Wondering how come nobody told me about the magic in Gold coast waters...
About how our west african sisters got soul in their lips and hips...
even though I don't even know half of what she's said!
This here is my virgin discovery of ghanaian soul music.
And how they remind me of that good quality African music, funked up like Omawumi and then mixed up with some Seyi Shay...
I only heard of Becca after that one song with M.I Abaga...
But that was all i knew, until i stumbled on Efya, and Mzvee and....that's it..i'm packing off to Ghana, no jokes!
There’s a certain release that comes from taking a literal pause to acknowledge your pain.
I have previously just carried on as normal, with the occasional wince.
But some day, it all comes crashing down as if reality is grabbing your neck and forcing you to acknowledge that life intends to break you.
I understood for a moment why it's called a broken heart
That jarring feeling of walking through the pages of your life and realizing that the clatter beneath every step are the million pieces of your shattered heart,
Being reduced to smitterings with every day of unmet expectations.
Sometimes the ironic and cliche is the truth - even more so for the cynic at heart,
The boys that insist to the world that they have become men,
And so God forbid that stray tear that dare trickle down the stubble of your manly beard.
I have read that hope deferred makes the heart sick - i think sick is a gross understatement of the truth.
I have heard of people who shake clinched hateful, yet faithful fists up to the heavens, and....now....now i don't judge them.
Who are we deceiving, these are not good times.
And the biggest challenge is carrying on as if everything were alright.
I haven't written in a while. Blog scribbles do not count....
I'm often awake till early mornings. Many times with YouTube or radio playing in the background. And since google has become some sort of mood reader, YouTube recommended tonight that i listen to some good ole Boys II Men classics. Ofcourse i obliged and journeyed back to those fantastic 90's. Allowing the playlist to skip along from One sweet Day, to Water runs dry, Seasons of Loneliness, End of the road...Fine times those days were! Memory is truly a gift, and music is a wonder. Each song easily flung open rusty gates to old memories and silly childish emotions from way back. Teenage crushes, first kisses, big afros and baggy jeans all wrapped up in the dawning of hip hop and extremely emotive R&B music.
Talking about random memories.....The Fugees - Killing me softly, (oh my days!) was a hit at abouts my JSS3. I remember that we used to have these 'class parties' towards the end of each school term, and it was fierce competition for which class threw the best party. The key formular ofcourse being your music and the girls in attendance. Lamide was the rave of the time in JSS3. Tall, slim, perfect ebony Lamide was the first to hit the puberty mark, and so transformed into a perky goddess to the awe testosterone drunk teenage boys.
Lamide was that amazing, it was considered a privilege to spend all of your "tuck-shop" money on her at lunch time, then go hungry, in return for a very short-lived glory of walking hand-in-hand with her during recess. That hand would literally be sacred until you get back to the privacy of your room and a jar of vaseline.....But anyways, that particular class party was banging. Dr Dre & Snoop Dog (Next episode), was all up in the mix, until suddenly the music stopped....and then, The Fugees crooning "Killing me softly", took over the blaring speakers in perfect cue to Lamide's ever sensational entrance - with her groupie entourage in tow.
Probably my only significant achievement of my secondary school days, equal in no proportion to Moses' parting of the red sea, as an ocean of salivating teenage boys literaly gave way to allow Lamide saunter in and march right up to yours truly chilling coyly in one corner. Smart guy that i was, i had invested a significant amount of lunch money, in return for a first dance. And boy did she know how to slow dance that song....
Life was easier growing up. And yes, it's probably just me gone tone-deaf but sometimes i do think the music was better those days with fine lyrics that had a certain level of depth - for love or cannabis induced. Things were simpler in a comfortable sort of way too. The internet didn't come round until much later, so mischief was limited to the typical teenage rowdiness. Knowledge and exposure come with it's vices. Somehow, i think we were better off with the little that we knew. The sort of mischief kids get up to these days.....But anyways, it is foolish to lay idle pondering about why the old days are better than these....as it is not wise to wonder about such matters. I think the challenge for today is intentionally creating even better memories of today, for tomorrow. That...is the challenge.....
But sleep calls, and there really is no point to this post anyways. Though I do wonder what ever happened to that Lamide girl....
I used to think this happens only in rubbish Nollywood movies....
But the guy i used to look down on as the outcast kid is heading up the panel of Senior Execs in the interview I'm just about to walk into.
Karma must be having a proper laugh at my expense right now.
So apparently there's a mystery guy in the office who provides "solicited" oral favours to the ladies. The terms of engagement are such that the two persons involved cannot discuss details ever. All she said was that it starts off with a blank office email, agreed via sms and concluded on a random friday night with very little words spoken, only just the business. And he's apparently really really good.
Oh, and this is one of those posts that may be sensibly deleted in a few hours.
When i was younger, i'd wait till everyone has retired to bed, so that I can creep back into the living room to enjoy the solitude of night - doing nothing except listening to soothing music and daydreaming away. I just realized today that not much has changed in that regard - except that it's harder to stay up late without the throbbing consequences to my mornings. However, on such quiet nights as these, I have found that there is great benefit to idle daydreaming along the corridors of graceful providence. I have this one giant notebook that has travelled with me across many journeys. I have scribbled countless late night dreams which i have woken up to on countless mornings to chase and pray hard after. But as with all of us, flipping through some of those pages feels like walking through a boulevard of broken dreams. I stopped asking silly questions like 'why me' sometime last year when i painfully realised that though i am privileged to view the world through my own singular perspective, it really does not revolve around me. So why not me? And neither does faith make me immune from any of the heartaches that we will all walk through at some point - it is how the cookie crumbles - hardly any one of us makes it through unscathed in some way. This may seem like an obviousness but you know how some truths become painfully real to you such that it seems like no one else had ever realized it. So i have quietly embraced every page of that notepad, soaring and painful hopes none withstanding. And like tonight, i do wince at some hopes that still seem so very far off and who knows, may never come to pass...#Quiet....But i also enthusiastically celebrate the priviledges in the dreams that i have stepped into and now breathe in every morning. I realised a transitioning in my faith recently which some may disagree with but which suits me just fine. It is this....I no longer position an argument for the existence of God in all of these madness. I find that instead, i am cluchting hard to one thin desperate and worn out shroud of what is left of my own faith, within which i am quietly hoping hard...for there to be a God...somewhere that'll make it all worth the while somehow and sometime. I love the audacity in the sensible truth that if Christ is not raised, then indeed, vain also is our preaching, and vain also your faith.
I am dreaming again tonight, being fully aware that not all dreams come true. But that's fine, because some do. And if the stars don't shine on this one, I'll dream yet another for tomorrow.
P.S......My comment responses may be slow but i do honestly collect every one and allow them lap gently against the lazy lakes of my meandering thoughts.
Have a good night folks....And if you found solidarity in any of my implied contexts, hang in there :)
I am an obsessive person - There i said it!
I pick something, anything and make it the object of my urgent sacriligious obsession.
I know when i am slowly slipping into that state, but i let it happen everytime.
And i won't let up until i have conquered it, and then when i do, I get bored and move on.
It's like this ridiculous itch to constantly have a source of entertainment.
And i know it sounds horrendous, but I'll do it again tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.
The worst situation is when two obsessive people collide into each other's space.
So...There...now you know!
There's this guy in the office- We don't get along at all, mostly because we're in the running for the same position.
I understand his myopic point of view. I'm an out-of-towner (OOT) and i skipped up the ladders too quickly. But myopic because the average professional OOT has slaved it out for a few years under the sub-saharan, so as far as I'm concerned I've paid my dues and I'm dead set on not wasting time.
Running late for work so I'll have to continue this some other time....
But my point is, I'm wondering if i ought to calm down and give in to the expected office politicking to make him happy. My stand point has been entirely unapologetic that i met him in the company and now stand on his turf. Besides, that Nigerian blood entirely resists any form of subserviency or boot kissing.
Things got a little heated last week...he cascaded a certain unprofessionally rude email about my work to management. I responded promptly and shut him down in the same email sharply. It got nasty and Senior Management had to intervene to diffuse the situation....
There is often that one thing, or thought or person or experience, that makes your heart skip a beat. The type that when you indulge a simple thought of it, you literally really feel your heart pause for a second and then forces you to feel alive after it resumes a steady beat.
I once argued with a friend that one way of jerking yourself away from that one desire is to imagine the full extreme of that depravity till you feel the guilty warmth of satisfaction wash over you.
I love how you often get good quality 'street jazz music' on a random train ride. I love when you hand your blog over to your mind and you become the audience of your own meandering thoughts. Go on....
Last week we were discussing the start of another fast project with impossible timelines. I nodded ever so enthusiastically, then returned to my desk and booked away a string of long overdue holidays. First stop Italy, then beautiful Paris. And i'm not even going to feel guilty about it. If GEJ burns the economy to the ground, the hustle will still continue another day for those who survive the #petrocalypse.
Growing up, our folks used to say 'ise o kin pa yan?' I.e Hard work ain't never killed nobody. That 'ish don't apply anymore. Stress, high blood pressure, heart attacks....are no respecter of age anymore. Work hard, be on top of your game, yes please, but take time to breathe, in however capacity you can manage to. Light is sweet and it pleases the eyes to see the sun.
The highway of desire starts to curve to an end once that last item of clothing falls slowly to your feet. So tease a little longer, maybe dig a little deeper, for that hopeful tinge of substance. That quirky eccentricity that'll carry us giggling through the night, even after our ten minutes of heated passion.
I've had these 6-point plan pinned up for quite a while. Because there will be days that things go wrong - and possibly more of those ones than the finer days. A certain conversation, an email, a phonecall, a diagnosis....stuff happens, life happens. I have always found things easier to deal with when i have a preemptive strategy of sorts.
On a brighter note, stocks were amazing last week!
I did not have any expectations with the whole group chat idea. But I
definitely did not expect it to carry on into 3am! In summary - good fun, and as expected most of y'all need deliverance of some sorts, but overall cheers to all
participants!
Synchronising global timing takes some practice so apologies to those who got the times mixed up, and we will certainly schedule a repeat in the near future - probably on a friday as suggested.
As promised, here are the results of the player predictions.
MVP goes to SugarBelly/Olivia Pope! But for those we stayed long enough for the predictions, winning
prediction goes to Nazzy. So Nazzy, drop me an email and we will
sort out how to send over your prize. My preference is for a shopping
voucher.
P.S. All suggestions about the curiously missing underwear situation has been taken onboard!
Group chat is live tomorrow as per schedule. Details are below. Remember, we are playing for anonymity whilst remaining 100% truthful, so bring your best wit along!
Lagos (Nigeria) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 22:00:00 WAT UTC+1 hour
London (United Kingdom - England) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 21:00:00 GMT UTC
Washington DC (U.S.A. - District of Columbia) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 17:00:00 EDT UTC-4 hours
Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia) Sunday, 29 March 2015, 05:00:00 MYT UTC+8 hours
Abu Dhabi (United Arab Emirates - Abu Dhabi) Sunday, 29 March 2015, 01:00:00 GST UTC+4 hours
Corresponding UTC (GMT) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 21:00:00
If you have requested for a reminder email, you should receive one shortly.
P.S: This is not intended to be an intellectual discus, abeg, it's weekend. So grab a coffee, reliable internet, kick back and live a little.
P.P.S: In the event that the world ends tomorrow as a result of Nigeria elections, or participant numbers is below the ten(10) minimum, or IT issues screw things over, we'll simply postpone till some other time. If chatroom visitors max out, you can create a free account on chatzy and jump right back in.
P.P.P.S: Yes, you are allowed to invite your boy/girl friend if you are keen for some saturday night randomness. Although, you do that at your own risk for obvious reasons.
All other things being equal...this could be...potentially interesting. So yeah...let's see.
Don't forget to pre-test your device compatibility by clicking into the chat
room now and leaving an anonymous short message. I'll be in and out of the room to respond to 'test messages'. For those who have done so, your messages went through ok.
Lagos (Nigeria) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 22:00:00 WAT UTC+1 hour
London (United Kingdom - England) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 21:00:00 GMT UTC
Washington DC (U.S.A. - District of Columbia) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 17:00:00 EDT UTC-4 hours
Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia) Sunday, 29 March 2015, 05:00:00 MYT UTC+8 hours
Abu Dhabi (United Arab Emirates - Abu Dhabi) Sunday, 29 March 2015, 01:00:00 GST UTC+4 hours
Corresponding UTC (GMT) Saturday, 28 March 2015, 21:00:00
Please test your device compatibility by clicking into the chat
room now and leaving an anonymous short message. I'll be in and out of the room to respond to 'test messages'.
Cancellation notice:
Details are subject to postponement/cancellation at short notice. I'll however let you know ahead of time. But as at now, all systems are go, and i'm looking for the 1st ten(10) chirpy players!
Right...so following up on previous post here, I will setting up an online blogsville group chat on the 28th March, so mark your diaries. I think this has potential to be...interesting, so yeah...let's see.
Here are the details, which i will update frequently, so refresh this page every now and then.
Confirmed date:..... Time:..... Chat Site:..... Log in PIN.....
The Game
Source: Amazon
We will be playing the silly party game Never have I ever - with a bit of hopefully
fun twist. If you are not familiar with the Never have I ever, here is a typical format via the video below.
"The object of the game is simple, players take turns to answer highly personal and potentially defamatory questions" - Amazon.
Here is the twist.
The chat will be entirely anonymous, which means participants will sign into the chat room using any random blogger name that does not belong to you. For example, Toinlicious may sign in as Afrobabe. Note: Your chosen blogger name should be as random and obscure as possible, because the aim of the game will be to unmask as many players
as you can. I.e, the player who successfully identifies the highest number of real bloggers behind their chosen fake names wins. I expect the whole things should not go longer than about 1hour, depending on how quick we catch on.
The Prize
I will email a $$$ gift voucher to the winner, as my sort of mini blog give-away.
How to play
The game will run in quick rounds, moderated by an anonymous
participant. The moderator will call out a confession/topic/question for each round,
which will then carry on into quick-fire responses by every player.
So, the moderator may start off with a Never have I ever declaration, then each player will respond in turn either affirming or denouncing that same confession for themselves, however making their own declaration a little more creative to hopefully mask their identity. After every player has made their personal statement, the moderator will hand over to another player to start off the next round of Never have I ever declaration.
Simple example Moderator: This is round 5. The catogory is lush kisses. So your declarations/confessions will revolve this topic. Player 1 will start off
Player 1: Never ever have i kissed a man. Player 2: Never ever have i kissed a girl on a sunny sunday in New York City. Player 3: Never kissed at all.
So from the answers, you may likely guess that player 1 is either a guy or a lesbian, and therefore could be Duru Jnr masquerading as SisiYemmie. Player 3 is defintely not Duru ;)
Your answers have to be 100% truthful and realistic, but think carefully, as every player will be using your answers to work out who you are.
At the end of the game we will take turns to reveal each participant's best guesses. The person who correctly guesses the highest number of bloggers correctly wins. Simples.
Question
If you have any questions, you can drop them into the comments box and i will try to answer them asap, that way the chat is not used up trying to explain rules and etc.
How to enter
Sign up in the comments box and go on to decide your chosen fake blog handle which you will use to log into the chat room. Keep your diary open at the decided date & time. You may drop an email address if you want a personal reminder closer to the chat date. You may want to have a reliable internet connection, possibly on a laptop.
T&C
I need to think these through properly to ensure i have covered every angle and simplified things as much as possible. Hence, the details, times and dates are subject to change until 'good-to-go', and also to allow for significant number of particpants signed in. I will hold off for a minimum of ten(10) confirmed players before proceeding. I will try to do some PR blog rounds over the weekend to quicken things.
So yeah, that's about it. See you at the Masked Ball....
I took this picture about two weeks ago in a moment of pride, joy...and something much deeper. It signified to me the achivement of a goal. It stood there as a testament to that timeless creed that 'all things are possible to them that dream, reach and have faith. It was not so much about the car, but the journies up that point, and hence I was going to put up a post about it, really as a sort of bookmark, for my own quiet acknowledgement. Then i remembered one Linda Ikeji post and wondered about motives, so i scrapped the idea.
But i am tired today. It is 11pm, and this is usually the begining of the second part of my day. My usual routine is to take a short nap after work, then wake at 11pm and spend the rest of the night burning papers for two sets of pro.exams as well as compulsorily keeping abreast of Bloomberg and CNN. But today, o ti su mi. I'm looking at everything and wondering, what exactly am i doing? It's like i have suddenly understood the meaning of that rat race and the wicked cruelty in it all. You hop into that concourse and jugger along for...the rest of life?
I feel like i started this journey to prove a point - that i can come here and be bad mother shut your mouth awesome on two simple counts - faith and dogged perseverance. Which is really all we have...But what happens after you've got the t-shirt? I'd love to speak to Linda and ask what happens next after the 4x4? Do you reach for your towel and retire off the race, or do you clearly have to push on harder to carry on keeping up appearances. There is something sadly depressing about that idea. But maybe i wouldn't be thinking like this after a good night's rest...or maybe there is more to my cynic discontent, knowing that there should be more to life than all that i am wasting away on account of....
Once upon a time...
one blogger knew one blogger on a cold winters' night,
and the two decided never to speak of it ever again
-an intentional noble agreement for the sake of world peace
One west, one south, paths never ever to cross again.
Fast forward three calm years later,
a party invite off social media, a casual glance at the accepted invites' list....
a mocking bird quirps.
You know that sinking feeling when you realize that all hell is about to break loose...
when you hear a sickening knock on a coffin latch that should for all reason be dead quiet.
In the old blogging days, people knew too much
traded secrets and allegiances like a hooker's midnight wages
but as we mature and real lives slowly creep in,
you soon realize how you have stupidly hung lives on fragile threads in the hands of similarly broken strangers.
So words fade away and pages disappear - all too intentionally,
As fancy masks become permanently welded into scarred faces,
because when you have everything to loose,
however pretty a mocking bird is, the only desperate hope is that she don't sing.
I find it funny when people talk wishfully about old days,
unaware that nobody hugs a clock of darkness,
or daintifully skips away into obscurity without reason.
Reasons such as this.
As part of the Federal Governments' efforts to stem the rising tide of the Boko Haram insurgency in Nigeria, the original gmail account attached to this blog page will no longer be functional.
Boko Haram must end! Change must come!
Lol! Some people will get the joke.
P.s.....Got a fantastic promotion at work. Now i just need to figure out how to act the role...
Night times in our conservative suburban neighbourhood has always been...typically peaceful,
Until a certain young lady moved in next door recently....
Last night started with a few barely audible moans, coming through the thin walls of the bedroom.
The type of moans that you cannot mistake, and it got curiously more dramatic quickly.
Lots of violent creaking and .........you could almost make out the intermittent check slapping too.
All very unbecoming behaviour really, went on for a good twenty minutes. And that's the problem with all these black people you know - making you feel....inadequately competitive.
Warning:
I get the worst ideas after 9pm when i am tired out and overworked. This might be one of them.
But anyways, a certain onlinegroup chat room will be made available to interested participants at a date and precise time to be advised.
Entrance requirements:
1 random question.
1 funny question.
Willingness to play a stupid game.
Your email address for details.
P.S:
I will review this post and potential implications after a good night's rest, so if the post is deleted by the morning, bear with me. It only means my common sense kicked back into gear.
If otherwise, keep calm and join a blogsville group chat. Why not?
I recently considered turning off the comments box on this page. My reasons were noble -
Lately I've been struggling to respond individually to comments. Often times, i use the comments log as the first instance of blogs i visit when doing blog rounds. And when I'm done with that, i often find the contentment i am selfishly searching for, and I'm happy to go to bed often forgetting that i have not replied comments on mine.
So the problem was not really about being too anal to do the needful replies. i'm often just more curious to read the other person's thoughts than to maintain a conversation on mine.
So i reasoned that if i couldn't be disciplined enough to complete blog duties, then just disable comments box. Simples.
I had pretty much made up my mind until i visited two particular blogs who have turned off comments lately and i found myself really genuinely and royally pissed off about that situation. Yes there's an email which i could have kindly sent my thoughts into, but i just couldn't be arsed to. I felt like an intruder in a private space stupidly trying to speak to a giant brick wall that would never reply me anyways.
Like seriously, who turns off blog comments?! I'm certain it must be against some constitutional law to disable my right to comment on your blog! It's just not right. Particularly because that post hit the nail right on the head, and it was awesome, and I thought this person's mind must belong to the gods! And you had me furiously searching all over the place like an addict pinning for a fix. Comment comment comments give me comments, i need to comment now nooooow!
But alas, the hypocrisy in my rant.
P.S. I was going to include a descriptive image of someone talking to a brick wall. Pictures are amazing to drive home a point quickly, and they're easy on the eyes too. Then as i downloaded the image, i noticed some copyright declarations linked to the image, and i got doubly pissed! What is it with this world, everybody trying to make money off every thing! People should calm down! Calm down people!!!!
And i should probably calm down too.
P.P.S: Duru&Janyl.B....I'm watching you two....and this love thang that's seemingly brewing.
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