It's only a number T.Notes...

I'm abit melancholic right now. Also knackered and seriously needing the bed after an early morning shift. But i need to put down this note just for me,and hey maybe you too.

Two things happened today that had to do with random digits. The first happened as i woke up by 3am and began an hurried preparation to get to Tesco for an early morning shift. On my way rushing out of the flat,i realized i'd forgotten to confirm that my staff i.d card was in my bag. #Dang!I need the i.d card because it has my staff i.d code which i need to access entry doors and get work done. But i was running late,so i took a moment to recall the number i'd been punching in frequently for the past year.I figured i had a good idea of the number,so i rushed off to work without checking for the i.d card. I got to work and indeed i had the number memorized quite right. I keyed into the building and work for the rest of the morning was a breeze. When my shift ended, i clocked out and left the building. It was afterall,only just numbers, 6digits to be precise.

I got home tired and found the mail i'd been informed should come in today. It was a huge package from the office,canary wharf.

It had inside P45&46 forms, information about my options on employee benefits&investments, annual bonuses, itinerary for a posh induction week, whom i would speak to on my first day in the office, stuff about company gadgets - mobiles,laptops,etc. And at the very top of the letter was the important detail i'd also been expecting. A six digit number which would grant me staff access into the towering bank's building. I didn't do my signature "whoop whoop holler" or scream.I only heaved a sigh of relief and called the number i was directed to call to set up an employee bank account for me. The lady on the other end was friendly and asked calmly: "Can i get your staff i.d please?" I looked up the 6digits on the top of the letter and recited it. She responded, "Perfect. Welcome to xyz Bank T.Notes". She then proceeded to set up the required ish and ooch in preparation for my first day. It was afterall,only just numbers, 6digits to be precise.

Did i ever mention that the Bank also sponsored a new work visa application for me? They handled all the documentation,paid for it and sorted it all out. All i did was reply their mails and send them my passport. This is the quiet:...I'm only just a guy,you know. That's what I said to myself in the mirror this morning knowing fully well that might have been my last day at tesco. "Why are so good to me? I'm really truly just a screwed up,messed up guy who's struggling to keep it all together.". I know people who've been here longer than me and are still struggling to find even a part-time job. And look at me and and my big head totally jumping all the red tape and processes.

God blesses us for a reason...i know my reason and my cross. Its like how those old cartoons used to say, "with power comes great responsibilities.". I fully well know that. But all the same...i'm really only just a guy. But a new day is ahead,and i'm not kidding myself to think its all going to be a stroll in the park. I still have hard prayers yet unfulfilled and You should see the caliber of Cambridge, UCL and LBS guys (n ladies) Smart ass dorks,&jocks the bank also took up!BUT GAME ON, BRING IT ON!This Naija no dey carry last!
I used to work with a Nigerian chic back in Tesco who's now booked a flight back home for september. In her own bitter words, "The U.K has nothing to offer international students.".I disagree. And its not just about the U.K or brains. Its the God behind it all. So like supercool neefemi, i pray for everyone who has a similar need to which i had. I pray not just that your needs are met, but they are met with a testimony that will astound anyone who hears it. God bless you...God never fails, hang on, and DO EVERYTHING TO MAKE THAT DREAM HAPPEN. IT IS POSSIBLE...afterall, i am just a guy, who's switching from Tesco's 6digit staff i.d, to XYZ's automated staff access PIN.

...One of my Fav worship songs,because of the deep story behind it, how how he breaks down midway in the song. The song was inspird after he lost his best friend, but still...God.


Oh,if you wanna hear the story of the song:

A love that celebrates weakness,and is true to God....i think that's what counts the most.

These oyinbo people will just be vexing someone sef!!!

From my part-time work:
(1st thing in the morning)
Our records indicate that you did not attend your confirmed shift at Tesco High Street on xxxth August and did not inform us of this. You now have a 'No Show' on your file. Please reply within 24 hours advising of any extenuating circumstances or errors on our part or you will be issued with a Feedback Report and further action will be taken.

Regards,

xxx

My Prompt reply:
Abeg, go and hug transformer jare!!!

No dey vex me today, i am not in a good mood! Ehnn, somebody no fit sleep forget come work again?! Abeg, go and die jare!!

Kind regards

T.Notes



My real reply:

Hello xxx

Thanks for your email......blah blah blah.....



By God's grace,i should start my proper LondonBigBoy Job next month and all these ass-kissing for a GCSE Certificate holder will reduce. But seriously,i'm vexed!!!

How i became the inglorious basterd that i am.

I spoke to a friend today and my heart felt like lead - out of sadness for him, and as a result of the buried emotions within me i'd long tried to stifle. But today it all came out like a dam overflowing its ugly banks, as i remembered all that made me the basterd i have become today.


7 years ago and some heated words still never heal. You can only disown a child once and its best done on his 20 something birthday.
Mother: It's either you choose this family, or that girl! Let me know your choice today!
T.N: (Quiet)
Mother: So you will not let her go?
T.N: (Quiet)
Mother: Then, You are not my child! It's your life, do it as you wish!
T.N: (Quiet)

The arguments were replayed every single day. Looking back,i wonder how i maintained a single opinion for so long.Me myself, i get strong head sha.
Mother: What is wrong with you?!How difficult is it for you to break up with a girl?!
T.N: Because all of the reasons you have slated,as far as i am concerned hold no weight. I am entitled to my own opinion- in the choice of the person I WILL SPEND the rest of my life with.I,not You.
Mother: She must have given you something to eat! They must have taken your name somewhere, that's what it is,isn't it?!
T.N(Dry laugh): Then there must not be a God up there. If there is a God, then the authority and faith we hold in Him should be bigger than voodoo and charms. If at all she was that sort of person-we know she is not.
Mother: You are just a child. You cannot understand.

For some reason, that one always stung the most. Being thought to be a fool, even when it was easily acknowledged that i used to be one everyone relied on in those days. I was supposedly the most spiritually inclined; I held the best grades (i must have at least been reasonably smart right?), i was the most introspective, i thought everything deep and through. She used to come to me for advice when everything was falling apart. Now all of a sudden, i am a fool.

T.N (Dry laugh): I guess i am a child then. I'll wait to grow up and understand. Till that day,i cannot do something that's against what i know to be true.


Its hard to go back to those days...the words were too deep and too hard. They cut deep and made bleed. Desperate,I sought counsel everywhere. I needed to be sure that i wasn't making a big mistake. But the others didn't see a big deal in any of the stress. The older pastors didn't, the counselors didn't,my older friends didn't, and worse still,i didn't. So how could i have walked away??

I remember my heart growing colder for all the four years that turmoil dragged on. I stopped caring...i stopped living...i receded deep within to protect the only thing that made sense in those days.I hate going back to those days.Dark dark days.I left the house when it reached its peak.I had the choice to stay i Lagos for nysc, or give up my privileged influence with the nysc authorities. I didn't care, i didn't want to be there anymore. So i walked far away. But pain does not reduce with space/distance. When i came back from the east,something had broken within, i was not the same person anymore. I changed.


There are many ways to consider the issue of parental discontent with your spousal relationship. Acknowledgely,in many instances, it turned out the child was wrong and was short sighted. But in some rare instance-like my friend's whose story i listened to today,there just couldn't be any visible sign to suggest that he is being the fool. Everything just seemed right...And in other instances,even where the danger signs are obvious,there is the element of love-so deep. Ahhh,the emotion is a funny thing,and can run stronger and deeper than we could ever imagine.My friend quoted from the final chapters of romeo and juliet,explaining that in some stories,both parties could just not bare the thought of living without each other, they'd rather die. And many have died for love. It's very common in india and asia even these days- i was surprised myself to find out. Ofcourse I don't succumb to the death decision (lol), but i understand where the idea may be steaming from. I have been there.


The funny thing is that even with all of the hullabaloo,the everyday living of marriage still holds most of its rough days. Marriage is hard work. Even where the two people involved loved each other to death and all of the world and the catholic pope ratified their union..there would still be days where they'd hate each other with the same ferociousness. There'd still be days when his secretary will make his blood burn with lust. She might cheat on him, the children will make their days rough, finances will still be hard on some days. And everyone of the unions must still battle against the odds of a divorce when the heats gets too hard. So yes the cynical part of me acknowledges that it may all not be worth it, fighting the world for one person...or is it?

But then again, when we are in love,as we all we be, love is all we have. Love, Faith and Hope for the best. I believe everybody should be entitled to that-especially moreso when the person's usual reasoning can be trusted. Heck, even with all the parent's good intention, many of them only endured their marriages to the end.

Anyway,i adviced him to write and let it all out in a blog and hopefully his last words will be a happy ending...he'd propose to her and the whole world will laugh with him. He laughed it off and said he'd try. As for me..well some people go through shit and heal and become better for all of it. Me,i just never healed. I just became an inglorious unbelieving basterd. That's why i have another date on friday with Tz.

Life,as we know it (My cross roads 4)

We never ever grow old of our admiration for super heroes. That's why old men are still making marvel comic movies and nollywood is still trying to create what looks like an action movie. I liked superman when i was younger. I used to wish i had super powers, until today when i realize that along with being put in a saviour/warrior position,comes some really hard responsibilities. Such as decisions and actual combat(shriek)!

Suddenly i am questioning, How can i be a super heroe when i do not have the cape, and i do not even like wearing spandex!I've mentioned before that my bulging crotch even makes me super picky in selecting boxer sizes, talk less of wearing spandex and red pants in public!


Suddenly i am making excuses of, "I have a stutter,you know i stammer, how do you expect me to speak up against authorities!" What if it turns out that what i believed in and stood up for was all crap? What if i lifted up my magic staff/wand and the seas did not part? What if an eqyptian arrow hits me as we make our way through the red seas?!


And to start with, what do i know about the art of warfare in the first place? One sobering fear that gets to me every now and then in these thoughts is an old acquaintance who carried his big head like mine and said he was going to war against cultural affirmation. He did good for a while until he travelled home to the East during holidays and his car crashed - killing him, his wife, and leaving a toodler child orphaned and at the mercy of the heartless villager's tug of war for inheritance. #Shudders# How i wish i was carribbean!
But i try to reassure myself that that's a lone incidence,and hey, i'll be just fine,would still be running my mouth all over the place until i am 95 and need braces to keep them from dropping off my jaw!


And these are all just primal fears,aren't they? Should we live our lives and make decisions just because we were afraid? What if i was right....what if? What if i turned and ran,and that voice remained as a haunt through my days,telling me, "You should have stayed,you should have fought this." But that's all action movie talk...Groan..i wish someone would turn off the sky digital channel that my days have become.
/

Someone recently said to me: The thing about our African traditions and all of the nay-sayers is that,they never consider what will happen to the other person who has become the object of scrutiny. All we want to do is save our own face. And the sad sad thing in all of these,and even my own meandering thought is that, i know without a doubt that,if i was the one in the position wherein she finds herself today, and she was faced with the choice to stick by me or not,she'd never ever walk away from me. It doesn't still make it any easier does it...choice is such bitch. I swear,at the end of all these,i'll put up a shiny 32 grin of me lounging in the carribean brandishing my new nationality passport. You can all be there singing:



Me,personally,i've had it with all the bullsh*t! #FightThis T.N#

Life, as we know it (My cross roads 3)

I've mentioned before that i wish this will all turn out to be being overdramatic and indulging my inner knack for theatrics...but i'm yet to wake up since this whole crap started and find that i was dreaming it all. The dang sickness hasn't gone away, my stress level is getting worse and i'm informed now to report to a family meeting in london next week. Do you see where this is going..as a part of me told me today, "To fight this, man.".

Now, in Nigerian style life, as we all know it, you do not pick a fight against your family. You do not fight against culture, tradition, and the last wishes of your parents. And if you choose to fight,then you are turning your back on everything. Walking away in the words of craig daid that's been taunting my mind of late. But i wonder against the fine voices of tradition,where my personal principles and hopes lie when it contradicts the genral fear of "family.". Its a hard one, and varied opionions will draw swords already in defence, i know...

You know that old song "Jesus take the wheel!". And i wonder, how do you tell the distiction between when to let go and let God, and when you seriously need to "Suck it up, and take charge of the direction you life would be going?" #LikeSeriously?#I know this might end up sounding luda,but its alright to pray and hope and have faith,but as of now,i'm getting sick and tired of the 'not knowing', and just wanna take back charge of my life.Heck,if i drove the whole thing off the cliff,i'd meet God with a half broken toothy grin and say, 'dang that felt good!'.#heresy, i know quoting from Joshua Harris' Blog:

Nowhere in the Bible does it say "God helps those who help themselves." But it does tell us that God helps those who wait for him and hope in him.

But a part of me still tells me to: "Fight this man.". The intricate details of these are hard. Like, meen,jeez!I've lived quite abit and have pocketed a few experiences along the way, but admitedly, none this difficult. Today i asked God frankly, "Why is this happening to me?" "Why am i at the center of this mess?". And i recalled my recent thoughts about modern day supermen.

Life, as we know it (My CrossRoads 2)

Today,I said to myself:Fight this, man. But how much i hate drama! I don't watch Hollyoaks,or one tree hill, or any other series that smells like soap. I've always believed that life has enough worries of its own, why should i want to entertain myself by watching fictional turmoil. I'd rather laugh, or be fascinated by SciFi's or thrillers. So imagine my horror when someone decided it's my turn to become the center of real-life dramatics!

Note: I now officially hate being Nigerian and everything associated with our african traditional roots. Culture, believes, its all crap. I can totally understand now why many have left the shores of home, accepted the ideals of another culture and never looked back. I might never look back.

So,someone very close to me fell ill recently. Really ill, but we hope she'll get better. Alot of people freaked out at the situation, in particular, my family. Yes, without a doubt, i have my own bouts of fears,but being closest to the person in concern, i've kept them at bay and insisted on being supportive. It's my support that's become my reason for all of these crap. I don't get us Nigerians, seriously,i think for the most part of it, we're narrow minded, unnecessarily fearfull.

I've lived long and hard enough to know that, "Sometimes, life happens.".Anything can happen to anybody at any point in time. You might loose a loved one tommorrow, you might crash in a plane next week...for the most part of it, we can only do the best we can to safe life, but none of us is above the lemons and curveballs that life can throw at anytime. So, help me understand,why i should pick up my skirt and run like everybody else? What if in my running, i ran into an incoming truck? What if i ran and ran head first into something far worse than what i was picking tail from in the first place? We all have our opinions...of which we are entitled to.

Life,as we know it (My Cross Roads 1)

I have often bitched about insensitive bloggs who go on and on about their personal problems and seem to forget that the rest of us take coffee and crackers type delight in the formerly lighthearted nature of their blogs. Since i realize that i am fast becoming one of such people, i apologize in advance. But to be frank, for the past few weeks and maybe subsequent ones,i'm needing this blogg just for me...if that makes any sense at all. Matter-of-fact,i've considered that the level of shit i might be disclosing if i am unable to revert to taking personal charge of my own issues, might just provide the fine culmination to these pages. Fuck, life just got too heavy! And if this all ends like fairy tale, then it'd be a fine place to put up smiley faces of the nut cracker behind this blog-because at that point, really, there'd be no more need for privacy or annonymity-having said all already.

Wordless

On this day...8/3/2011.