where I stand”.

It says, “on this, my voice will be heard”.

The bane of corruption in our country cannot be used as a reason for apathy anymore. Americans say, you have to be in it, to win it. You can’t be complaining about the lack of decent roads, steady power supply, corruption, mismanagement, and all the various evil melancholies that bedevil our country without being involved. Today’s story is that a batch of newly arrived voter registration data machines have been stolen at the airport, which would have been funny, if it was not so tragic. Who steals voter registration machines except someone trying to register voters, abi? But we can’t let ourselves be defeated even before the bell was rung for the fight to begin.

The last INEC election timetable gave only 14 days for voter registration (voter registration will take place between January 15 and January 29). Considering the level of illiteracy in our country, this timetable to me could not have been engineered to encourage maximum participation from the populace. This is an incredibly short time for a nation of 120 million (or more) people to gather itself. But regardless of all that, please encourage everybody you know to go out and get registered to vote.

Who you vote for is your business, the fact that you voted is all our businesses.

Understanding Bose..

Bose: What are you looking at?

Jide: You na!

Bose: And why is that?

Jide: Because I like you na!

Bose: "Like ko', like ni". You this useless boy, won’t you go and find you level?

Jide: Please i am Sorry, I go mind business from now on.


Five Minutes Later
Amaka walks in and sits on the other side of Jide. He promptly starts staring in her direction.

Amaka: Jide, what is it?

Jide: You look so lovely this morning. I would love to take you out to lunch later.

Bose, jumps into the conversation: You this useless boy, now you want to take her out to lunch, five minutes ago you liked me.

Amaka: Jide, is this true?

Jide: You know, there is no pleasing you Bose. She said she does not want, yet she won’t let anyone esle take. Maybe it is because I did not ask her out to lunch.

Bose: Even if you asked me, I will not go with the likes of you.

Jide: Ok then, in that case please stop burning my cable. You do not want to be buried with the dead body yet you keep throwing yourself on the coffin.

Amaka giggling: Jide, ha, you are too funny.

Bose hisses turns, faces the other direction: Of course you will think he is “too funny” Ashewo.
Amaka: Eh? What did you just call me?
Bose: You heard me, “Ashewo”, “follow follow” “anything goes” “open yansh policy”, take your pick.

Amaka, gets up furiously, begins to tie her scarf around her waist: “Chineke kpo gi oku” "Amaze Oha finish your life", look at this worthless person calling me names? Can you believe the guts? She asks no one in particular.

Amaka: Listen to me very carefully. If you do not want me to expose you here & now, you better apologize or do you think everybody does not know you are an illegitimate child?

There was an audible gasp in the classroom, then a stunned silence. Bose’s eyes begin to well up, she gets up slowly…

Bose: What.., what did you just say? stammerring.

Amaka: YOU ARE A BASTARD, abi you no know? I can educate you.

Jide: Omo, this thing has gotten out of hand very quickly oh.

Gbenga: What did you say? I think sey you be master toaster? Do you see what you have caused?

Jibe: Gbenga this is all my fault, I have learned a valuable lesson here today.

Gbenga: And what lesson is that? He asks sarcastically.

Jibe: Never hit on Bose first. he says matter of factly.

Gbenga, incredulous: You are still talking about hitting on people, what type of animal are you?

Jide: What do you mean animal? If Bose had not cupped an attitude none of this would have happened.

Jide: Amaka, what time should I come get you for the lunch?

iWriter Needed.

I find that I don’t write as much as I used to anymore, which is unfortunate because I think that ultimately this is what I was called do. The ease with which one can start a multimedia publication online dictates that if I am ever to  “take my talents to south beach” this is a forum from which it could happen. There was various reasons for my recent run of “nothingness”, the chief of which is that I am completely bored by the process. The mental energy needed to create a story or an article of interest is of course mostly an artistic one but the science in the process dictates that if my aim is to generate a steady volume of work then i must have a formula. There has to be a method to the madness, otherwise all that is left just the madness. I find that the method bores me. Also, there is what I would describe as a veneer of laziness that also plays a part here. At the moment I write for fun, it is nothing more than a hobby, an unpaid labor of love, maybe even a vanity project (like any other artist, I live for the applause), but the aforementioned veneer covers all my efforts like a thick wet blanket and some days resistance has been very futile. Two hundred and twenty three words in, I bet you are wondering, em.., ok, so? I understand but bear with me, I will get to the point of this missive in a minute but first indulge me. I don’t get a chance to rant too often.

Now back to the reason for my furious typing, I have not been on Facebook recently as often as I used to but in returning to it, I have noticed a marked change in the content and comments folks are posting. In reading through, I realized that it is possible that people are not very cognizant of the amount of personal information that they are sharing with “friends”. Hey, I am not be a psychologist, sociologist, and any other kind of “ologist”, so I will refrain from trying to ascribe kitchen table generalizations and / or labels to the various status updates, side comments and cell phone self portraits from the resident photogs (by the way, is that the correct word? Should that word not be fotogs? But I digress). But it is hard not make assumptions based on the way people present themselves online. “ Judge not and you will not be judged”. Ok, sure.., so I will not judge. But still.., really? The easiest joke to write is the one that depicts others in a negative light; I think most people are filled with sanctimonious BS, the writer included. The ability to see ourselves as others see us is one that most of us just do not have. Educated people sometimes call this ability as being self-aware, however my experience has been that it is a thin line between self-awareness and low self esteem. Anyway, I assume that my updates are equally as illuminating to others, I probably have “friends” that routinely question my sanity. Thus my conclusion that yes it is true, we are all lame. The relative difference between us is only a question of degree. Which brings me full circle to the question of judging.

My dilemma is that as a writer without any true scope, area of expertise or even a defined audience I am constantly in search of a topic. The low hanging fruit exists right here, on Facebook. With all the updates, pictures and links, my missives could virtually write themselves. I have written things I regretted before, not because anyone said anything to me but because I intuitively suspected that I had crossed a line in the sand. I am not looking to repeat those experiences again and as such your posts are safe from my nagging, critical, conspiracy inspired, morbidly inquisitive, jaundiced eye. My plan is to take off this wet blanket, my problem is that everything is wet already and thus it maks no difference one way or another.

Check Your Ego At The Door

Rough estimates puts the value of all the gold in the world at at about 2 trillion dollars, since a majority of the world's currencies is backed by gold (to a degree), that means that there is a substancial disconnect between that figure and the GDP of the world which was estimated at 65 trilliion dollars in 2006. Where did all the extra trillions come from? A crate of eggs is only worth however much the market is willing to pay for it. In the 1900s, a dozen eggs sold of $.23; today a dozen eggs cost about $4.00. What happened? Is the chicken demanding more money of her eggs? While it is true that as the world's population grew, income and opportunity grow with it, the fundamental underlying factors remained the same. If you sold everything, you own today, how much are you worth? $1K, $10K, $100K or even a million Dollars? Whatever that number is, ask yourself this question, what exactly is a Dollar? It still takes the same effort to hoe a row of yams today that it took in 1960, then why are we paying more for the Labor today? If it truly were up to demand and supply, would the price of labor not be going down instead of up? The world has at least 10 times more available, trainable labor today than it had in the nineteenth century. Yet we are all earning more money than our forefathers could have ever dreamed of, doing virtually the same work. I would understand if this change in relative wealth was only happening in the US or China or even Nigeria but it is going on all over the world at the same time! If we are all stealing from each other, then why are we all getting rich? Where in God's name is the money coming from? This defies all the laws of commerce, we can't all be trading with each other and everybody is getting richer, somebody has to lose for the other to gain otherwise sometihng is most definately off kilter. John D Rockefeller and William H. Vanderbilt were probably the richest men in the history of the world ever! Neither of them ever made a billion dollars in their life times, yet Forbes.Com this year listed 1062 men and women with a networth of at least one billion dollars, what could have happened to create so much wealth, in such a short time? If you have, $1000.00 and i have a tuber of yam, which is more valuable? My yam has actual value and can fulfill a need, with your Dollar I have to agree that it is worth something to me, for it to be valuable. Maurice Greenberg was the 135th wealthiest American in 2007. His net worth was $2.8 billion. He was a former chairman of AIG. He recently sold 5 million shares for $3.77 per share, now he is just another millioniare. So was he really worth a billion dollars? or Was it our inflated valuation of his assets that was distorted? The point here is that we have taken to creating monoply money that is not backed an actual product, resource or service. Welcome to the derivatives culture, where if there is no demand, we create demand. Everybody is borrowing more, from everywhere, so that we can pay more, for everything. But where is all the extra money coming from? Idi Amin was famous for asking his Central Bank Governor to print more cash and I am afraid that in a round about way the world is paying him homage because everybody seems to be doing what he was doing all those years ago, wasting good paper.

The Tickle Down Economic Disaster

Trickle-down economics" and "trickle-down theory," is the economic-political argument that the increases in the wealth of the rich are good for the poor because some of such additional wealth will eventually trickle down to the middle class and to the poor. At least that is what it says in Wikipedia, Karl Max had theories that made more sense. The only thing that has tickled down is bad debt, maxed out credit cards, stagflation in commodities and a recession in the housing industry. Instead of the Mullahs at the top to let anything tickle out, they papered over all the cracks to prevent any possible leakage. Smart CEOs made sure that unemployment tickled down by constantly laying off workers to improve efficiency. Hedge funds controlling trillions of dollars speculated with glee on oil and we all watched as the price of a barrel of crude climbed from $17.00 to $150.00 per, while the resultant increase in the cost of gas tickle down to the masses. This tickle down nonsense, seems curiously familiar to this Nigerian, I knew I had seen it somewhere before; but I was not sure where? An economic environment in which the ruling class and their well connected friends, initiated a plan to rob the treasury and pass the burden of repaying the mess on the country while they themselves swiftly proceeded to retire to a life of luxury and great wealth? OH MY GUSH, it is the same thing IBB and Uncle Segun were doing to Nigeria all these years. Turns out that greed and corrupt is universal; and was not invented in Africa contrary to what you might have heard. So here we are, eight years into the most disastrous reign of ignorance, mismanagement and ineptitude, since the fall of the Holy Roman Empire, I can say with certainty that yes the hubris advanced by this culture's belief that “There is winning and then there is misery” has finally caught up with us. Despite the colossal failure that was the first four years of the bush administration (an administration that went to war just to juice up the economy), some bible touting, gay bashing, narrow minded, gun loving, right wing zealots masquerading as fiscally responsible conservatives decided that the first go around was so nice, that we had to have another go. So here we are, four more years later.

Righteous indignation

Do you know any colored people? Because I don’t. Largely ten years spent in the relative anonymity of quasi middle class America has thought me that only one truth is constant, blacks and whites live separate lives. We go to different churches, we worship differently, and we have different values while pursuing the same goals. We all aspire to a better life but differ strongly on our paths to that life, the generic certainty of suburban serenity will not be the lot of most inner city blacks. Where I can understand the fears of the average black person; poverty and random violence. I can’t really relate to fears of “keeping up with the Jones" and "Investing in the wrong 401K or IRA", when your present day is fret with immediate and present dangers you are less likely to be stowing away excess nuts in the eventuality of a long winter. Tragically, the farce that is race relations today is designed to guilt trip you into believing that all is well, after all we do have affirmative action and the civil rights bill to protect our constitutional rights. But you cannot legislate away prejudice, I can’t count how many times little white ladies jump back when I suddenly come around a corner despite the fact that majority of the perverse sexual misadventures visited on white women is by white males. I could vent on the hypocrisy of churches that supported segregation, then turned around and went on missionary trips to Africa to save the souls of the primitives in need of salvation. The religion is good enough for their souls but thier asses not good enough to seat in the same pews as a white person. According to a Justice Department report released in July 2003 about 10.4% of the entire African-American male population in the United States aged 25 to 29 was incarcerated, by far the largest racial or ethnic group—by comparison, 2.4% of Hispanic men and 1.2% of white men in that same age group were incarcerated. According to official data in 2000, there were 791,600 black men in prison and 603,032 enrolled in college. In 1980, there were 143,000 black men in prison and 463,700 enrolled in college. You see, the thing is that I know a lot of white people, we work together, go out together, root for the same teams and curse out the horrible economy and the evils of human indifference together. But I don’t consider them my friends, because of the same reasons people worry when they sight someone wearing a turban on a plane since 9/11, you just don’t know what their intentions are.

Sometimes i feel like a nut.

I recognize that I have a huge problem, I am not a phone person. I cannot count how many calls I have avoided, the worst part is that most times there is no good reason not to take the call. Thinking about the situation recently, I started to examine my problem very closely and I began to see certain patterns emerge, and things began to make some sense. It was not the calls that I was afraid of, it was the consequences of the calls.


Most people I know will call when they are the airport, or when they are about to hit the highway on an 8-hour journey. You pick up the phone and they are like; “Edu boy! wetin they happen? I am on my way to Alaska, na him I sey make I call you make we gist small”. I immediately begin to panic! You see I am not good with cutting people off, since the person calling you has nothing but time on their hands, I could be on the call until they get to Alaska.

Then there are those calls (even with good friends) where the conversation just dies a premature death, you start out very eagerly, quickly rushing from one breathless update to the next and then out of nowhere a dry spell hits, there is a lot if em....yeah...., so what's up...., ….you just dey enjoy..... followed by long uncomfortable silences, mixed in with heavy breathing. Nobody knows how to end the torture, everybody is ashamed of stating the obvious, this call is finished.

Phones follow you everywhere these days, even to places where it should not, like the bedroom and to board meetings. The relative convenience of being reachable has turned into a heavy burden of proof problem. People see you and there is this accusatory tone to their voice, "Dude, I called you and you did not pick up" why don't you ever answer your phone?" Feeling like a naughty student at the principle's office, I stand there sheepishly staring at the floor, doing my best to explain why I did not answer the royal summons. This is a problem my parents did not have to encounter because their phone were tied to their houses and offices. Although on the plus side I could be at home, doing nothing but chilling and somebody that I had earlier promised to help move would call and I would be like "Man, sorry I forgot, ... yes I am currently in Lagos, I will talk to you when I get back... you see; problem solved.

The situation is such that even routine calls make me worry these days. You see, if my phone flashes and my boss is calling me, I don’t like it, there is not reason why that man should be calling me, I am not his friend, so except I have been fired that number should not be showing on my phone on a Sunday. If my friend is calling, I begin to worry, it is either because he needs something or I owe him something, either way there is no reason why he should be calling me on Sunday. If my madam is calling, I breakout in a cold sweat, I cannot see what is so important she has to calling me at 2.00 AM on Saturday night when I am in the office working.

The undecided

“I don't want to talk, Wait I feel like a chat.


I need to get up But I want to lie down.

T-shirt or jumper? I've changed my mind I'll wear a shirt.

I want to stand up, No I want to sit down, oh dear, I'm even indecisive about the chair.

I've got myself in to a state my life is ruled by a split decision.”



(a poem of unknown origin, from an author that never published.)

The Audacity Of Hope.

There are very few events in your life were you remember exactly where you were at the exact time it happened, I have been fortunate enough to experience two of them. The first was September 11th 2001, at about 9.00 AM, I was coming off the E train from Queens, my stop was the Times Square station on 42nd and 7th, I was late and in a hurry to get to work, but on that day there would be no work. The whole of New York City appeared to be transfixed watching the giant TV screens surrounding Times Square, I made to ask the guy next to me what was going on, but before I could say a word, the second plane came into view of the cameras and we all watched, transfixed, as the plane flew straight into the second tower of the World Trade Center, there was a loud gasp as if a million people collective sucked in air, then a quietness (not silence but a stillness, like church) for a nano second it was like the world stopped, and then all hell broke loose. I write this not to revisit 9/11 but to explain how engraved the details of that day are in my mind, I could write a book of the events of that day alone, from the glassy eyed look in peoples eyes, to the wild rumors spreading like forest fire about alien invasions, even the trek out of New York City that day was epic. But I am getting side tracked; the second time was of course last night.




The unfathomable event that unfolded last night, will carryover into the lives of generations yet to come. That the black grandson of a goat herder from Kenya, raised by a single white mother on public funds without the “proper” connections could compete and prevail against historic odds is a story of biblical proportions. The is a uniquely American story, those of us from Nigeria know this intimately, it could not happen were we are from. In Nigeria, the same ruling class of has more or less held the country hostage for almost half a century, the chances that a “nobody” will rise out of the dirt without the aid of machine guns and flak jackets to preside over the affairs of our nation is slim to none. The euphoric joy that was felt around the world (My Mother is a Obama fan and for the past few months it’s been Obama this, Obama that, the woman lives in Kaduna and has not been to the States since 1992.) resonated in my house, I have not slept a wink, I will one day tell my children about the greatest election of my generation and the belief that it installed in me, Yes we can, Yes we can.

What do you believe?

Relax; I am here to seek enlightenment, not to pontificate. To ask questions that always bothered me, not to cast shadows over your beliefs. I have friends that are saved, people with strong feels about their faith and its place in their lives but I have always wondered, what does it all mean in the end? I am not sure what I believe or not (I know, I could have written that differently but try to stay focused). I know that as soon as man was able to process cognitive thoughts he started to ask questions about his place in the big scheme of things. Christians believe what they believe and there are about one billion Moslems that will beg to differ, so assuming everybody is right to a degree where does that leave God? Somewhere today a deeply religious person probably passed away but tonight another deeply religious person will pray, “Thank you God for sparing me and my family”. Is the prayer not really saying “better him than me”? We read in the papers everyday where another Iraqi family was decimated by an errant missile and we casually flip over to the next page, and I know it is not because you don’t care or that you don’t wish them well. I am conflicted as to what is I believe, blind faith like the type a child has for the mother regardless of whether or not she is an irresponsible mother or a drug addict has been hard for me to accept. I used to pray and I believed all my prayers were answered, but that had nothing to do with anything. I know some pretty awful people who have been blessed with even more good fortune, so obviously they must be praying too.Am I asking for too much to want to know the why, when and how? Shouldn’t I just wrap religious rituals (for Christians, Sunday church and mid-week worship and for Moslems the five daily prayers) around myself like a warm blanket and assume I am protected from the chill of an aimless existence. Somehow, I think most people are not much concerned with finding the right way, just as long as it is their way, Moslems are right, Christians are right, same goes for Hindus, Buddhists AND EVERYONE ELSE. Maybe what I asking is, even if there isn’t a divine design to the affairs of man, don’t we have to believe that there is one anyway to keep us from being even more inhuman to one another? Seriously, if you have a plausible way of looking at this, I would like to hear it.

2008, The Year In Review - Buzz Words and Phrases

This year the news has been dominated by two events, the election of Barack Obama and the collapse of the global economy. As such, majority of the words that became commonplace around the water cooler originated from them. Certain words and phrases have so ingrained themselves into our everyday vernacular that we accept them as fact even though we have no way of knowing if what they connote is the truth. One such phrase is “Liberal Elite Media”, made popular by Fox News and Sarah Palin, it was used to imply a bias by the mainstream press for a democratic or liberal agenda; the combination of the words liberal and elite being used to imply that the media was out of touch with the pathos of the ordinary citizen. While a clever play on words, it does leave you asking the question; “liberal elite media” as opposed to what? The “regular liberal media” or is there a “conservative elite media” out there somewhere? Either way here are some other words and phrases that we became overly familiar with in 2008.


Stimulus Package – This is a special package prepared by the wife whenever she needs to stimulate your spending and boost her economy. While the package contents maybe vary, they always include some combination of welcome home kisses, elaborately prepared (and served) dinners, special treats in the inner chamber and a quiet request made at the exact point when you are thanking God for your good fortune.

Change - Change we can use, especially when trying to buy pour water on Eko Bridge from a moving car. The change we need, we usually cannot find and we are forced to break a fifty just to buy yogurt. Change that is necessary, for parking meters in order to avoid getting a ticket.


Web 2.0 – Unlike Web 1.0, which brought us useful stuff like Yahoo email, AOL instant messenger and CNN, Web 2.0 is entirely devoted to time wasting with useless tools like Facebook, YouTube and Twitter.

Bailout – Used in reference to getting your good for nothing uncle out of jail. Could also be used to reference your technique for exiting your girlfriend’s house when her father returns unexpectedly back in the day.

Financial Meltdown - Refers to the melting of your saving account and net worth like ice- cream, in fact if your cone gets soggy watch out, even your small remaining cream will vanish.

Financial Tsunami – This is the avalanche caused by millions of ice-creams melting at the same time, like any other regular tsunami it will leave millions drenched in debt and devastation. We continue to mourn the passing of Bear Stearns and The Lehman Brothers, they will be missed.

Fannie and Freddie – This refers to the gay couple living down the street. They are very unreliable; and will flake on you if you invest in them. They do not work but have very rich parents and therefore throw money around as if it is nothing. But because they are always sending everybody gifts, they are beloved despite their flaws.

Credit Crunch – It is the crunch you feel when the shopkeeper tells you cheerfully “Your card has been decline”. A good credit crunch can be hard to digest, like undercooked steak it does not go down easily, especially if you have already committed to that big screen TV or maybe the In-laws are coming but your bank account is bone dry.

Maverick – A maverick is that person who can‘t do anything right but is given a free ride because “that is just who they are”. A maverick is allowed to have multiple positions on every topic, some of them at the same time. They are normally for small Government until they are against it.


Derivatives or Credit Default Swaps – Shady deals given to those who know the secret handshake or at least the secret knock. It is akin to someone else (no relation of yours whatsoever) taking out an insurance on your life. Tell me why they will not do you in and collect on the policy?

Working Class – Along with the Sleeping Class and the Watching Class make up the population of the United States.

Working Class Whites – Uniform worn by the most self righteous amongst the working class.

RBS or Royal Bank Of Scotland – unlike the common bank of Scotland, this one is quite useless at banking, it is staffed by Oxford and Cambridge grads, while they know nothing about banking, they are excellent at foxhunting and horseback riding.

Subprime – This is a new species of the human race. Since they were discovered, they have been instrumental in sending the world economy into a state of cardiac arrest. These lowly creatures have a terrible history of savings and an even worse history of paying bills. How anyone came to become a “subprime” anything is beyond me but from everything I have heard they are horrible people and they should never be allow to own anything.


Foreclosure – This happens after the bank has sent you like two thousand notices and have still not received the check you said you mail back June. In fact it is happening so frequently that in some areas, banks are having foreclosure parties where everybody can come hangout, turnover their keys and trash the house, good times I tell you.

Surge – A feeling you and your spouse enjoy in the privacy of your bedrooms. Obama was said to have surged to victory on election night, and from the smile on Michelle’s face, I think it might have been true.

The Detroit Big 3 – Three old men from Michigan, last spotted begging for alms in DC.

Global Warming – Which is not to be confused with Global Re-heating, global warming is much gentler, and you hardly know it is occurring. Like leaving an ice cube out in the open, eventually all you will have is a puddle of water, by then we should have all grown gills.

Obamamania – A state of delirium suffered by Africans everywhere, it is characterized by irrational hope and belief in the abilities of an American president.

Affluenza – A strain of Influenza that makes people chase affluence, to the death if necessary. It is an incurable condition, normally associated with the sacrifice of dignity, friends and scrupulous.

Cloud Computing – A technique for handing over all your secrets and sensitive company data to unknown people somewhere. It has been known to cause severe headaches if you do not have internet connection at the moment of need.

Lame Duck – Served with humility and plenty of regret.

Yes, we can – But what if we can’t? Alternatively, we tried and we couldn’t? Or what about a safer, sure we may?

Chinglish – The Chinese version of Spanglish, only not as cute.

Joe The Plumber - A description for self-promotional day workers suffering from delusions of grandeur.

Swing State – An alternative life style state where swingers are welcome, like California.

Nomophobia – this is the fear you experience upon jumping into your car and half way to work remember that you left your cell phone on the dresser. Despite the fact that nobody has call you on your cell at work in the past five years, you still turn the car around, because for some reason you just have to have your phone with you. This is also known as obssesive compulsive most have phone at all times disorder.

Ninja Loans – Loans taken out by men with years of training in evading loan repayments. These highly trained operatives have the ability to vanish into thin air with all the equity in a property, they have special skills used in drawing down all active lines of credit, securing second and third mortgages on properties; and persuading appraisers to inflate the value of a property by 300%.

Half And Half

To most people, the half-full or half-empty question relates to whether a person tends to be pessimistic or optimistic in their views of events. I always tended to believe that the question was a lot more fluid than the answers it tended to generate. In the course of an ordinary day, anyone can swing from one to the other. Generally and curiously, I find that people tend to be more glass half full (optimistic), after a tragedy or an event where the loss or the outcome could have been worse. For example if armed bandits rob you, you are thankful that they did not shoot you. On the other hand, when you enjoy some good fortune but you feel like the outcome could have been better, your outlook is generally half-empty.




The game show “Deal or No Deal” uses this quirk in people to ensure that 80 percent of their constants walk out of there losers. You see, winning a VW when there was the possibility you could have won a Benz, leaves most people with a sense of loss regardless of the fact that neither vehicle was a guaranteed get when they started out. The other curious thing about the way we view events, is that our views of our own fortune is colored by the relative good or bad fortune of other people. Watching the Joneses get richer would give most people a perpetual glass half full view of life even if you are not doing too badly yourself. Basically; we allow someone else’s circumstances to distort our view of our own self worth and most times this is without knowing the mitigating reasons for the other person’s success.



This displeasure could usually carry over into the all other areas of ones personal life, even into areas were your lot really is good, like marriage or your job or your friendships. To get clarity and to be able to balance out how we view things we will need to undergo a true paradigm shift (a change of position so profound, relative to our original position as to completely change our interpretation of events).



Experiences like finding God or surviving a truly harrowing experience tends to leave a lasting change in people where they are always thinking they are blessed. NBA basketball great Tracy Mcgrady returned from a trip to Somalia, with a completely new understanding to the words misery and hopelessness. For him, someone, who always thought that the worse that could happen was growing up poor and black in America, he experienced a paradigm shift that things could have been be a lot worse.



Here are some answers to the question Half Full or Half Empty? From Wiki answers

• Answer: Neither, It is always full. It may be filled with 50% of water and 50% of air, or any variation of competing percentages, but it is always full of something even if it looks empty, as it could be FULL of air.

• Answer: That is relative. Depends whether you are drinking or pouring.

• Answer: Logical point of view, the cup is half-full. A glass cannot be half-empty because half of nothing is still nothing.

• Answer: I think that the cup being half-full or half empty can and should both be looked at as positive viewpoints. For even if the cup is half-empty you have taken in half and you yourself are half-full. So in one sense (half full) you have more to consume, and in the other (half empty) you have consumed already a part of what there is.

• Answer: In Yorkshire they'd say the glass was too blummin' big

• Answer: I do not know how in the first place this could even be asked since your glass was empty to begin with, then it is logically half-full. HOWEVER, if you have filled your glass and drank half of it then it is half-empty so, you can not answer this question without knowing if the glass was completely full before you have stumbled upon it

Free Flow - In The Moment

Free form writing also known as stream-of-consciousness writing - can be used in order to clear the mind of half thoughts, actions, inactions, truths and half-truths. You go where your mind takes you and follow that thread as far along as it will take you, but branching off on the smallest of impulse. I started out by writing about resolutions and the New Year, wondering why people bother making “New Year Resolutions” when they know it will not be kept? Life altering changes are made not based on dates but events, in fact, it would be better to make New Year Restitutions (Resolution; defined: a firm decision to do something or hold firm to a belief, Restitutions defined: the return of something to the condition it was in before it was changed). Rather than a resolution to make new friends, how about making a restitution, by making up with a friend were the relationship has gone sour? Or rather than a resolution to give more to charity but instead make a restitution by returning anything you gained by wrongful means last year? It has a handle and an actual target and moreover it is bigger than just you.

Speaking of the New Year, this year all I am eating is fish, not that I particularly like fish but I have been convinced that fish contains Omega 3 oil (whatever that is) and that this oil unlike palm oil is good for me. Intellectually you can file this under the same heading as “vitamins improve your health”. For years they were supposed to be good for you, only recently the “know it alls” have changed their minds and decided that vitamin supplements do nothing for your health and are really just a waste of money since most people get all the Vitamins they need from their food anyway.

So with all the time in the world to make adjustments to your life, why would you choose the New Year? If you are in a plane flying across time zones it is possible to celebrate the incoming year 12 times in one day. Does the whole time zone thing make sense to you? Even cities on the same longitude are sometimes not even in the same time zone, the further west you go the less sense it makes. I know that LA should be at least 6 time zones away from NYC and not the current four, so how did they come by the four that we currently use and what happened to the other two? The thing I love most about LA are the freeways, I mean if not for the astronomical cost of living in that city, there is no better place to live on earth. The weather, the people, the topography and the malls are all to die for (except of course you live in Mahe, then in that case Na You Win). When I was in LA I experienced my first earthquake, believe me, if you have never been in one, there really is no way to describe the feeling that runs through you when the ground you are standing on begins to move, you immediately begin to understand how insignificant you are in context to everything else around you.

But I am are work now, second day back since the New Year, and I am not sure what to make of anything, I mean, are we in a recession or not? Everything feels the same, I am not really making anymore or less this year, than I did last year but for some reason I am extra tight with cash. Maybe it is all the doom and gloom being peddled on the TV or it is the fear that you don’t control your own faith as long as you are someone’s employee. I mean I would like to start my own show but I find myself a slave to the system, I truly am trapped in the matrix, Even if they pay me $500K a year, it is only because I am making $5M or more, a year for them. Ultimately it means that I have the skills to make $5M a year but I settle for the small cheese because I would rather be feed than bear the initial hunger it would take to free myself while searching for my own cheese.

I find that I am easily distracted, not ADD distracted but quickly convinced by extenuating factors to follow the next thought in the conga line of things running through my mind….. hmm, I wonder what will happen if I baked my Loafers?

Would You Like Some Coffee?

Old that is the word that comes to mind about London, along with other words like gray, and“no F’ing way that thing cost ten Pounds!”. I spend sometime in England last week and discovered my inner economist. After the first day, and that showboating display at Tiger Tiger in Cardiff, all spending became on a “need to survive bases only”, plus fortunately but unfortunately at time, I lost my credit card and was naked for the last day of the trip. Funnily enough, for a trip that started out on a disastrous note, it was extremely fulfilling in the end and I would not have traded the experience for $2500.00, maybe $3000.00 but definitely not for $2500.00.

The time was about 4.45 PM last Tuesday, I was in a dead hurry, I had to do some last minute shopping, I needed to close a few loopholes since I was travelling the next day. In my haste, I did not pay attention to the road and broadsided this pickup truck that swing into my lane from the left. That stopped me cold, “Ok wetin man go do now”? “where you sey you dey hurry go again?” Initially rhetorical questions were shooting through my mind like laser beams, then logic kicked in.

I called 911, checked on the other car, called the insurance company, scheduled a tow and a rental. The police came, compared my blackness and the other guy’s whiteness, noted that I was an IgboAmerican and after some consultation with a tape measure, told me I was at fault. At which point, the driver of the other car started limping and his lady companion requested a stretcher. I found it all mildly amusing but I still had so much to do and that plane was leaving for the UK tomorrow whether I was on it or not, so I did not have time to pander the irony of a Nigerian being scammed by an American, I had loads of things to do.

The next day I had my first pleasant experience of the week, I picked up my loaner and it was a Toyota Prius, it was my first time driving a Hybrid and I tell you, there is nothing quite like that car on the road. First it is completely silent, not an “I can’t hear my engine when I drive my Lexus silent” but a dead quietness like a super efficient air-conditioning unit, it was eerie. The difference between the car off and the car on was……nothing. The if the car had been named Dell or HP, I would have concluded that this is how it felt to drive a computer. Speaking of cars, do you know that GM’s Opel/Vauxhall Unit in Europe makes a 49 miles per galleon wet dream of a car that they have refused to sell in the US because they think we are satisfied with the very mediocre Chevrolet? I rolled around London in one these cars and was extremely impressed with the ambiance in the vehicle, it is not a luxury car by any means but in the mid level family sedan market, it would have easily competed with a Honda or Camry on a level playing field.

Anyway, so I got my Prius, by now it was about 3.00 PM and I had to get to the airport before my 5.00 PM flight, so I rushed home and started pouring stuff into the first box I could lay my hands on. I anticipated all kinds of weather during my four day stay, so I packed for winter, spring and summer. I jumped back into the car and stopped…….. I could not start the car, you see, at the rental place they had shown me how to drive the thing and some other stuff but I was not paying attention, I was in a hurry to get home, to start packing. Trust me, even the most sophisticated person would have been temporarily stump by the ignition concept in this car.

Long story, short, I barely made it to the airport (yeah, about that Hybrid, I called my friend to come and drop me off, since I “did not have a car”) on time. I breezed through checking, got on the plane, closed my eyes to catch a shutter, woke up to the Pilot saying “we will landing at Heathrow Airport shortly”. Wow, I must have slept through 10 hours of flight of time, but all the better, I was energized, ready to enter this Jungle and cause some major Wahala. From here this tori gets thick, yes, let me slow down and gather my thoughts, I want to lay this down like fresh bread on Sunday morning in the dinning hall, this will be worth the wait.

All ebb, no flow......

The footsteps follow me everywhere, creep by creepy creep, all around the house. I am not afraid of them, I am resigned to the shadows hovering around me. Looking out through the window, I notice the grey light of an early dawn, there is a sadness about this morning but I refuse to address the source of this vague malaise I am experiencing. I walk sleepily into the kitchen and start a pot, for I must have my coffee. The feeling of performing everyday tasks, the routine itself is comforting, like a warm blanket in a cold room. Slowly my brain is stirring awake, coming on full blast like an express train pulling into the station, I know subconsciously what will arrive on that train, it’s the same footsteps that has been following me all around the house, all morning. There it was, I am wide awake, there is no escaping it now, everywhere I look, it stares back at me, in big black unflinching letters; MICHAEL JACKSON DEAD AT 50! How exactly am I going to spend the rest of my day?


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Thought currently renting space in my head….

I often find myself wondering about the nature of the true relationship between Alhaji Sir Ahmadu Bello and Sir Abubakar Tafawa Balewa. Though both men shared much in common including fact that they both attended Katsina Teacher's Training College, were both killed on the same day, for the same reason, by the same group, they could not be more different. Politically they appeared to the every much aligned, both were “pro northern” in everything but yet entered into an alliance with the Pan African Nnamdi Azikiwe and not the more tribal centric Obafemi Awolowo. At the very least, there should have been some resentment from the “commoner” Balewa, that despite the fact that he was the prime minister he still had to answer to the blue blooded regional head, who appeared to be more interested in becoming the Emir of Sokoto than in becoming the head of the young nation.




By the time of the ‘66 coup, which funnily enough was staged by a group of a delusional nationalist group of southern soldiers, the relationship between the NCNC and NPC was virtually non-existent. One would presume that the more intellectually minded Balewa would see the writing on the wall, have known that his continued position of influence depended on the continuation of the partnership with one of the other two major parties since the regional position of authority was not up for debate. I think of the dichotomy that such a complex power sharing model such as theirs would have presented. The friction that their relationship would have created is endlessly fascinating to me, two men of near equal education with similar backgrounds in politics but distinctly contrasting social economic backgrounds trying maintain an equilibrium. The chorography in that dance must have been knife’s edge. Either, from lack of foresight or disinterest, it is almost impossible to get a sense of these two individuals as human beings, writings and historical documentations, barely hint at personalities or any other individualist traits that would have served as a clue of who they were or how they managed their day to day interactions. Reading with a magnifying glass between the lines, there is an assumption that Sir Bello was the Alpha dog of the relationship but was this through natural selection or more akin to a political ascension based on a privileged birth?

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The Mark

Walking around with my hands in my pocket. I stopped to admire my shoes. I looked around to see who was watching, not spotting anyone, I proceeded to draw attention to my Bruno Maglis’ by stumping my foot hard on the floor like I was trying to kill a an armored plated roach. I smiled to myself as if enjoying a private joke, tugged on my Evisu jeans to better display my Lacoste belt, yes I was dressed to the nines and feeling myself like you would not believe. I walked into the bar, tossed my Armani jacket on the back of the chair next to mine, loosed my Oxford old school tie and asked the bar lady for a double shot of Remy Martin Louis XIII. Heck, you only live once and I knew how to do it in style. I checked my Tag Heuer, I still had about fifteen minutes to kill before my mark got here, I thought about messing with the bar lady but she was kind of plain, so I decided that it is a bad idea. I pulled out my Blackberry, checked to see if I had a strong enough WIFI signal, and started tapping on the screen with my stylus. The Mark walks in all shifty eyed and swivel headed, he does a quick scan of the room and begins to head in my direction, this was going to be easy. A smile like the rising of the sun spreads across my face as I extend my hand and in my best Barry White baritone I introduce myself, “Prince Clairplate Nwachopchop”, I say, “glad to finally make your acquaintance in person after these months” “ I feel like we are practically friends” “What is your poison?” Remy? Scotch? He swallows hard and in a thin voice, declines my invitation. He seemed to be in a hurry to get it over with and I could not be happier. I order two more cuts of the Remy, I pulled out a wad of $100.00 bills and with great theatrical flair proceeded to overpay and over tip the bar lady, out of the corner of my eye I could see his eyes bulge at the sheer size of my stack. We retired to a secluded part of part of the bar, I quickly go over the story once again with him, explaining about the trust fund and the difficulties I was having with coming up with the full actualization and monetization fees. I reassured him once again, that with our 60/40 split he could be sitting on a beach in Ibiza, sipping on Pina coladas by this time next week. He appeared to calm down a little, he told me he had heard about all these Nigerian scam artists duping people out of their money but he could tell that a royal prince such as myself was the real deal and he felt privileged to have this opportunity. He started to go into a monologue about his family, his pregnant wife and how he had to mortgage everything to come up with the funds but I was barely listening. I smiled broadly and made sympathetic noises and I tell him that his bravery will be rewarded, “imagine the smile on the missy’s face when you come home with a string of pearls?” I say to him. I was getting impatient, I ask him if he has the bank check we had talked about, he said yes. I ask to see it, he fumbles about in his breast pocket for a second and hands me the check. I look it over, it appears to be in order, I begin folding the check and his next words had me sitting stock still, every single muscle frozen in place. With heart pounding and mind racing, I try to decide if I really heard him right, I beggg your parrrdon? I stammer, “Mr Chopchop, you are under arrest” he said, in his left hand he was holding an FBI badge.

9jia Could Be Home

I live in exile in a strange country, surrounded by strange people speaking in strange tongues. I visit my home country the way Yankee tourists visit the Riviera, two weeks at a time, once a year. I only stay two weeks; because even my nostalgia is no match for the fear at the pit of my belle every time I am offered a glass of “pure water”, or the way my friends catapult from the back to the front of the car when I am forced to take evasive maneuvers to avoid giant holes in the middle of the highway. My time at home is always short, I am always in a hurry to return to this my new found land where I have chosen to hide myself. My shame runs deep, like the pools of mosquito infested stagnant water at the village, I cry at night from the pain that I know is somewhere being inflicted on the unlucky and the targeted by heavily armed thugs that own the darkness and the streets after 8.00PM. Somehow despite a GDP of $147 billon, the scream of the dying grows stronger by the day, you see my country is host to the silent curse of the big disease with the little name and unknown cure. Medicine cabinets are stocked full of fake drugs dispensed by unlicensed pharmacists and powerful priests claim to cure all kinds of illnesses by lays hands on people’s head. I internalize my sorrow a lot , when I am at home I can’t call my friends, I barely have any minutes and even when I do the South African company that owes my cell line is charging me 40 times what normal people would pay for the same service anywhere else in the world. There are plenty of others like me, we hang around the nice parts of this make belief place, wear fancy clothes and pretend to be something we are not, Americans. Everywhere I look I see doctors, lawyers, engineers, architects, artists, artisans, bankers, accountants all like me, lost souls trying to find a new meaning in Diaspora. The brave have abandoned their culture and left their heritage and history to be described by the lives of the unfortunate, the greedy, the unscrupulous, and the lost. I want to find outrage in my heart but my soul is empty, I have drained all my tears and my eyes are like hollow dark pools of black coal. The possibility that I will one day return to my homeland permanently is remote, you see I have broken bread here, my children will be born here, they will call this land home and refer to that distant place with the rich dark brown soil and the canopy of a thousand year old giant Udala trees as Africa.