waffy's articles

Try and be a human being

2009-02-22T09:25:00.000-08:00

Why do people not know how they feel?

I always know how I feel at any given time of the day. I am happy or sad, frustrated, tired, nonchalant, angry, etc, ask me, and I'll tell you. Like right now, I am feeling "bothered” because I am thinking of things that are bothering me and one of them is the funny fact that people do not know how they feel. If you know how you feel about something, then perhaps you will be able to give a reaction that is necessary for a given situation. If you know sitting in the darkness, without electricity, makes you feel angry, then perhaps a good reaction would be to show the government your anger and not just sit there, doing nothing. If you know you are frustrated by the conditions of the roads in the country, then why not show your frustration? Do you not know how you feel?

Why do people not have empathy?

I think I know the answer to this one. Some scientific fact that says if a child has not developed empathy at by the age of three, then the possibility of that happening later on in life as an adult is almost impossible. What a pity! It is so sad that any human being would want to hurt another and not understand what he/she is doing. You know you are hurting someone else and you just do not care. How is that possible? For example, I find it hard to understand how the Minister of foreign affairs, Ojo Madueke could open his mouth and suggest that the poor children in Akwa Ibom (who were accused of witchcraft, tortured and abused, abandoned by their families) were all paid to say that they were tortured. How can any parent, any human being, not understand the grave nature and consequences of abuse? Must we all be stripped and tortured before we understand what pain is? It is a shame.

Why do people easily forget?

I still remember the senior that helped me with my bucket of water on my first day in boarding house. I was only ten years old. I remember how grateful I felt because I just could not carry that monster of a metal. I remember her just stopping by me and taking it from my hand. Her name was senior Chidinma and I have never forgotten her or how relieved I felt when she took that bucket from my hand. I remember mostly how I felt and who made me feel that way. So how come people can so easily forget such moments? How is that possible? Do you not all remember better times in this country? Do you not remember when you could walk on the streets without fear of being robbed? Have you all forgotten when people could actually learn Latin in schools? Do you not remember when children could play football outside until it was dark? Have we forgotten so easily, the greatness that Nigeria once had the potential to attain?

Why do people say things if they do not mean them?

I mean, except I am under the influence of something, most words that come out of my mouth, are mostly true, so how come people open their mouths and just “blab”? Just for the sake of “blabbing”? Why do people say so many things when they obviously know they do not mean any of them? How can they open their mouths and lie about so many things? Why do our politicians keep telling us one thing and then doing the total opposite? If they do not mean anything that comes out of their mouths, then I suggest they keep quiet.

If we cannot be human beings, at least, let us try.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Where are all the men?

2009-02-17T01:12:00.000-08:00

I remember an evening, so many years ago. It was around 6, and everybody else was inside my grandmother’s little house. Behind my grandmother's house, was an old hut, with an old lady in it. I used to be so afraid of her because she allowed her goats sleep in her hut with her. All her goats had names, and the black goat shared mine with me. That evening, I stood outside watching her herd her goats into her living room. She smiled a toothy smile at me, and said "My husband built this hut, with his bare hands". She pointed out the few huts left in the compound, she knew when they were all built, whose son or father or husband had built it. She slapped her hands on the walls, "good, strong walls, cool in the heat and warm when cold".

Strong walls, built by strong men. Men that provided for their families with their bare hands, working on farms, fishing or hunting. They provided for their families and when the huts leaked at night, they climbed on roofs and fixed the holes. When things needed to be lifted, they bent their backs and carried loads of unthinkable weights. Many a time, you would see them lifting a woman, an old relative or sick child on their backs. They were men of honour, men of their words. They stood tall beside their families and God save you, you come near their loved ones, they would fight to the last and protect their women and children.

Now, here we are in 2009. The rules have not changed, for us, the women. Do you still cook, clean and wash his clothes? The answer is probably yes. The rules for you will never change; you are the care taker of the home. You will bear his children, feed them and take care of them when sick. You will feed him too, and take care of him and his family too, when sick. You will slave away at the kitchen for his favourite meals and fulfil the one duty he begged of you on your wedding night, that you will never refuse him when he comes to you at nights. You will scratch his back when it itches and rub his feet when it aches, you will do all this with a smile on your face, because, your role, you will play to perfection. That is what he expects, that is what society expects.

Here we are, in 2009 and how the rules have changed for you men! Oh, I do not expect you to build anything with your bare hands, but perhaps, is it possible that you could roll over some paint on just a little section of the wall where your mechanic left his dirty hand prints? Oh my, I don't expect you to climb rooftops and look for leaks, but could you just fix a blocked sink? It is not so hard you know, you just turn that white pipe anticlockwise and remove all the dirt and viola! the water will flow easily again. Some light bulbs need to be changed, is it too much to ask of you? But most of all please protect me. I do not expect you to go about brandishing machetes or cutlasses but when the nights are dark and I need a strong shoulder to lean on, please do not shake like a jelly fish, let me know I can count on you and you are my man.

2009. Nothing has changed for women but a lot has changed for men. Forget about those men of your grandmother's stories that fought with bravery at battles. They no longer exist, what we have now, are pencil pushing men, more likely to run before you even shout for help. Their hands are softer than yours or your babies, their backs straighter than any model’s, their fears, greater than ever before.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

10th wife will not be my portion!

2009-02-08T01:23:00.000-08:00

Women don suffer finish for this country oh. Chei! Imagine, if a whole president’s daughter, a young woman, born into a family of wealth, imagine if she self, agree to be fourth wife of old papa, then wetin the rest of us suppose do? No hope for us. Na to begin marry man wey dey over eighty na! We go come be 10th wife. God forbid bad thing! It is not my portion!

The amusing part is that the two principal characters involved in this debacle are men of great power. A president and a governor. A father and a husband. One, thought it fit to marry away his young daughter and the other, happily accepted a young wife. What is my problem, you may ask? After all, in their religion it is totally acceptable.

My problem is that as a woman in this country, I no longer feel safe. If they can treat their “own” in such a manner, then what about the rest of us? If they see their own daughter as “property”, then how do they see you and I? We must be under the category of “recyclable garbage”. I am not even sure we might make it to “recyclable”, we might just be rubbish.

What our leaders fail to realise is that they are the examples we have. They are the people that we look up to, to lead us. The kind of choices they make in their lives affects a whole nation. What kind of message are both men giving other men in the country? Next thing you know, all these old papas will be happily chasing school girls all over the place. After all, if their president thinks it is okay then why not?
No, I do not feel safe anymore. If anybody should ever ask me to visit Aso rock, I shall decline. I advise all young women to keep away from Abuja. That place does not seem to follow the norms of other societies. I am afraid our civilisation may be at risk. We seem to be going backwards and with great speed as well! Before you know it, we shall become “hunters and gatherers” again.

It seems our leaders are bent on convincing us that they live in another world, too far away from ours. We want leaders that live in the present century. We want leaders that understand the important role women have in the society. As long as we have leaders who do not understand this, I am afraid we shall never be able to rise in this country. As long as we have a leader who thinks that marrying a fourth wife is a priority in these hard times, then I am afraid this country is doomed.

P.S:Meanwhile all these governors self, dem dey take woman matter pass government work oh! Na wah.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

The Petty Man

2009-02-08T01:19:00.000-08:00

Many a man's reputation would not know his character if they met on the street.
- Elbert Hubbard

Wonders shall never end. I am never surprised anymore by the way people embarrass themselves on the pages of newspapers. Last time, it was the son of Obasanjo who aired his dirty laundry in public, now it is Alec Godwin, ex-husband of the singer, Kefee who has decided that the public deserves to know all the little inconsequential details of his marriage. Na who tell una say we dey interested?

In an interview published by “The Punch”, dated 31st Jan 2009, this man thought he was doing himself and his family a favour by telling us intimate details of his failed marriage. How petty can you get to give such details? Lest I forget, this man is supposed to be a serious Christian; the son of a Pastor, in fact, he met his ex wife in church. What do you have to gain by revealing details of your personal life? The intention must be to try to tarnish the image of his ex-wife. Surely, a true Christian is not supposed to be that vindictive?

Pettiness is so unbecoming and Nigerian men seem to be the masters of losing dignity the moment something does not go the way they plan. However, it is not only Alec that is guilty of this crime. Many a gentleman have become agberos overnight. I remember even back then in secondary school, I was always baffled by the fact about how easy a young boy would confidently call an ex girlfriend “ashawo".

Many times, I listened with annoyance as the so called ex boyfriend would tell his guys intimate details of his relationship and of course reveal secrets the once "love of his life" told him in confidence. I have watched that scenario unfold many times as a teenager and I have always thought it was because they were young and did not know any better.

However, I now have reasons to believe that a lot of GROWN Nigerian men act like immature fools in situations such as these. Somebody should tell Alec Godwin to keep his skeletons in his closet because we are not interested in seeing them dance!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

No reward for the lazy man

2009-01-28T01:31:00.000-08:00

History has been made and I am glad to say that I was alive to see a dream come true. It is not everyday that one gets to see two million people come out in support of a president. It is not everyday that one gets to see millions of people brace a freezing weather just to see a man sworn in as president. I have defintely never seen such public support in my entire life. I would love to think that our independence day must have been like that. Perhaps it was like that. People taking to the streets to dance and welcome a new era of freedom from the colonial masters. Perhaps they too, ignored the weather and came out to show their support for change. Perhaps there has been such a thing as public support in this country. However, if there ever was such a thing, I would not know. In all my years alive in this country, I have never seen it.

That is why I was so jealous. Yes, throughout the ceremony, all I felt was an intense jealousy for the American people. How come, they can achieve all that? Why can’t we do the same? How come, they can choose their own man and we can’t? How come, they can see lively debates between opponents, and we can’t? How come, they can see their presidential candidates work hard in earning the people’s trust and we can’t?

I asked myself all those questions and unfortunately, I could not think of any good reason why we too, can not have the same in this country. Do we not deserve it? Surely, we have suffered enough in this country to start demanding changes. I too, would love to line up for hours and cast my vote without fear. I too, would love to hear inspiring speeches from the candidate I have chosen. I deserve all that and more from this country.

I refuse to have low expectations for this country. If the Americans can do it, then we too, can do it. Abi dem get two heads? They are human beings just like we are. They are no more special than what we are. They wanted change, they worked hard for it, and they got it. That is all there is to it. Without doing the work, we shall never get the rewards. There is no reward for the lazy man.

Worthy to be praised

2009-01-28T01:26:00.000-08:00

“It is better to choose the devil you know than the one you do not know” that is what my mother used to say when I was a child. It just meant when faced with two extreme situations, choose the one you know you can handle. Basically, choose “the familiar". While my mum's proverbs were usually about life and philosophy, my father's proverbs were usually about morals "cut your coat according to your size", "don't behave like the joneses", "birds of the same feather fly together", etc.

Being brought up by two people who had strong principles in life meant that I too developed rather quickly, a strong sense of right and wrong. Another favourite of mine, from my mother, was "don't paint the devil on the wall" which meant do not be negative about the future. But this article is not about my mother, or my late father, or being raised by them.

It is about the fact that we have somehow forgotten why we praise people in this country. Do we praise people for achievement? For being a role model? A stand up citizen? For being a hero? For a job well done? Who is worthy to be praised?
I was never praised without a reason as a child. To get praise, I had to do something that was worthy to be praised. Good grades in school, or being helpful in the house, or being kind and decent to all those around me. Nobody praised me if i was naughty or being intolerable. The rules are simple enough. Do something that is worthy of being praised, and you shall be praised.

However, the people we “praise” in this country continue to puzzle me. Now, I do not know how others have been brought up, or what their own parents told them, but the fact that we continue to not only accept corrupt human beings but also praise them, shows very clearly how baseless our values in the society have become. Before we adorn human beings with all sorts of crowns on their head, can we not ask the simple question, “What exactly have you done that is worthy to be praised?”I am constantly astonished about the way we so easily praise dishonest and corrupt human beings in our midst.

Yet, those that live honest lives are seen as “weak”, unable to hustle for their share of the national cake. That is what the small minded would think. Unable to understand, that there are so many people still in this country that hold fast to principles and morals. The same ones we were ALL taught as children. These people are the ones that still keep our hopes for a better Nigeria alive.

Let us start celebrating those that earn their living doing an honest day’s work. Let us celebrate those that still dare to stand up and do the right thing. For the men and women in Nigeria who will probably never see a morsel of the national cake.

For those whose futures are dependent on their own abilities and not who they know.

Let us celebrate the teachers, the nurses, the doctors, the journalists, the ordinary people who work so hard for their daily bread.
Let us celebrate them because they are the ones who show our children that there is still pride in hard work.

Let us praise them, because they are worthy to be praised.

Na only Abuja get street light?

2009-01-11T15:22:00.000-08:00

I have prayed to God to enable me start this year with a positive attitude but this country will not let me. Every day, as I read one story after another, my cynicism and pessimism slowly creeps back in.I have read a lot of stories during my time writing this column. Stories that have alarmed me so much that I began to doubt the sanity of our leaders. From Madam Etteh’s massage beds to Ibori’s air conditioned prison cell, many stories have been too good to be true.

However, this next story is the one that made me exclaim, “tufiakwa! Una don craise finish for dis country!” As usual, I was reading my daily dose of Nigerian news (a task that many Nigerians must have abandoned, if not, they will be out protesting at this very moment) when I saw a story in the Vanguard titled “Aliero denies move to power Abuja with generators” dated 9th, January 2009.

In this article, it seems the minister of the Federal Capital Territory Administration, was trying to deny statements which had formerly been given to journalists about powering Abuja streets with generators. He now attested that it was not “the whole of FCT” that will be powered with generators.

First of all, who was that human being that thought that using generators to power the streets of any city was a good idea? Who brought up that harebrained idea and who were the others that actually listened to such stupidity?

Such an idea is an insult to my intelligence and to the people of this nation. It’s very clear that using generators will not solve the problem in the long run. We all know that. Case closed. However, because of the necessity to function as a society, we have all been forced into accepting generators as if they are the norm of the society. It is not normal and has never been. We are polluting our environment seriously and blatantly wasting the earth’s resources because of our laziness in solving this problem. When countries all over the world are investing strongly in the conservation of the environment, Nigeria is doing the opposite. Again, we insist on moving backwards. Abuja is situated in the right area where solar energy can actually be considered as a means to solving the electricity problem. Yet, did anybody come up with such an idea? No. We hate to see the utilization of resources, we rather squander them. The earth that has given Nigeria so much is to be raped and abused as we want.

If the government goes ahead with this ridiculous idea, I would love to see who benefits from such a contract. Who shall supply the generators? Who shall supply the diesel? Who shall build the generator plants? In fact, I want to know who will supply the “pure water” for the labourers as those plants are being built. I have no idea how all this is supposed to be cheaper than investing in improving our own electricity.

Have you ever heard of the capital of a nation, powering its streets with generators? This nation baffles me. Most of the Niger-Delta is engulfed in darkness, hospitals are almost non-functional because of the lack of power supply, and this is the priority of the government? Street lights in Abuja? I understand the need for the capital of the nation to be safe for its citizens but surely we can come up with a better solution?

Using generators to power street lights is just a short term solution. The problem of electricity in Nigeria has to be solved once and for all. As long as we keep falling back on generators, Nigeria is not ready to move forward on this issue. I implore the government of Nigeria to show more determination and strength of character on this matter. I strongly believe this problem can be solved if we pursue it relentlessly instead of relying on the usual half measures we so easily succumb to.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

In the mood for something else...

2009-01-11T15:18:00.000-08:00

It is 2009! Unlike many people in Nigeria, I did not spend the first hour of the New Year in church. No sir! I prayed a silent prayer at home and happily danced my way into the New Year. I was still in this mood when a good friend of mine called to complain about a New Year message delivered to the women of Nigeria on N.T.A by our first Lady. Apparently, the message had been that they (the women of Nigeria) should “obey their husbands”. In the mood I was in, I was determined not to get upset by such a message. I am trying to be optimistic about my country. That is my New Year resolution. I am sure our first Lady did not have a speech at hand; perhaps she was caught off guard? Or perhaps it was just too hard to say something to the women of Nigeria? Maybe I should give it a shot? See what we can come up with?
Nancy Reagan once said “A woman is like a teabag. It's only when she's in hot water that you realize how strong she is”. You have so much power in your hands and yet you do not know it. You make up 50% of the population and yet, you walk around as if you are a nobody. You have been fed lies for years and these lies have scarred you. Your soul has become weary and you now drag the burden of these lies with you.
Yet, you are the same woman who they said would never go to school. You are the same woman who they said would never be able to vote. Would never drive a car, fly an airplane, go to space. You are the same woman who they said would become worthless with age. You would be a nobody. Useful only for keeping their food and bed warm.
Is it not time, my dear sisters that you take your rightful place in the society? Is the water not hot enough now for you to show your true strength? Is it not time to...

I would have written more but then the government would have to pay me for my efforts. After all, shebi dem get people wey dem dey pay to write speech? Abi all of dem still dey on vacation?

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

WAFFY AWARDS 2008

2008-12-29T07:59:00.000-08:00

Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen, to the Second annual Waffy awards where Nigerian people and places are awarded for their contributions to different areas of entertainment. Last year, we saw winners such as the House of Assembly (best comedy sequence) the Niger Delta (best action sequence) and James Ibori (best drama sequence). We also had gracious losers such as Madam Etteh and Orji Kalu.

This year‘s awards proves to be just as exciting with our new nominees.

Once again, I’d like to state that all nominees were voted by a panel of expert judges. The awards cannot be contested and all forms of complaint will not be looked into, although suggestions will be taken into consideration.

BEST ACTION SEQUENCE 2008

Nominees:
1) Jos
2) Niger Delta

And the winner is the beautiful city of Jos. They successfully snatched this award from last year’s winner, the Niger Delta. Even though the Niger Delta tried to hold on to this award with their constant kidnappings, the city of Jos took the violence to even more dangerous grounds by allowing religious and tribal factors into the matter. A cocktail of violence that even the south-south could not match up with.

BEST DRAMA SEQUENCE 2008

Nominees:
1) Yar’Adua
2) Mallam Nuhu Ribadu
3) Mallam El-Rufai
4) EFCC

All contestants in this category deserve to win this prestigious award; unfortunately, there can only be one winner. However, we shall have a roundup of all the drama surrounding each contestant. The first runner up, Mallam El-Rufai was very strong in this category. Thirty two billion naira missing, land allocations, unaccounted funds, NIPOST land, PHCN land, etc etc. The EFCC has just declared him wanted. Apparently he is now a student in the United States (Seriously!). The second runner up, our very own president, thrilled us for days with speculations about his absence. While some feared he was dead, others put him at the location of a hospital in Saudi Arabia. The country was at a standstill as we all waited for his re appearance. I have to say, it was most entertaining! The EFCC of course, needs no introduction; this institution has become a serious source of drama with their constant output of confusing facts and figures. As you can see, the decision was a tough one but our winner indeed deserves this award.

The winner is Mallam Nuhu Ribadu! Surely, this contestant deserves to be honoured for the never ending drama surrounding his person. Let us take a quick look at the recent events in his life. First, he was promoted, then he was demoted, then they sent him (by force oh!) to NIPSS, then they denied him his graduation (why dem send am there in the first place?) now, dem don dismiss am from Police force. Haba! Abeg, im win am hands down!

BEST COMEDY SEQUENCE 2008

Nominees:
1) EFCC
2) House of Assembly

There is no need to explain why the House of Assembly is a constant source of entertainment. Their useless bickering over inconsequential matters is always a source of pure comedy any day and anytime.

However, the winner this year would have to be the EFCC with their missing files! Haba! I don laugh tire for this matter. How files wan take miss? Dem get wings? Because I no wan believe say in the year 2008, una no get computer for that place. If na dat one be the problem, I take God beg una, make una use my laptop. I dash una! In fact, I volunteer to type everything. Free of charge. Missing files indeed! Abeg, make una no kill me with laughter.

As usual, the last award, COURAGE IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY goes to us, the people of Nigeria, for showing courage and tenacity in the face of all the action, drama and comedy.

Happy New year to all my readers!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

12 Christmas wishes for a very Waffy Christmas!

2008-12-21T05:55:00.000-08:00

1)There is light 24 hours in the day. Not “half current” oh, full current. Capable of carrying all appliances without destroying anything.

2)All pot holes are miraculously filled overnight. The Lagos/Benin expressway becomes a joy to behold. No craters, no pot holes and no accidents. The whole journey takes only four hours. Halleluja!

3)Midnight crusades and night church is abolished. No more noise making in the middle of the night. We can now all sleep in peace and the Lagos /Ibadan expressway is finally cleared. Amen.

4)People become disciplined, learn how to queue up and stop hustling like mad people when using public transportation.

5)All okadas now have their own lanes and their passengers now wear helmets.

6)All the mobile networks now work efficiently and you can call anybody at anytime, anywhere without getting high blood pressure.

7)In the spirit of Christmas, all armed robbers decide to take a holiday and learn how to swim, dance the salsa and play Badminton. All within the premises of Aso Rock.

8)All TV stations now show great films throughout the holiday and not only Jesus of Nazareth, Part 1-3. (NTA, please, stop using archaic graphics. Somebody please send them the memo. We are in 2008!)

9)The area boys of Lagos are having their annual Christmas conference and therefore, will be away the whole season. Praise God!

10)The Police men at the sides of the road have all become born again Christians and instead of asking for “something”, they now ask “have you received Christ into your life”?

11)The chicken sizes in Sizzlers are well proportioned (Is it me, or do they reduce the sizes of those chickens every other day?)

12)We all get a gift from the government thanking us for still being citizens of this country.

Merry Christmas to all my readers!

P.S: If una wan invite me for Christmas chicken, make una no shame, just send my invitation to waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

I am sorry I do not speak your language!

2008-11-23T10:54:00.000-08:00

I am one of those people that have been born “tribeless”, not because I do not have a tribe but because I just happen to have been brought up in Warri where we have made our very own “waffy” tribe. You can have a Hausa first name and an Ishan surname, as far as you were born and raised in Warri, you are a Waffarian. However, if you are “originally” from Warri but have never lived here, then no, you are not qualified to be a Waffarian. If you do not know where the following places are: Agbaro, Orhuwhorun, Ovwain, Igbo market, Bendel Estate, Nana College, Jakpa junction, then please, drop that dream. You are not a Waffarian. Entering an Okada does not qualify you and neither does having a love for “banga soup”. However, if you still insist on becoming a Waffarian, then send your CV and a letter stating why you would like to become a Waffarian. The best letter would be published in this column next week. Send all letters to waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Warri is a melting pot for so many languages and traditions that it is impossible to identify yourself with just one. I have never had any friends that have been strongly rooted in any particular tribe or culture. However, there are many Nigerians that are so strongly rooted in their language and culture that the thought of another person not speaking their own language might be quite displeasing to them. I am constantly baffled why people expect me to know their values and traditions when I do not have any affinity with them. I respect all tribes equally. I do not respect one above the others. That is why at this age, the thought that I might be at a disadvantage because I am not from a particular tribe is very troubling.

I have always believed that people should be judged by the content of their character and not by the language they speak. I have had more in common with a Tiv farmer’s daughter than with a minister’s daughter in Abuja. I might have more in common with an Italian cook (we both like food) than with a Nigerian pastor (I can’t stand their hypocrisy). It all depends on your principles in life. What is important to you? Who are you?

I do not believe I should be friends with other human beings just because they speak the same language as I do. I base my friendships on character and not on language, creed or colour. Today, there are many cases of marriages gone sour because of the insistence on marrying another human being from one’s own tribe, even though the two personalities might be incompatible. In fact, I know many people that have told me that they would not be able to marry someone who does not speak their language (I sure say my waffy people no concern dat one, as far as you fit scatter pidgin English, we dey happy). This to me is quite amusing. Why limit your world when you can do so much? Why limit your world to your own language and culture? Nigeria is a country blessed with so much diversity that it is a shame that people cannot see the beauty in it. When we learn from other cultures, we enrich ours. When we speak another language, we open ourselves to a world of new stories, new proverbs, new lessons. Learning another language can never be a detriment to anybody. We should be proud of our cultural diversity. We should be willing to acknowledge and be proud of the people that take the time and effort to learn the ways of others.

No, I do not speak your language. Do not ask me “why” I do not speak your language. Your language is not the only one in Nigeria. However, I am willing to learn your language for my own sake not for yours. The question is, are YOU willing to learn MY language? (no be say I get language oh but I fit give you intensive course for pidgin English).

P.S: All those market women for Effurun wey don turn the road wey dem just build na na to bicycle lane, I take God beg una, comot all those una nonsense from that road. Haba! Dem build that road for motor, no be for una to dey sell una goods.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

The Nigerian Inquisition

2008-11-16T05:35:00.000-08:00

In the 15th century, Europe was the center of the most heinous crimes committed against humanity in the name of Christianity. People were accused, put on trial, tortured and sometimes killed. In a bid to escape the wrath of the inquisition trials, people not only incriminated themselves but were forced to accuse others as well. This created an atmosphere of fear and paranoia amongst family and friends and it was not long before all sorts of fantastic accusations were being thrown about. One of the many accusations one could come up with was to accuse another person of “witchcraft”. Of course, this was in the 15th century and so it is understandable that the minds of illiterates could go no further than this. It is therefore with great shame and disgust that I now have to write about a similar sort of “inquisition” going on in our country today. These disgusting and inhumane trials are spearheaded by Helen Ukpabio.

You see, if someone had told me she was the wife of Lucifer, chances are I would laugh and not even think twice about such an absurd statement. However, in the case of Helen Ukpabio, I sincerely believe that she has been a wife of Lucifer and continues to mate with him in his bed of evil. Helen Ukpabio is the founder of “Liberty Foundation Gospel Ministry” and author of the book, “The Seat of Satan Exposed”. According to Helen, she was betrothed to Lucifer at the young age of fourteen and was trained in “concepts of mysticism, occultism, spiritism, satanism, demonism and general cultism” (don’t ask me what “spiritism” means, I always thought it was another name for “ogogoro” and as for the difference between “occultism” and “general cultism”, I am guessing the Satanic world has its very own English language which we mere mortals cannot decipher).

I have no problems with people being wives or husbands of anybody in heaven or hell. We all make our choices in life; after all, if people are wives and girlfriends of Jesus, I see no reason why people cannot be wives or girlfriends of Lucifer. Na dem sabi. Everybody with im own, wetin concern bicycle with filling station?
It only becomes my concern when people decide to attack the weak and innocent for their own devious and egoistic purposes. When anybody attacks a child, it becomes my concern and it should become your concern too. When a grown adult decides to attack children that cannot defend themselves then it becomes the place of other adults in the society to defend the children.

The “Liberty message”, according to its website, concentrates on expository series on witchcraft, false religion, marine spirit, demonology, deliverance, renunciation, first born male and curses/reversal(once again, do not attempt to find the meanings of these words in your dictionary, you have to have the “Modern Satanic Dictionary”). It is very clear, that whilst other churches are focusing on the “word of God” and a message of love, peace and happiness, Helen Ukpabio has decided to focus on delivering human beings from the hands of Satan.

Once again, I really have no problem with Helen practicing her deliverance skills on other human beings. If those human beings are adults and with their own two legs, decide to seek her out to know their “witchcraft status” (people wey never do A.I.D.S test oh meanwhile dem don do witchcraft test), that is their business. However, Helen does not only deliver adults. Instead, she has decided to concentrate also on the small and helpless in the society. Children who cannot defend themselves. Many of them do not even understand what is happening. Many of them still babies….these are the people that Helen has decided to practice her deliverance skills on.

In Akwa Ibom State today, there are hundreds of children being tortured, starved, beaten and separated from their families, all because Helen Ukpabio has labeled them as witches. Why is it the little children that are always the witches in every family? It is easy to pick a baby as a witch. A baby has no voice, a baby cannot defend itself, a baby is just… a baby.

I dare Helen Ukpabio to fight with demons her own size. I dare her to cast the demon out of me. Come and deliver me, please. Out of two of us, we go see who go cast demon comot from who. Helen Ukpabio should stop pretending she was ever delivered. It is obvious she is still very much the wife of Lucifer and is zealously doing his work here on earth.

I implore the Nigerian government, the governor of Akwa Ibom state and all sane citizens of this nation to stand up for the rights of these children. We must become the voice that they do not have and tell Helen Ukpabio to go and pick on demons her own size. I am sure since she is such a demon expert there must be many more adult demons that would keep her busy ministry occupied. Leave the children alone!

P.S: Congratulations to Comrade Oshiomhole! Yes we MUST!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Do you dare to be part of history?

2008-11-09T11:49:00.000-08:00

A young writer friend of mine convinced me to stay up all night last Tuesday. I have never been a fan of American politics, especially since the unfortunate war in Iraq and the election of George Bush. I thought they had all gone nuts, like the rest of the world. However, my friend looked me dead in the eye and asked “do you not want to be part of history?” A question that needed no answer. I stayed up all night, congratulating my friend, as though it was he who was winning, as though it was he who would be the next president of America.

I am thankful I stayed up to watch history made, thankful I stayed up to hear the inspiring speech Barack Obama gave. If there was anything I got from that unforgettable night, it is the irrefutable fact that there is nothing we cannot achieve with hard work, discipline and persistence. There is nobody that can stop us as a nation if only we dare to try. If only we dare to say like Obama did, “yes we can!”. There are many things to be done and we must start right now, we must start today. How long do we sit and listen to the politicians, the so called God fathers and their cronies tell us that it is “impossible?” How long do we believe the lies of the greedy and the corrupt when they tell us that we shall never be a democracy? That the power in Nigeria belongs to a group of old men who shall never die? We are more than a hundred million people and yet we believe the lies of a few corrupt old men? When they tell us we shall never make it, perhaps it is time for us too, to rise up and say “Yes we can!”

On the third of November 2008, a young woman was beaten and stripped off her clothes by the convoy of Rear Admiral Harry Arogundade. What was her crime, you might ask? Well apparently, Uzoma Okere did not move out of the road fast enough for the power hungry Admiral and his band of animals. I watched with horror at the video as this young woman was beaten in broad day light. I cried not because of the brutality of a band of cowardly men but because of the two groups of people that witnessed this incident. Those who dared to say something and those that just stood there…and did nothing.

The Navy dared to behave like animals, they dared to do whatever they liked but we the people, we are always so afraid to stand up for our rights. He who does not dare shall never win. Until the day people would stop staring like useless beings and start being active, this country will always remain in the hands of a few corrupt old men. We are more than a hundred million, and amongst us, are there no few good men left? Is there nobody that will stand up, and dare to say “yes, we can?”

I want to believe that we as a nation will one day rise up and say, with one voice, enough is enough! That we shall dare to open our mouths and let our voices be heard when we see our brothers and sisters treated like animals. That we shall dare to confront injustice and believe in ourselves. It shall take time; maybe years but with hard work, discipline and persistence, we shall get there. Most of all, we must believe in ourselves and in our own abilities. So that when another Uzoma Okere stands up for her rights, we shall not stand around like starry eyed goats but we shall join her in her fight and be part of history. Let us dare to be right, let us dare to determine the course of our own history, let us dare to be part of history.

P.S: Meanwhile, all these convoys self, me I dey wonder where dem expect person to comot go self. See our roads, the traffic, plus okadas, hawkers, beggars, the whole road full remain. Sometimes I dey wonder whether dem think say person car get wings wey go just begin flap dey go. Haba! If una wan make people dey clear road for una, ehen, make una build big big roads dem, in fact make una build special lane self, only for una convoy. And no be say na better thing una dey go do oh. E fit be say na hunger be dey waya the man. I thank God say na swamp I dey stay, na me and mosquito dey share water.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

The infertile man

2008-11-02T05:39:00.000-08:00

I was reading my weekly newspapers last week on the internet when I came across an article titled “The way out of barrenness” written by Pastor Johnson Omomadia in the Vanguard, Nigeria, 24 October 2008. I read the article with great amusement and I have decided to compliment some of the missing facts in Pastor’s Omomadia’s well researched article on “barrenness”.

In his article, Pastor Johnson says that “To be barren means unfruitful, sterile, childless, deserted, uncultivated, dryness and something or someone that does not produce after its/his kind”. I therefore assumed that Pastor Johnson was referring to both men and women since both sexes can be affected by such a condition. He however only gives us examples of women in the Bible who were barren and warns us that is “forbidden” to be barren. At that point, I was filled with fear for all women with infertility problems all over Nigeria. What on earth were they now supposed to do? I imagined women committing suicides all over the country…I mean if it is “forbidden”, then what other choice do they have?

However, he does not suggest that infertile women start committing suicides all over the country, instead he tells us that “intercession brings fruitfulness” (with God that is) and then proceeds to advertise his bank account number at the end of his article where “financial seeds” can be planted and I am guessing his intercession with God will then work its miracles.

I would like to point out a few points the good pastor missed in his article. If infertility in women is forbidden in his version of the Bible, then I suppose infertility in men must be forbidden as well. Men can also can be “dry”, “uncultivated”, “and deserted”. If a man is impotent, then I am sure he is also “unfruitful”, “sterile”, and “childless”. I am very sure the pastor did not attend any medical school since he forgot to state the different factors that might cause a man to be unable to produce children. Just in case our pastor decides to immerse himself further into the world of “barrenness”, let me give him some common causes of male infertility. Disorders of the sperm numbers, shapes or movement are quite common. Testicular injuries or diseases, genetic disorders, hormonal problems, etc. There are many causes of male infertility that I am sure the pastor would like to mention next time he chooses to write about “a way out of barrenness”.

Also, should he choose to write a “part two” on the matter, it would be helpful if he can also find some examples of male infertility in the Bible, since that is where he gets his abundant knowledge of medical terms and conditions.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Who is afraid of the internet?

2008-10-26T02:51:00.000-07:00

The internet for many young Nigerians is the place to get news, information and sometimes even knowledge. In a country whose history with the media has not always been too “cordial”, it is sometimes necessary to read news about Nigeria through online sources. Not because online sources are more reliable but sometimes online sources are able to publish stories that many Media houses in Nigeria will not touch with a ten foot pole. They are able to criticize our leaders and give honest opinions in matters concerning our country. They are also free from being “shut down” by the SSS and the Nigerian government.

In the midst of all the different sites and news agencies online, are also blogs. Blogs are online journals published by individuals on the internet. Most blogs are like diaries, with the blogger sharing his or her personal life, ideas and opinions. A blogger can decide to share his views on flowers, children, coffee… basically anything he/she wants. Some blogs focus on politics. They put up news about different political issues and share their opinions on the matter.

The numbers of Nigerian blogs dealing with political issues have slowly increased on the internet over the years. Some blogs publish only news about Nigeria while others might share their opinions or engage in lively discussions. For the young, blogs are where the debates happen. Since Nigerian Television Channels and newspapers often do not pose the hard questions to our leaders, (which is totally understandable when one considers the number of journalists that have been assassinated in this country) normal citizens have taken over and are now asking the questions that Nigerian journalists and correspondents fear to address.

Many bloggers are anonymous but there are also a few that choose to blog without any anonymity whatsoever. Jonathan Elendu is one of the many bloggers who uses his real identity online. He maintains a blog that features news and political articles about Nigeria and of course, does not blog from Nigeria. He has however been arrested or rather “invited” by the SSS on arrival to the country. I think Nigeria is certainly going backwards if the government insists on arresting citizens because of news articles published on the internet. The internet is too huge a place to wage war on.

How many more bloggers do they wish to arrest? There are thousands and thousands of people all over the world that publish stories and news about Nigeria daily. Even for an experienced blog reader, it is impossible to keep up with the number of articles being published about Nigeria. From students to pharmacists, pilots to teachers, it seems everybody has something to say about Nigeria.

For the first time in a very long time, Nigerians are actively participating in discussions about the future of our Nation. People are engaged, committed and ready to help our country in any way they can. It will be a shame if this has to end because of a few articles that the government does not approve of. There are many articles all over the internet that I do not enjoy reading. However, unlike our government, I do not have the ability to arrest anybody just because I disapprove of the kind of stories they publish. I do not have the power and I hope I never do. Power is a dangerous tool and a country that continues to use such a tool against its own citizens is heading for doom.

P.S: If una dey find me, I don enter my canoe go swamp. Tufiakwa! SSS is not my portion! E be like say e dey safer to stay with those militants them, at least I hear say them dey feed their victims well well!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Indecent dancing ke?

2008-10-19T03:03:00.000-07:00

My people, if I tell una say I don tire for this country! Haba! Every day, new wahala, as one nonsense finish, another one go begin!

I don’t even know if I can be shocked any more with the kind of issues our government gives priority to these days. After all, let’s not forget that we still have that preposterous “indecent dressing bill” hanging over our heads. Yes, things are as usual, as senseless as it can be, our government just can’t get their priorities right. What is their latest venture you might ask? Well my dear friends, you will be sad to know that our government, with all the serious issues we have in this country, have chosen “dance” as the next art form to attack. The Kano State Censorship Board has recently arrested two artists, Rabilu Musa Danlasan, alias Dan Ibro and co-artist Lawan Kunawa, for indecent dancing! (I know oh, meself, I don laugh tire!).

According to the censorship board, “indecent dancing” is against the Kano State Censorship Law, and therefore, the two artists have to be punished for apparently polluting the citizens of Kano state with their dancing. To say the truth, I am still in shock that there is actually a law in the year 2008 that prohibits any kind of dancing at all. How on earth do they judge if a particular performance is decent or not? Is there a list of the kinds of dance that is permitted in Kano? I can imagine that shaking certain parts of the human body is definitely forbidden, but after that, what else? Okay, don’t shake “this and that”, but what if I dance “the twist”, “running man” or “break dance”? Which ones are permitted and which ones are not? What about Ballet? Is this allowed? Modern, Jazz, Tap dancing? Contemporary, Ball room, Fox trot, Waltz?

As ridiculous as it seems to arrest anybody for dancing, it is even more ridiculous to arrest somebody for dancing in a film made when the so called “censorship law” was nonexistent! Now, think people, does this make sense? Let me break it down for those that do not still get it.Imagine if you have cooked with pepper all your lives. Any pot of soup you made, you put pepper in it. Now one day, you wake up and there is a new law saying you cannot cook with pepper, so you stop putting pepper in your food. Now imagine how shocked you will be if you are suddenly arrested for a pot of soup you made two years ago!If people still do not get what the problem is, then I am afraid our education system has to be re evaluated. It just does not make sense, no matter how you look at the issue.

There have been many assertions as to why these two artists were arrested. However, I feel there is no need to even waste our time speculating “why” in this case. Let us simply tell the truth. The truth is that the Kano state censorship board is pursuing a case that is totally illogical and in my opinion, perhaps one of the most absurd things I have ever heard. In fact, I don’t know which takes the prize, “indecent dressing” or “indecent dancing" ( e be like say we dey obsessed with this “indecent” word!).

P.S: Imagine if we get these kain laws for our side! Chei! Dem for don arrest all our governors finish! Those ones wey sabi dance “indecently” anyhow! Abeg, I no fit laugh again. Meanwhile, if anybody get the films, abeg, make una try send am to me. Me self, I wan see this kain “indecent dancing” wey reach to put person for prison! Haba!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Hide and Seek in the workplace

2008-10-12T05:07:00.000-07:00

There are many young women in Nigeria today desperate for jobs. A job can mean a roof over their heads or a medical bill for a loved one. A bag of rice for grandparents in the village or school fees for siblings. A job sometimes can be a matter of life or death. This is the situation many young women are faced with and this is the situation that many men have decided to take advantage of.

The offices of many men these days have now become a place to harass and terrorize these young women. Their desks now become the main player in this game. Women run around desks, begging as they make another circle, “please sir”, while the lecherous man says, “Come on, be a big girl”. As ridiculous as this situation sounds, as devoid of dignity as you may think it is, many old men are ready to sprint around a desk with great agility. Men that have not taken a walk in years will become athletes in a matter of seconds. You will be surprised to learn that many of these men have daughters, sisters and mothers. Many are “pillars of the society” and “elders” in churches.

For some reason, even though we see this disgusting behavior, we have chosen to turn a blind eye. Even when these young women report such situations, nobody seems to think that anything “bad” has taken place. What kind of society do we live in? What kind of society allows its daughters to be haunted like animals? What kind of society produces men that hunt like animals?

Our men it seems have become animals with no self control. They now believe that because they are “men”, they somehow now have the exclusive rights to “lack of control”. In many discussions all over Nigeria, men will tell you they are “created” that way. Somehow, while God was giving control and other honorable virtues to human beings all over the world, the Nigerian man was either sleeping or did not get the “memo”. It is time we stop fooling ourselves. The Nigerian man is no different than any other man in the world and unless you can fly or climb skyscrapers, then you are just a normal human being. Therefore, since you are just normal, then I expect you to behave like a normal human being.

Take for example, a man in the office. Your job in the office is to work and act as a professional. Your job is not to chase women around your desk. When did the office become the Nigerian man’s hunting ground? For those still wondering why nothing is being done in our country, now you know. People are playing “hide and seek” instead of working! As we dey talk for Warri, men dey carry woman matter for head pass government work.

I am tired of Nigerian men thinking that they can get away with anything. When you harass a woman in that way, it is called “sexual harassment” and you can be sued. As for the companies that turn a blind eye to this disgusting behavior by their employees, shame on you!

Finally for the men, let me tell you a secret. You can control yourself. Drink a glass of cold water and read your Bible or whatever religious scripture that suits you. If that does not help your situation, then I advise you to call your wife immediately, get on the nearest okada and hurry home. If you do not have a wife, it does not matter, get home and have a cold shower. I am told this always solves the problem.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Independent wishes

2008-10-05T05:33:00.000-07:00

I wish all the big men over forty-five in politics would give us a break and just retire. I seriously doubt that they have anything else to contribute in this country.

I wish young people would start taking an interest in politics and do what they can to change the little they can. We cannot expect anybody to do anything if there is actually nobody.

I wish our government would one day get their priorities right instead of putting their time, energy and money into the wrong projects.

I wish people would wake up and be more active and stop pretending they’ve gone blind when they see wastage and irresponsibility.

I wish the government would use people that have the right credentials for a job instead of hiring relatives and every Tom Dick and Harry from their village.

I wish people would stop blaming the government for everything and instead start doing the little they can in their communities. If you think you can do a better job, then stand up and say so.

I wish the government would give people that come with suggestions and alternatives the chance to participate. Even if you do no not want to work, good for you, but how about giving the person that wants to, a chance?

I wish people could spend as much time and energy in their communities as they spend in their churches, mosques or shrines. If we could show just ten percent of the sort of dedication we show in religion, half of our problems would be solved.

I wish the government would solve the Niger-Delta crisis and stop this unnecessary violence and unrest in the region.

I wish the people of the Niger-Delta would do their part and hold their leaders responsible for the state of the region today.

I wish the oil companies would stop exploiting a situation that is infected with corruption, greed and bad leadership.

I wish the people would work in partnership with the oil companies to clean up the polluted regions and allow peace to reign.

I wish the young people could think of something better to do than kidnapping and sabotage.

I wish the government would give the unemployed youth a chance for a better life and future.

I wish people would stand up and protest about the light situation. How long will you continue to live in darkness?

I wish there was a ban on generators so every single citizen in Nigeria suffers the same. Let us see if the situation would not be solved.

I wish we could be more disciplined, learn to stand in queues and stop causing chaos and panic in everyday situations.

I wish the government would enforce discipline in the society and make sure people know the rules that apply in the society. If the people do not know the rules, how do you expect them to follow them?

I wish people would start getting ready for the next elections and think about the change they can bring about in the society by voting for the right people.

I wish the right people would dare to take part next time around so that people would also dare to vote for them.

I wish the government and the people would understand that we cannot come about change in this country if we do not work together. The government cannot do it alone and neither can the people but together, WE can do it.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

God’s time is the best

2008-09-28T05:26:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it is hard to accept time and its numerous forces. I am very patient with things I know I really can not affect. For example, natural disasters such as tornadoes, floods, erosions, volcanoes (which my economics teacher taught us was needed to check “overpopulation”, without such disasters, human beings will take over the planet earth and resources will never be enough ). Those kinds of situations, yes, I do have patience because I know I cannot do anything to change it. However, there are many other things in life that we can affect. We can affect the environment we live in, we can affect the people we choose to lead us and we can affect the kind of citizens we want to be. We can choose to be active or passive in our society. We have all these choices to make in life, yet so many people choose to live their lives dragging themselves through it as if they have no voice and no stake in it.

There are many times I have seen people shrug away decisions. For every question, their answer is the inevitable “I don’t care” or “whatever” or “wetin concern me? I am a very impatient human being, I want things to happen and I want them to happen now. That is why I am often impatient with people who drag their feet. There is nothing more irritating than hearing those sounds against the floor. It is a disease in Nigeria....the dragging of slippers across the floor, people walking as if they have all the time in the world. Everybody waiting and waiting…waiting for something to happen but nobody doing anything about it.

I guess that’s why I can’t stand people that sleep a lot too. Why are you sleeping? Is there really nothing better for you to be doing? Yes, you need it for your health, but surely, twelve hours must be enough? There's a certain "decadence" that I can't really explain…men sleeping...while others are hard at work...of course people can sleep when they want to... but think about it...there is nothing uglier than arriving at a place of employment and seeing someone scrawled fast asleep on a bench or mat.

I am so sick and tired of waiting for "God's time is the best"...that's why we are all in the same mess we were yesterday. I cannot stand this "time " thing, it just keeps going and going, it never stops...how can people just sit at the side lines and watch it continue? Please don't tell me to stop and enjoy the fresh air, flowers, etc. I do that all the time, there is no one that appreciates life and death more that I do. I am a fan.

People always say "there is a time for everything", yeah, that’s why things never change right? I believe if you want things to happen in your life, you have to make a move, you have to start something, anything.

Wake up, people!

P.S: Make I use style salute one of my brothers wey get birthday. Happy birthday oh, chop my own remain. God bless you quadruple times! Amen.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

The rule of law and all that Jazz!

2008-09-21T10:47:00.000-07:00

So, finally, this “rule of law” business has been revealed for what it is, another fraud, a fake, and a 419. Rule of law indeed! You know, I have always been suspicious of this “rule of law” business, it seemed too good be true, especially with our history of military bullies and harassment. Well, it seems I was right to be suspicious, the SSS’s decision to shut down Channels television shows that the “rule of law” is obviously just another phrase in the dictionary of our government that carries no weight. I hope we can now all stop fooling ourselves believing that our country is “democratic”. The fact that journalists were also arrested and others “invited” for interviews should make the citizens of this country very wary of our government. However, it is not only citizens of this country that are being bullied and harassed under the name of “national security”. Recently, an American journalist was arrested and ultimately deported for daring to enter the Niger Delta. It seems any news that does not paint our country in a “beautiful” light is now deemed a breach of security, treason, causing unrest, etc. Is our government that paranoid? Are things so unstable and delicate in the government? I don’t know why everybody is so nervous and jumpy. Or is it a case of “the guiltieth runneth when no man chaseth”?

Whilst I do not support the spreading of false information, yet, the use of the word “might” should not cause a country and government to go crazy with fear. I remember watching with fascination as the whole world waited for Clinton to “resign” during his trying term in office. Everybody thought he would, correspondents all over the world said he “might”.....nobody ended up getting locked up because of such speculations. In fact, our government should be thankful that our media houses are not as nosy as their western counterparts where even the President’s underwear would be subject to speculation. Does he wear boxers or white pants? T-shirts or singlets?
If only they would put as much effort into rounding up those militants as they put into the arrest of editors and journalists. Of course, journalists are easier to harass and bully, after all, their weapon of choice is nothing but a miserable pen. The government it seems is more afraid of the power of the pen than our Niger Delta militants. Speaking of our ever faithful brothers of the swamps, it seems they are determined to draw this government into a confrontation.

Funny enough, we get more news from Jomo Gbomo about what is happening down there than from our own government. This Jomo Gbomo guy seems to be very dedicated in sending out detailed information about their operations. This just goes to show that talent can be discovered even under unfortunate circumstances. Imagine if this man was in charge of information for the government, I am sure we would be informed of every last detail. What a pity! Such talent wasted on violence!

P.S:If anybody ask of me, make una tell dem say una no find me oh! Make una cast dem back from where dem dey come from! Tufiakwa! I return to sender!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

A youthful ministry

2008-09-19T04:30:00.000-07:00

Another week has gone by, we are still alive, the president is still alive and we have a brand new ministry! Yippy! I wonder what will happen with the NDDC? Perhaps they will go into the soothsayer business? Who knows? Maybe a kind of “cash and carry” kind of service….or if they get really ambitious, one would even be able to pay online and all, really high tech. After all, they all seem to be so knowledgeable in the art of magic, portions, juju, wizards, and other funny business. Anyway, I am sure they will all find something to do, no need to worry about them, they all seem to be a very creative lot!

However, before this ministry is formed, I would like to appeal to the president not to make the same mistakes like our past president has done with this issue. The main reason why we keep failing with the Niger Delta is that we keep engaging the wrong people in the matter. Unless we have become blind and deaf in this country, it is obvious that the main participants in this boiling mess are the youths. We have to engage the youths of the Niger Delta in this ministry. We have tried to engage the elders, the older men of our society and where has it led? It has led to more problems, more bribes, more disappearing funds, more hocus-pocus! Why do we keep engaging people that have shown us time and time again that they are not capable? When are we going to learn our lesson?

The youths of the Niger Delta are the ones complaining. They are the ones kidnapping, killing and causing unrest in the region. Now is the time for them to actively help in solving all the problems they have spent many days in the swamps fighting for. Now is the time for them to actively help rebuild their society. How can this be done? Is this possible, you may ask? Yes it is! Have you not heard of the child that stole from the cupboard of goodies yet when given the job to look after this cupboard, nothing went missing? The Niger Delta is this great cupboard, full of uncountable wonderful goodies and the little child that keeps stealing from this cupboard are the youths. We need to give them back responsibility and discipline.

How can we get them excited again about their futures? How can we get them away from the lure of the machine guns and easy money? How can you instill in these lost youths, the pride of hard work, discipline and commitment? I dare say, this will be the most important job for the new ministry. I think these are questions that the president needs to answer first and foremost before giving away posts in this new ministry.

The truth of the matter is, our elders have lets us down. Time and time again, they have deceived us. How long shall we let that happen? Let us not form another ministry for the greedy and pot bellied monsters. Let us form a youthful and energetic ministry, a ministry that is capable of coming up with new ideas and ready to face the challenges of a most volatile region.
This time around, we cannot afford to fail.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

P.S: I no wan laugh, but una read that speech wey Kinigbe give for im hand over? Chei! Laugh be wan kill me…eya…well, as im talk, God’s time is the best. Everything must to end one day. I wish am good luck oh!

And that is how I met Wole Soyinka....

2008-09-07T10:54:00.001-07:00

I swear it was a mistake. There was only one bed left...beside the old black gentleman with a laptop. The pool was empty but the beds were filled with red bodies, grilling themselves in the sun but there was one bed left.The man did not even notice me, he was busy staring at something on the grass..I thought he was asleep with his eyes open....you know how old people sleep funny. Anyway, so I was adjusting my bikini, the one I bought at some strange shop where they had nothing my size except for the bikini...all brown with some coloured dots here and there...childish I know...but it looked good on me...and my ass. Anyway, I am wondering if he is asleep when he suddenly looks up and still, I don't even know that it is him. He smiles at me, like he is giving me permission to sleep on the bed beside him...and it is then he says...

"Yes, you can stop staring, it is me"

I swear I thought he had gone nuts...maybe he thought I was a long lost grand child or something, so I just smile at him and relax on my sun bed or whatever it is called. Just at that moment, when I was finally getting comfortable on my bed, I hear...

"Would you like anything else Mr. Soyinka?"

Somebody shoot me! It is Wole Soyinka, so I sit up of course, you how you've always had so many questions for certain people? So of course, I could not miss this opportunity so I sit up and say...

"Are you going to swim later on?"

He looks at me like the lost grand daughter and says "No,I am not"

"Oh, Of course not...I understand...your hair"

"My hair?"

"Yes, I understand it must be such hard work taking care of your hair...you must always be so careful...seeing that its your trade mark...you know there's a hair style called "wole soyinka"? okay, I am not sure if there is, but I call anybody who has an afro "wole soyinka". I used to call a friend of mine that but then I realised her afro was not really like yours...it was more like Kramer's...in Seinfields...so I called her "Kramer". Anyway, but most artists want your kind of Afro...I have a friend...he looks terrible, I can't imagine why he won't cut the damn hair...he looks like a vagabond...a delinquent...he just looks terrible...and he won't cut his hair. He says he is growing his hair....he wants it to be like "wole soyinka". Imagine how many parents all over the world are going crazy over this hair business...anyway, that's not your fault....so what are you writing? Your next sequel?"

"Sequel to what?"

"Oh you know...that book, You must set forth at dawn your memoir?

"Have you read it?"

"I am sad to say I have not...I don't know, I have a peculiar habit...it’s like Chimanda's novel...Half of a yellow sun...I got it, free from a friend, did not pay a dime, guess how long it sat on my shelf? Over six months! Imagine! And it’s not like when I read it, I did not like it, no sir! quite the opposite. I did enjoy it...but I don't know...certain books...the sheer size of it...I am an impatient person, I read a book in a day...I don't have time for reading the same book two days in a row...or you know some people take weeks? even months? I could never do that...but you see, the problem is there are too many books to read...I don't want one book holding me back from reading others you know...not enough time in the world...but I will get around to reading it...it’s just why read only one book when you can read two or even three...but I will read it."

"So how long has my book been sitting on your shelf?"

"Oh, over a year now"

He goes back to staring at the grass and I look at him closely...his skin still looks good, not so much pigmentation...I wonder if he noticed my own skin...young...and smooth...if he worries about his skin at all...

"So do you use sun screen?"

"No, I don't"

"So how do you maintain it?"

"What?"

"Your hair. I bet you use those nice American products...something that ends with a "sheen" but not like our kessingsheen...something more Americanish....it must be hard though...for the other hair on your body...imagine just the hair on your head being famous...that must be hard for the rest"

"Well, it was nice to meet you...have fun swimming"

"Oh, it was nice to meet you too. I’ll try to read your book...as soon as possible"

And that is how I met Wole Soyinka.

Note: I will take it for a given that we all know that there is a Wole Soyinka in the world and that he did write a book called You Must Set Forth At Dawn, however the character in this story is a complete fiction. I have never met Wole Soyinka or any other person who bears that name.

Charity begins at home

2008-09-04T06:50:00.000-07:00

My dear readers, I have figured it out! I have finally figured out why our country is in such a mess. Before I disclose this new found secret, I‘d like to ask, how many of you have come home from work only to find your home in disarray? Things here and there, dirty plates in the kitchen, your children running amok in dirty clothes, everything upside down. Do you remember how you felt then? Was it a feeling of annoyance, irritation, frustration, anger? (all which leads to high blood pressure of course).Now, compare that feeling to when you came home and your house was clean, all the plates washed and dried in the kitchen, your children looking clean and smart, like little angels, everything in its place. How did you feel then? I am sure you felt happy or satisfied or even grateful. It felt good to be home, right?

Now, all you have to do is imagine that Nigeria is this home you have to see every single day. The roads are full of pot holes, over flowing gutters everywhere, mountains of rubbish by the road sides (Aba, take note), the unbearable noise from the generators…even I am already frustrated just writing all this. You see, my dear people, many problems we are facing today would be solved if only we could keep this country clean. I know many people would think that this is not important at all, but once again, I ask, have you ever been able to cook food in a dirty pot?

There is nothing that can be done properly in a messy environment and that is what Nigeria is, very messy indeed. How do we even think we can sort out the issue of corruption when we cannot tackle a simple matter (which should be common sense, by the way) like environmental sanitation? The reason Nigeria is in the mess it is in, is because we think we can solve the big issues without sorting first, the obvious ones. It is obvious that this country is dirty and it is obvious that we all need to do our part in cleaning up this mess we are all in. Lets us start with the little things and this leads me to the challenge I have for my dear readers this week.

1.Always carry a small “nylon” or “paper bag” in your bag (for the men, you can have it in your briefcase, for those that do not have either; I guess you’ll just have to carry it like that). Put all remnants of your snacks in it instead of throwing out the window. Banana peels, orange peels, pure water sachets, mango seeds, gala wrappings, i.e., anything that is considered as refuse. Throw this bag in the nearest refuse bin at home or at your office. Please do not leave it by the roadsides.

2.Implore your employers to make sure that all offices have refuse bins. Even the rubber ones will do.

3.Talk to your neighbors about your environment. What can you all do collectively to make your street cleaner? I am sure there are many people that would willingly contribute something, in cash or kind to have a cleaner street.

4.For those that have children, encourage them to use the refuse bin at home and perhaps even get them to pick up papers when they see them in public places.

5.When you see someone else polluting the environment, make sure you bring his /her attention to it.

Are these small things too much for us to do? Before we begin to reach for the big goals, perhaps we can all start with the small things that we, as citizens ought to do. Nigeria is our home, let’s keep it clean.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Insults and the workplace

2008-08-24T10:14:00.000-07:00

A good friend of mine recently narrated the most unbelievable story I have ever heard. She told me a female branch manager of one our big banks in Nigeria had asked her members of staff who had been unable to meet their monthly targets to “kneel down” as punishment. Now, that is not the part that is unbelievable because I know many people are capable of wanting to humiliate other human beings in any way they can. The part that is unbelievable is that her staff actually did it! They actually knelt down. Now, may I remind you all that this incident happened recently, in 2008. Of course I refused to believe it, “impossible” I screamed! My friend then informed me that in the world of banking, people were insulted on a daily basis. She told me that one former MD of a bank once asked his staff at MPR (monthly performance rating) if he was a married, the man said yes, asked if he had children, to which the man replied yes, he then asked his staff if when he gets home his children call him daddy or idiot.....because only an idiot can be doing so badly.

Many more horrendous stories such as these were narrated but we shall make do with these two. I doubt my readers need more examples to understand the kind of madness I am talking about. Yet, this is not particular to the banking world in Nigeria. In offices all over the country, people are being called “stupid”, “idiot”, “fool”, “useless” and other derogatory terms. In fact, I remember teachers being part of this madness. Teachers that call their students “mumu”, “olodo”, “stupid”, teachers that should know better are even a part of this social madness. However, I do not blame these human beings that believe it is their right to insult others anywhere and anytime they deem fit. I blame it on this ridiculous system of “respect your elders” that we have been initiated into as children.

As a child, I was taught to respect my elders and basically agree with whatever that “elder” said. Who are the elders? Well, basically, anybody that is older than you. That is why, as a child, you bowed your head down when an adult scolded you and told you what a stupid person you were. As long as this person was “your senior”, it was alright for you to be insulted and degraded. This degrading of yourself continued in boarding house (for those of you that did not go to boarding house, give praise and thanksgiving, your mental health is still intact) where you were basically a slave to everybody that was in a class ahead of you. Here, the insults become natural; it is a part of your life. You are “fool”, “stupid” “idiot”, and you will gladly answer to those names when you are being called. You now await your turn, when you can also enjoy calling juniors “fool”, “idiot” “stupid”. You are part of the system and the system is part of you.

However, as an adult, your “elders” are no longer those people that are older than you, but those people you call “Sir” or “Madam” (and anybody that has money). We have just replaced the “elder” tag with “Sir/Madam”, and allowed the system of insults to continue and why should it not?

I will tell you why it should not. First of all, such behavior is totally unprofessional and does not belong to the office. Anybody in such a professional setting, including the cleaners, drivers and security guards, ought to be respected and treated as a worthy human being. They are working for their money just as you are. They should be respected. In many countries, the cleaners can call the MD of a company by his first name, yes, you heard me right. In my university days, I called all my professors by their first names (it was a shock to my system, but once I got used to it, it was quite liberating) and nobody died. It is because we insist on this “Oga/Madam” nonsense that such people think it is their right to insult their subordinates.

Secondly, we are not kids anymore. Those days of bullying are long gone. We are grown men and women and we will fight for our rights.

P.S:And una mumu people wey dem go dey do like sheep anyhow, una no fit talk? Ehn? I swear, if na me, na rak we for rak that day. Kneel down indeed! Na for her head I for siddon! Nonsense and ingredience!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Letter to the president of Nigeria

2008-08-17T07:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Sir,

I hope this letter comes to you in good health, if so, praise be to Allah. I am so sorry for disturbing you as I know you must be so busy working hard for our dear country Nigeria. However, I must bring your attention to a very solemn matter. It has come to my attention that the chairman of the NDDC, Sam Edem, is seriously ill and at this very moment, unable to perform the duties he has been elected to do. He has admitted being under the spell of one Perekabowei Ogah aka Mathew Sonoma, a juju priest (soothsayer, babalawo, marabou, wizard, etc). According to the honorable chairman, he was “hypnotized” and during this “hypnosis”, the juju man did “yahooze” on him and managed to swindle him of 800 million naira. Now, whilst the juju man has denied these allegations, claiming that the chairman had hired him for all sorts of criminal intentions, including murder, that is not my paramount concern. My concern is making sure the NDDC is functioning as it should be. I believe at the moment, this is not so. Below are my reasons:

How can anybody do his job under “hypnosis”? I have never been hypnotized before but I am sure any psychologist would confirm that such a state is not the perfect condition for anybody to be working under. Especially not somebody in charge of such an important commission.

He has already given 800 million naira of the NDDC’S money away (I am assuming this money is from the NDDC as it is impossible to believe that anybody in Nigeria has such a fantastic amount of money at his disposal).

The chairman himself has admitted to being “drained” financially, psychologically and emotionally. Pray, tell me, how is this poor man supposed to carry out his duties?

The chairman has recently been “delivered” from satanic hands. I am sure the poor man needs his rest. If he has been under such a draining spell, then I am sure the exorcism of all the demons in his body must have left him weak.

He must need time to reconcile himself with our heavenly father and hopefully be washed with the Holy Spirit. All this takes an incredible amount of energy, one which our chairman does not have at the moment since he has been so “drained”.

I hope our dear president can understand this delicate situation and hopefully, relieve the chairman of his burden. It is obvious that his present condition is very grave. Leaving the commission in the hands of Sam Edem is not only dangerous, but very careless indeed.

Yours sincerely,
Waffy Waffarian.

P.S: Here’s wishing the chairman a speedy recovery!

Resource control hat

2008-08-10T04:39:00.000-07:00

Man to man is so unjust, children
You don't know who to trust
Your worst enemy could be your best friend
And your best friend your worst enemy…..
And who the cap fit…let them wear it…
Hypocrites and parasites
Will come up and take a bite
And if your night should turn to day
A lot of people would run away
And who the cap fit….let them wear it…
-Bob Marley

If there is anybody that is tired of hearing about Niger-Delta in the news every day, please put your hands up! Is there anybody in this country that is not yet sick and fed up with this topic? I mean, I don’t understand why we choose to suffer in this country. I swear I am going to puke the next time I hear “Niger-Delta”. I am so tired of that topic, but even more exhausting, is the topic of resource control. What exactly does that mean? Every time I hear it in the news I begin to think of some “kryptonite like” matter found in space, a really mysterious kind of material that has to be taken care of with great care lest we all turn into aliens. However, correct me if I am wrong, but it’s all about MONEY right? That’s what we are discussing in these meetings and summits? Who gets to spend the MONEY? That’s the mysterious “resource” we are all falling over ourselves to share and divide.

Now that we have made that clear, ie, resource control basically means “how to share the loot”, let’s try and define the next problem at hand. Now, is it only me, or have you all noticed that anytime we talk about “resource control”, everybody on TV is wearing a bowler hat? I am serious, next time you watch TV, count the number of bowler hats (remnants of our colonial past) you see. I have been thinking about this phenomenon, in fact, I have come to the conclusion that there must be something magical about that hat. Perhaps in order to talk about “resource control”, one has to wear it? Whatever the secret is, I must know, na by force. I am going to buy my own bowler hat and the next time there is talk of “resource control” on TV, maybe I will have a better understanding of what it is all about. Make una siddon dey look, meself, I go enter TV small time dey give my own yarns about resource control.

P.S: But if anybody there wan dash me e own hat, I no go shame to collect oh, austerity wan kill man pikin. Thanks in advance.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Overnight farmers

2008-08-03T11:03:00.000-07:00

Every day is a blessing in this country, even crossing the street is a mission on its own. By the way, before I launch into my anguish of the week, I‘d like to bind and cast all the demons of electricity in this country. I am sure you will all join in this casting session as many people have lost so much in this country due to “no light” (I just lost an eye….but that is a story for another day). This “no light” business is causing havoc in the lives of ordinary people, but not to worry, I am sure the Chinese will soon deliver enough cheap generators for every man to be able to afford one. God bless them.

Anyway, this article is not about me and my “missing eye” situation, this article is about Nigeria and its perpetual state of outrageous affairs. Recently, the government decided to help us out with the problem of food scarcity. They decided to distribute grains (please take note that these grains are for planting) to local farmers and help solve this alarming problem. Now, some big men in this country also collected tons of grains. Now, except I am totally stupid, I have never seen an agbada wearing man plant a seed. I am sure we all remember that ridiculous picture of our former president trying to plant a tree while his agbada was being held by more than three people. That is not a sight one forgets so easily. I still have nightmares from that picture.

Anyway, my point is, unless these big men, have become farmers overnight, then there is no need for anybody to be hoarding tons of grains in their backyards or garages. Now, as usual, we shall hear all sorts of explanations, all sorts of reasons. I would personally love to hear the reasons, for pure comedy purposes of course. One never tires of the illogical stories we hear in this country. However, the one and only question that should be asked is: “Are you a farmer?”

By the way, there is nothing wrong if these big men have decided to become farmers. In fact, the exercise would do them good. All that sitting around in board meetings eating club sandwich can’t be good for the heart. However, if you are not yet a farmer and you have no wishes to trade your pen for a hoe, then I suggest that these grains should be given to the people that know how to bend their backs in the sun.
Una do well.

P.S: Dem don begin dey kidnap people for our side again oh! Ehen, and I don remind una again say Olympics dey around the corner…if una like, make una disgrace us for opening ceremony with nonsense cloth…I go close eye, wait make una pass!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Superwoman

2008-07-27T02:58:00.000-07:00

The role of the woman in the society...if I had a penny for every time I heard that sentence, I would be a millionaire by now. I don’t know how many times as a young woman, I have had to listen to what is expected of me by my family, friends, teachers, neighbors…society. Everybody wants something from me and I cannot let them down. My parents expect me to be a good daughter, help at home, clean, cook, look after my siblings, my teachers expect me to be a good “girl student”, neat, courteous, respectful. My neighbors expect me to greet them every morning and cook a dish as well when they are sick. My friends expect me to always call, be nice, play the good girl, the one every parent loves to have as their daughter’s friend. The list goes on and on…do this, do that, don’t do this, don’t do that.

As a young girl, I was always overwhelmed with the feeling that no matter what I do, it would never be enough. No matter how hard I tried to make the perfect eba, it would always be too soft or too hard. I have never mastered that skill and to say the truth, at the age of nineteen, I decided that I would never accomplish the simple task of making the perfect eba. The perfect eba did not exist just as the perfect woman has never existed. I remember watching a certain neighbor as a young girl. This woman always seemed so well put together. Her hair always looked as if she just washed and set it, her clothes were always the latest fashion and her car was the sleekest. She threw the most amazing birthday parties for her kids and everybody in the neighborhood thought she was the “perfect wife”. I did too, until the day I realized that that beautiful crown of hair was….a wig. The perfect wife was practically bald underneath all that hair. I know what you are thinking, so what if she was bald? After all, majority of women these days will not be caught dead without their weave-ons and “attachments”. Well, it was remarkable to me because I never thought even for a moment, that she could not be perfect but that was not the main reason for that story. Rumour has it, that her husband on coming home early from work one day caught her asleep on the sofa, without her wig on. They say he screamed “blood of Jesus” and ran out of the house. I do not know if it was the shame of his wife not being the “perfect woman” but they got divorced soon after we never saw her again. I would have loved to convince my dear readers that “hair” could not be the reason for the divorce but unfortunately, considering the shallow world we all live in, it is my firm belief that her missing “crown of glory” was the cause of the demise of a once “perfect marriage”.

A good friend of mine phoned me the other day. She is a mother with two kids and works full time at a bank. She can often be seen at a salon during her breaks from work, her clothes are of the latest fashion and her kids always look so squeaky clean. She is the best cook in the world and her friends and husband will attest to that. My friend’s phone call was shocking to say the least. Apparently, her darling husband, who she had spent so much time and energy being super woman to, had been caught having an affair with another woman. His reason being of course, that my friend never had “time” for him. I guess my super friend was not that super after all.

So what am I trying to say, you may ask? Well, the simple truth is that we cannot do it all. Men will expect us to, but we just can’t. We are not super women.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Andrew don check out!

2008-07-20T09:33:00.000-07:00

The meaning of youth around the world and some parts of Nigeria: Young persons, collectively or a young person; especially, a young man or the quality or state of being young; youthfulness; juvenility or the part of life that succeeds to childhood; the period of existence preceding maturity or age; the whole early part of life, from childhood, sometimes, from infancy, to manhood.

The meaning of youth in Warri: Hooligan, vagabond, troublemaker, thug, ruffian, brute and any other negative term you wish to apply.

I am upset, no; let me make it very clear, I am extremely distressed that the youths in Delta state, especially Warri think it’s necessary to disturb our peace of minds and jobs with unnecessary violence. I have often said that my teenage years were plagued with the constant curfews, violence and military presence. I thought that was bad enough, I do not want to know what the children born in 2000 have to say about their childhood. Perhaps whilst children in other parts of Nigeria can boast of playing football until dark or playing hide and seek in their neighborhoods, the child of Warri will boast of military sand bags and the sound of local guns in the air. That is the memory our children will have. The sad part of it all is that one never knows what they are fighting about. At least, during my time, one could always guess that it was an ethnic clash of some sort…Urhobo and Itsekiri, Ijaw and Urhobo, Itsekiri and Ijaw…or all three of them. These days, the violence seems to have no foundation…what exactly are you fighting for or against? Some say it is “politics”. That is the reason ehn? Politics? Pray, tell me the cause, so I can join in. Others say it is “deve”. I am afraid to say I have no idea what that means. Apparently, anytime some sort of development has to take place in our area, some sort of fee has to be paid to our youth. I have no idea why anybody would want to be bribed so that development would take place in an area. Is that not what we want? To be developed? Should you not welcome, with both arms wide open, anybody or company that wishes to help in development? I have no clue. I am at a loss in these matters. However, anybody that can explain to me how this fee works and why it should be paid at all, please write to me at waffywaffarian@yahoo.com.

Meanwhile, okada users in the troubled areas are now forced to raise their hands up in the air when approaching the military. As usual, military presence is now at an all time high. I cannot wait to see the kind of games our kids will come up with, with this new found drama. So while the streets will be littered with burnt cars and bodies, the drama of the summit goes on and at this stage, I have to ask: “who cares?”

Therefore, fellow Nigerians, don’t be surprised and flabbergasted when you hear of people risking their lives crossing deserts and oceans to get to another man’s land. If this is what you have to see every day, would you stay? Abeg, safe journey Andrew, send a post card when you get there!

P.S: Effurun people! Why e be say, anytime violence dey, na una own must to pass everybody power? Haba! Sofrey, sofrey, my people, no be so oh. Na beg I dey take beg una. Meanwhile, I agree with Mrs Waziri, una don kolo finish for dis country. All of una, minus me.

Una do well.

An ugly man?

2008-07-07T03:19:00.000-07:00

Hello my people, how una dey? We thank God. With all the serious matters these days, I say make we talk about some kind light matter wey don worry me sotey I no fit sleep for night. As we all know, Nollywood fulfils a very important role in our society. It has long taken over those crucial spots that sports and culture used to fill. We all need to escape once in a while and Nollywood can be seen as a form of therapy. It is now needed for our sanity….if not, God knows how many people will be walking around grumbling and imitating sounds of generators.

Anyway, the point is, gone are the days when children used to play ten ten and suwe….or take for example, one of my past times as a child…tree climbing. Yes, I had a mission in life and my mission was to climb every single tree in the neighborhood. I would plot and plan and conquer every single tree. Of course, this was never fully accomplished, before I knew it, I was too old to continue climbing trees and it was time for music, posters and boys. I never got too much into videos…well at that time; I don’t know if there was much you were allowed to watch apart from Sound of Music.

However, these days my friends, all children have long been indoctrinated into the wonderful world of Nollywood. We have super stars, stars that are house hold names and walk on red carpets…only in Lagos of course but still, they are popular enough for our children to recognize. Which brings me to my bone of contention. After a marathon of Nollywood videos, I have come to the conclusion that there is a conspiracy in Nollywood. Yes, my good friends, a conspiracy. The men in Nollywood videos do not have faces. I swear! Have you ever seen the face of a Nollywood actor? Mba….what you see is MONEY my dear friends. That’s what makes the male in the movies. Forget that his wife is the beautiful Genevieve or the voluptuous Mercy Johnson….do you expect a handsome man by their sides? Did I hear you say yes? Abeg, make I laugh. Handsome man ko! Handsome man ni! Wrong answer. No, you expect a rich man by their sides. So what if his belly is huge? What if his belly is in the way of the ridiculous hip hop jeans he is wearing? What if his neck is bursting with rolls under his American face cap? You think we care? The most important question in the movie is “is he the rich one?” That’s all we care about. Who cares about looks? Physical attributes? When it comes to men? You think you can actually judge a book by its cover? Not so, dear people, we judge them by their wallet. The fatter your wallet, the more appealing the big belle looks. Which brings me to the next issue.

Now, I do not care much about physical looks, I mean we are all stuck with what we have, right? There is not much we can do about it. However, if one has chosen to be a public figure, I expect to see a man with at least a healthy looking body. Not Arnold Schwarzenegger in his body building days but at least a healthy looking man. Yet, what does Nollywood give me? I cannot even begin to explain the shapes and figures. Meanwhile, many of you are constantly talking about crossing over to Hollywood…make I laugh first…una don craise? Na which part una think say una go play? Even two years no go dey enough to get una into shape! Except na houseboy or gateman part you wan act. Anyway, I really hope the men in Nollywood think about their bodies once in a while. It is not nice to flaunt such huge bellies in videos, especially when your co-actresses are in good form.

Una do well.

The mysterious Niger-Delta

2008-07-05T14:16:00.000-07:00

I remember the first time I heard the name Niger-Delta, the first thing I asked was, ”wetin be that?”. To me, the Niger had always been that river that you saw when you crossed Onitsha Bridge and somehow the “nupe tribe” and kuli- kuli always came to mind. It took a long time for me to accept the fact that I was indeed a child of the Niger- Delta, the one they talk about on CNN, BBC, and the financial times. The one that has become almost exotic in the eyes of other Nigerians. Exotic to them because they have never crossed that bridge in Bayelsa state which advices you that the leprosy beggars that hound the bridge and your car have been “treated”, so please, do not fear. It is now exotic because militants attack oil rigs and kidnap at will. We have military presence in our land and our pidgin English has no equal.(By the way, that Zamfara state governor wey dey say make dem deploy military for dis side, dem tell una say we no get am already ehn? Military dey everywhere na! I suggest make una look for another thing to deploy because military full dis side remain! Haba! If you no believe me, oya, carry ya legs come dis side!). We have summits on a regular basis, cease-fires and other interesting tidbits to keep the rest of Nigeria and the world interested. We could be that black hole in Joseph Conrad’s heart of darkness, full of savages and illiterates spoiling for a fight. Yet, even with all the action that we produce, nothing has been done. I have asked this question before, and I will ask again, “for how long shall we wait”?

Niger Delta is an interesting place in the newspapers and television yet for the ordinary man and woman living here, it is home. It is the place where they wake up every day, and just like you, they make a living. They toil all day for a better day for their children. They go to school, they play and they sing and dance. Many of us enter the hot humid air, and all we want is to get home safely and see another day. So those that call for drastic actions, be aware that we do not live on oil rigs and eat salmon and croquettes. We do not play golf and neither do we play polo. The ordinary man is always the one to suffer when random and drastic actions are taken. The answer to the problem will never be one that can be achieved over night. As it has taken decades to create the rot that it is, so will it take decades to build and rebuild this place.

Meanwhile, I don ask all of una embassy people before, wetin una dey do ehn? Na so, dem just execute two Nigerians for Indonesia anyhow, haba! In fact, I would like to know what kind of legal help those men got before they were executed. Did they ever meet any Nigerian officials from the embassy? And if so, what help did they get? And all of una young young men dem, wey wan hustle for better life, e better make una begin farm because all those asian prisons dem, I swear! Na real ogbologbo!

P.S: To the Minister of culture, tourism and the rest, ehen, I hear say all the deaths of all these great musicians dey pain you well, well, ndo. Instead of crying, I suggest we do something worthwhile to promote arts and culture in the name of these great men. I am sure that is something they would have wanted. If you no get any idea, make you no shy, just contact me at waffywaffarian@yahoo.com I get idea boku remain!

Una do well.

The nameless

2008-06-27T05:39:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I was sitting at the local airport in Ikeja when this was announced over their public system. “Would Driver company name please report to the front desk”. Driver “company name” apparently had no surname; he now bore the name of the company he worked for. I found it all very amusing that even the woman announcing this, had actually agreed to address another human being like that. However, I was the only one laughing. Everybody else seemed to think that it was very normal for a driver‘s surname to be the name of a company. I asked the gentleman sitting next to me, if he did not find it amusing that a man’s name was “driver” and his surname a company name. I mean, think about all the drivers that now bear “Julius Berger ” as their surname or “MTN”...the worst surname would have to be “NEPA”! Anyway,(before I digress into a rant about the hopeless state of electricity in this country) as I tried to explain why I found the whole thing amusing, the lady sitting next to me jumped right in the conversation and asked “why should I know his surname?”. In fact, she was very upset that I would even dare to suggest such a thing! Preposterous! She said her driver had been driving her for more than two years now and she had no idea what his surname is. She defended her reason by adding that the driver did not know hers either…..which I very much doubt. If there is anything drivers are very familiar with, it is the names of their passengers. Imagine how many times you have sent them to deliver useless messages to friends and relatives. Imagine how many times you have sent them to the market, the pharmacy, tailor and other little errands that have nothing to do with his main job, which is actually driving. So, please believe that your driver knows your name very well and has probably cursed you a couple of times too! For a man in whose hands you put your life every day, it is preposterous that you do not know his name, family name and where he lives.

Anyway, the conversation with these two people got me thinking about how many people I see every day, talk to them every day, yet I do not know their names. The first person I would have to apologize for never asking her name would have to be “acara woman”. For years as a child, I bought acara from this woman. I played with her baby every morning as she fried acara, we had conversations about the weather, my family, her family, my health, her health and I never knew her name. Next would have to be “sweet woman”, which is very depressing to me because this woman knows the names of all my siblings, asks about every single one of them every time she sees me and even a grown woman like me still gets free sweets when I pass by. The third apology would have to be the “shoe boy”. “Shoe boy” is a shoemaker and stops by every Saturday to collect all those worn out soles of mine. I never have conversations with “shoe boy” but his presence in my life is very important. The fourth apology I will just have to give “newspaper boy”, who tells me the gist of all the newspapers, reads my column and sometimes suggest topics I should write about.

Now that I have started this countdown, I realize they are too many people that have been important in my life in such small ways that I never knew their name. A grown woman shouting “swimming pool uncle” across the street to a man who made me believe that I could be an Olympic champion, the best swimmer, I could do anything if I set my mind to it, is very embarrassing indeed. (By the way, God go punish all of una former Bendel state sports people wey go destroy all those better better swimming scholarship program those days, who know? I for be champion self, maybe na me for represent una for Beijing now? Shebi una see una selves?).

Well, what is done in this case, can be undone. I will have to introduce myself properly and they would have to do the same. They are human beings as we all are, no less important in life, yet every day we humiliate them by calling them the names of jobs which funny enough, we could never do without. We call them “house girl”, “driver”, “gardener”, “cook” like these names are their identities. They are not; these are just the jobs they perform (which many have no choice to but to do, by the way). They are fathers, mothers, daughters, cousins, somebody’s best friend, a Christian, a Muslim….. They are much more than we would ever know…… because we never ask.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

On the way to.....

2008-06-27T05:36:00.000-07:00

In every nook and cranny, there is a church or mosque ready to save our souls and prepare us for our final destination, heaven. We go to these churches/mosques and worship with men and women who we assume are people of God. We donate our hard earned money, pay tithes and only God knows the amount of time and energy the faithful dedicate to their churches, pastors, mosques and imams. It is therefore a shame when these men and women in whom so much is trusted, betray their members. Recently, I read the most disgusting story about a pastor who was arrested. The man was in possession of a couple of human heads which he was preparing for members of his church. According to him, he is not only a pastor but a native doctor as well. Now, my question to my fellow countrymen is thus: For how long are we all going to fool ourselves?

It is no secret that a lot of people consult native doctors, herbalists, spiritualists, etc in this country. In fact, it is the norm of the day. There is always someone who knows someone. Even in the confines of the church, there is always someone coming from somewhere and going somewhere. We all know this; it is no secret in our society. That is why it is very illogical for those who believe in whatever they believe in to continue fooling themselves in churches or mosques. There is no rule stating that we all must be Christians or Muslims, in fact, such a rule can never exist in a country where people are still dying “under mysterious” circumstances. Until we can admit to ourselves that a good number of the population are NOT Christians or Muslims, we will continue to discover human heads and different organs in peoples’ houses…including the houses of pastors. It is only then that we will be able to curb these insane acts. I would also like every single human being in a spiritual position to be investigated. Yes, that’s right. All pastors, priests, imams…in fact, if you are in any sort of position in any religious activity, (Sunday school self dey among) you should be investigated. Let us sort the wheat from the chaff…or however that saying goes.
However, I realize that such a task will be too much for our already worn out government. That is why I appeal to all good citizens of this country to embark on a thorough investigation of their spiritual leaders. It is your right to know who your leader is and where he/she is leading you to.
Make e no be say dem dey carry una go hell and una no know oh!

P.S: Just to remind una say Olympics dey around the corner because I know small time na, una go begin complain say no money to transport our people, this, that, one thing do one thing. Me, I no wan hear any long tory oh. I don buy my green white green flag, make shirt self, so make una make sure all our better sports men and women dey ready oh! I don remind una, because this sports ministry una fit disgrace human being sometimes.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Growing old with grace

2008-06-08T04:25:00.000-07:00

My people, how una dey? As far as una still dey alive, we thank God. I have been feeling so uninspired lately. Everytime I read something about Africa, it is always so depressing. These days, I avoid anything that has to do with Zimbabwe. Is it me, or has that old man gone nuts? I find it amusing that such an old man can have a hold over a whole country… he must be very strong…I wonder what he is eating because the eba I eat in this country definitely does not give me that kind of strength. One would think that an old man like that should be on a farm somewhere, sleeping under a shade with goats nearby… or chickens. Imagine how nice it would be for him, to enjoy his final years with his family. He could even take up fishing or perhaps a more sophisticated sport like golf? He could play golf all day…or maybe he would rather travel? Yes, that would be so nice, he could see all the wonders of the world, wine and dine and maybe even go on a spiritual journey? But no, mba. Instead, he is there busy complicating life for himself and others. Why can’t we as human beings just make life easier for ourselves? Look at the mess he has got himself and his country in, now. Very depressing because there are so many things he could have been doing instead of causing mayhem and distress. How sad!

It is not every day you see power make a fool of a human being. Most times, power makes them strong, mighty, wealthy or even dangerous…so this is a rare occasion indeed, we have the combination of all that with the inclusion of the person being made a fool as well. It is really depressing and leaves a very bitter taste in my mouth. However, let this be a warning to all power hungry people. Sooner or later, your greed will not only destroy you but those around you as well. So whilst you are bribing and threatening and God knows what else you people do behind the scenes, please remember that there is nothing more pathetic than a human being that has lost all sense of pride and dignity.

I therefore appeal to all men and women in seats of power in this country to be wise enough so as to be able to determine when their time has come for retirement. If you have any doubts as to when your time is near, I would say start looking for a retirement home once you reach the age of fifty. In fact, considering the life expectancy age in this country, (46 years for men and 47 for women, and no be me talk am oh, na UN, so make una go fight them if una no gree) I would suggest that one should start planning as soon as possible.

Ehen, I don tell una. Because me I no wan hear say una begin kolo because of old age oh! Una do well.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Please, let our culture be!

2008-06-01T04:09:00.000-07:00

Let the music play!

There was a time in Nigeria when I thought “life can’t be better than this”…..I call it the “Clarus and Giringory years”, the years when N.T. A was the only station on T.V. I remember watching so many interviews with Nigerian artists. Not only did we get to see our favorite artists talk about themselves and their music, but sometimes, they gave live concerts too!

There is so much in the music of those years that ties me to people, places…those were great times for me and a huge part of my childhood. I have never been worried about losing any of that because I have always believed that the music will always be there, it will live forever in the archives of N.T.A. How wrong I was!

Recently, I asked a couple of my friends where one could get film footages of our great musicians, possibly interviews and appearances on television. To my surprise and disgust, I was told that N.T.A had “wiped” most of the tapes….whatever that means. In lay man’s terms, we simply do not have recordings of our own artists that have been part of so much in this country. If you want to find film footages of our best musicians, please turn to BBC, even the French would have more to offer you than N.T. A. This is perhaps not surprising in this country, who cares right? Why should we care about our own heritage and culture? Why should we preserve history for our children? After all, we’ll all be long gone to accept any accountability. It is a shame and to say the truth, pure laziness. If we continue at the pace we are going, so much beauty will be lost to our children.

What kind of nation do we want to be? Nigeria is failing new generations of its children by continuing to destroy all traces of cultural productions in the country. However, let me not scare you all, I am sure we will always have “Nollywood”, those low budget movies that continue to subject Nigerians with archaic views on religion and marriage. Nollywood story for Marriage: Man and woman fall in love, get married and enjoy peace until the beautiful and young seductress (probably a friend of the wife) lures the good husband from his home. Husband sends wife packing, while younger woman enters house. Now, the only choice wife has, is to turn to the church for serious fasting and prayers. Somehow, husband comes to his senses (probably because the juju has now been cast into the deepest hole or whatever) and comes back crying to wife. Wife accepts husband back, and returns to her rightful place as madam of the comfortable home she was living in. We thank God.

Now that is what our children are watching. That is the kind of “culture” we are giving them and have no fear of it ever being “wiped” out because we have enough pirated copies to last us a life time.

I hope there are enough people in this country that understand the need for documenting our cultural heritage. It is a challenge to us, and one that we must rise up to.

We will never forget those that have left so much beauty behind them.

Rest in peace,

Sonny Okosuns
Steve Rhodes

Your music lives on.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Making sense of no sense

2008-05-25T15:36:00.000-07:00

This week so many things have happened in our world, South-Africans who for years, I believed to be the most tolerant people on earth…have lost it. The Chinese are still trying to find survivors in the devastating earth quake and Yar’Adua gave an interview in the financial times London (chei! the thing pain me oh, me wey get plenty questions boku to ask, na those oyibo people na im you go grant interview? Haba!) which I read and laughed hard of course. Any other reaction from the cynic in me would have been false but first, let me talk about the South-Africans.

If there is any child that grew up following world events without the miracle of having cable TV, I guess I was one of them. For all their faults, Delta TV could at least arouse your curiosity for world events by flinging in one or two details in their often dry international news. The story of Nelson Mandela I followed closely after watching a documentary on television. After that, came a fascination with the man and his people. I listened to anything about South Africa, sang along with Majek Fashek’s “Free Mandela”, cried watching the film “Cry freedom” and danced like a possessed child to the musical “Sarafina”. I did all that with the firm belief that a country that produced a man as great as Nelson Mandela must be the most tolerant in the whole world.

The events of the past weeks have proved that there is no country that is safe from the wrath of the poor man. The poor people are angry, angry at their government and perhaps the world at large, for abandoning them in a continuous and hopeless state of poverty and misery. A country where the spread of A.I.D.S continue to devastate the population, a country that is synonymous with crime….yet, we are all surprised. We see the images of burning houses and violence and cringe...”not the home of Mandela!”…we are horrified. Oh, lest I forget, was it not the same look of surprise we had on our faces when the Kenyan situation came up? And not too many years ago, we had the same look on our faces about Zimbabwe, right? Right!
Let us not fool ourselves anymore in this world, poverty is real and it will drive people to commit the most inhumane acts. These acts, as bizarre as they might seem, did not happen overnight just as the refugees from Zimbabwe did not appear over night in the slums. Yes, let us all point our fingers to the source of the beginning of the problem…the problem of Zimbabwe…is anybody taking notes? Can anybody help the people of Zimbabwe? First driven from their homeland, they are now being burned and persecuted, yet; this is not a problem of the government of South Africa. It is the problem of Africa and what are we doing? Nothing, as usual.

That is why the interview given by our dear president was amusing. According to our dear president, he has been “planning”. Is it that we do not understand that time is running out? Even with the kidnappings of people in the Niger Delta, the violence and killings and now….a food crisis! A bag of rice has tripled this week…and we still have time? We are still folding our hands and waiting for what to happen? We think the frustrations of the South Africans are different? Why then, are people being kidnapped in this country? What have the innocent done to their captives? So many questions and unfortunately not enough time to answer them all. One thing is for sure though; we are running out of time. Let something be done or else, the wrath of the poor man will continue and who knows who the victims will be next time? Today, it’s the foreigner, tomorrow it might be you or me.

P.S: I bow for all these our governors sha, so if na to spend money for burial, dat one una sabi, but to fix road, na another thing. Na wah oh!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

A day at the bank

2008-05-18T04:52:00.000-07:00

As a child, I had the opportunity of going to the bank with my father or mother on various occasions to either deposit a check, or cash one or do whatever they used to do those days. Those were the days before ATM machines appeared in Nigeria. The days when everybody knew your name and everybody chit chatted while standing on the queue. Everybody in the bank was “aunty” or “uncle”, they all appeared to be older and most of them always wore glasses. That is what I can remember.

As an adult, I am not so fond of official buildings. In fact, I try to avoid doing anything that cannot be done over the internet. I avoid anything that has to do with papers, signatures and false smiles….all that hand shaking and nodding of heads…nope, banks are nothing more than a pesky necessity in my life. Anyway, so I was at a certain Bank on a hot afternoon in Lagos a couple of weeks ago. My reason for being in that bank was purely out of curiosity and not necessity. I wanted to see how much the Nigerian bank had evolved…okay, I’ll admit it, I wanted to really understand what that door was all about….you know, the two glasslike oval shaped thingy you step in before you go into the bank? Yes, I wanted to know what its function was. I am sorry, I did not find out anything substantial. I am told it is for security purposes …so let us leave it like that.

Anyway, so the first thing you notice in any bank would be the beautiful young boys and girls working there. I am telling you, I have never seen anything like this; they are all dressed up in all sorts of suits…so I am guessing having a suit is compulsory for working in a Nigerian Bank. Trouser suit, skirt suit, three quarters suit, etc. Please forgive me if I do not get the right names for the “suit fashion”. Anyway, so I am in the bank and there is a certain sound that keeps reoccurring in my ear….I almost went mad trying to figure out why that sound kept hitting my delicate ears from all angles….well….I don’t know how you all do it, but the sound of high heels and “cork shoes” on the floors was really quite disturbing. Everywhere you turned, there was that sound. Sometimes it came from men as well. I swear. You know mens’ shoes now have heels on them? I am not joking, the next time you see a male banker, check out his shoes, there is a certain kind of flat heel they all wear. So, I am standing at a corner, patiently waiting for my friend who has to conduct business with these suit clad beautiful human beings. There is a line of people waiting patiently to do their business and of course the other set of “who know who” people who are not getting on the line. Some stroll with great confidence to their “contacts” who beam at them under an array of “yes sir”, “how are you madam” “good to see you again”, etc . Then, the second thing I notice are the different people who seem to just be strolling back and forth the floors with no particular destination. I saw a young lady go back and forth five times without doing anything in particular.

Finally, the third and final observation would have to be the presence of the security men. I am not sure what kind of training these men have gone through, but I had no clue about what they were supposed to be doing. Some just hung about throwing jokes to one another, while one or two stood by the door explaining the “oh so delicate” machinery of the oval shaped doors. I have to admit that their uniforms were quite impressive, not the usual scruffy look we have come to associate Nigerian security men with…so that’s a “plus” I guess.

All in all, the biggest improvement would be the designer suits worn by the beautiful young people. They were all so radiant!

P.S: abeg, una fit try hook me up with una tailor? Thanks in advance.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Where do we go from here?

2008-05-16T06:36:00.000-07:00

One thing wey we get for this country na mouth! Chei, we sabi promise all sorts, we go promise the whole heaven self, na so our mouth sabi run anyhow like water. One year ago, our dearest minister of transportation seemed to hear the cries of the common man and promised to fix that terrible Lagos-Benin road. Na so, one year don pass, abeg, ask me wetin dem don do? NOTHING. The road still dey as e dey na, e don worse self. Abeg, make una no dey promise us things if una know say una no fit do am, e better to dey trek go Lagos than to enter car. I swear, na trek I go dey trek from now on. Na the same time I go take land self.

Meanwhile, because of the bad roads, the airline business is booming. Sometimes, I wonder if there isn’t a conspiracy in this country to keep the roads in the state they are, so we can all pay the exorbitant prices demanded by the airlines. Recently, I traveled with arik airlines from Lagos to Warri and I was amazed and flabbergasted at the degree of disregard they had for their customers. First of all, they were late. Extremely late. Now, one would expect that they at least provide some information on what is happening, why we are late, when the flight is expected, an apology, you know, the normal. Yet, we waited for more than five hours without any information whatsoever about our delayed flight. For an airline, and for the price being paid by customers, the very least they can do is be professional. That is all I am asking from them. It is not so hard, just make sure your customers are treated with respect at all times.

It is a shame that the Nigerian customer is yet unaware of their right to demand and expect their money’s worth. Why are we always content with barely the minimum? Has it been drummed into our heads as children never to expect anything? I find it very sad that more than fifty people are willing to sit in an airport terminal just waiting as if their own time is not valuable to them. Five hours is a lot of time and to me, a lot of money. If you have ever worked at a job where you are paid hourly, I am sure you would understand how valuable an hour is. Imagine the manpower of more than fifty people being wasted like that! A pity. I remember asking a German friend of mine once why the Germans are so pedant when it comes to quality and he gave me a very simple answer, “Because the German customer will not buy anything less”. It is that simple. Until the Nigerian customer stops this bad habit of “we can manage” and starts focusing instead on quality of service, we will continue to be treated like scum, even though it is our money that keeps the business booming.

Talking about scum, how, in the name of the Lord, do all these airlines get away with canceling flights at will? I would like the Minister of aviation to look into this please. Isn’t there some sort of protocol to be followed? After all, this is not molue we are entering, or is it? Please, let us know. If na molue, ehen, at least I no go expect any service self! Also, can anyone come up with a better idea for the handling of luggage? How does the rest of the world do it? Someone should please try and look into this. At this day and age, I find it ridiculous that luggage should be handled like we are at the market place. To say the truth, I think it is a miracle every time my bag makes it!
Meanwhile, big shame to all of una Lagos spots wey go dey quadruple price of everything! Fa fa fa, fowl! Even water self, na four times the normal price. Wetin person dey pay all that for? To dey mingle with ajebutters? Hiss!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Public Disturbance!

2008-05-16T06:34:00.000-07:00

My people! If I tell una say I never sleep for the past one week, una no go believe me! Abeg, make una ask me why now, ehen, thank you. I go tell una. My people, na all these church people dem no dey allow person close eye for night. Na so oh, as evening just nak, dem go begin. Left oh, right oh, in front oh, behind oh, from all corners, dem go begin dey shout, dey disturb the whole neighborhood anyhow. Shuo! Na only una dey Warri? Special notice to all of una wey dey P.T.I road, Effurun. I swear, una go soon see my medical bill for una mail box. Hiss!

Now, it is not a problem if people decide to worship and sing praises to the Lord. It is a good thing, a very good thing. However, if you have decided to spend your night at church singing at the top of your voice, that is your prerogative, not mine nor the hundreds of people around in the neighborhood that have decided to spend their own nights on their beds sleeping. Honestly! Do we not have a law against public disturbance? I mean, a lot of people are hardworking people that have spent their hours working all day and all they need is a good night’s rest. For example, a doctor that has spent his whole day on his feet would need his sleep at night in order to perform a life saving operation the next day. Tomorrow na, if the poor man leave scissors for person belle una go begin dey make noise, but una don forget say una no allow am rest for night oh! How im wan take do im job properly ehn? Or another example, a long distance lorry driver falls asleep on the road, causing a major accident, wetin una go talk? Una go begin blame all the blood sucking demons for road, meanwhile, una don forget say na una no allow the man close eye for night!

Furthermore, it is not the fact that these churches have chosen to “broadcast” their prayers and praise singing through megaphones and horn speakers, that is the matter. It is the logic of the whole thing that is particularly disturbing. Now, I have always assumed that perhaps there was a crowd outside the churches that needed to follow the worship or whatever else was going on inside the church. Imagine my amazement to discover that there was nobody outside these churches at all! In some of them, there were only a handful of people inside the church and yet they had decided to broadcast their worship outside! For who? None of the church members were there, and there was no gathering outside for them to even assume that anybody else was interested in their worship proceedings. I am sure if anybody wanted to take part, they would have been there. Now, please, somebody, explain to me, where is the logic? How would people feel if I decide to blast reggae through megaphones through out the night, every night? After all, Rastafari is a religion too. I appeal to all the churches in Warri, to please remove those terrible megaphones and horn speakers hanging from the corners of their churches and let us sleep. Na God we dey take beg una.

Meanwhile, the thing wey dem dey blast for us self no get head or tail! Pastor go dey do im own incantations for there, some people go dey sing their own dey go, plus the music wey dem go dey play na another thing entirely! Haba! The thing reach to destroy ear drum, and then imagine the noise of all those generators on top. Na die be dat na!

P S: Una take style see that AMAA awards? Chei! Laugh wan kill me! Una see the stage? The thing be like say dey import am from one cheap Karaoke bar from Thailand! And na so everything just jaga jaga anyhow. Abeg, the people wey organize am, una no try at all oh! Chei! Shame catch me, I hope say all our African neighbours no watch that thing oh!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Naija weddings!

2008-05-16T06:32:00.000-07:00

My people, if I tell una say I don tire for all dis wedding business, una go think say I dey lie. I say, I don tire! Shuo, na only for Nigeria people dey do wedding? Haba! All these colours and themes wey person never hear before…abi na me be mumu? I say the kain colors wey Naija women go dey call, don dey trouble me. If you say blue abi na yellow, that one I know, but wey the thing reach all those kain “aqua”, “periwinkle” , “oatmeal” and co, I swear, I go begin get headache.

Anyway, for those of you that do not know, weddings have now become personal auditions for professional acting, I swear. Honestly the performances at these "shows" have now become Oscar worthy oh! In fact, forget about the "occasional" shedding of a tear or two, these days, one must weep when recalling the romantic moment when the soul mate (who by the way, was sent by God and guided by the holy spirit to that particular place at that particular time, since just that morning, the so called mate had just sent a powerful prayer to God which went like this : Oh God, you know my turn has come, I am asking you in Jesus name, to send him my way etc, etc) appeared by her side. Every single bride or groom knew "instantly" that they had met "the one". Na where dat one take happen? For “go-slow” abi na for Molue na im una begin sing Indian song?

Anyway...and when did Nigerian men become so creative about proposing? All sorts of stories! forget about good-old fashioned proposals, nowadays, one has to come up with elaborate stories on how the "d-day" went down. In fact, I am waiting for the Nigerian man that will drop down with parachute in the middle of the "soul-mate's" dinner where family and friends are surrounded for some unknown reason, take out the ring which all this while has been hanging by his teeth on a long yellow ribbon (the bride's color), recite a poem which has the "hidden proposal" somewhere within the lines and all this time "their" favorite music by Michael Bolton mysteriously starts playing in the background....

The way the whole thing is orchestrated, from beginning to end, with a wedding planner as the “maestro”, no be small thing. Forget about those days, when your mother and her friends (plus some village women) put firewood in the back yard and cooked and fried goat meat, forget about how you went to mama Chinwe, the neighborhood tailor, with a magazine under your armpit for serious descriptions, forget about scouring the markets under the heat for “lace” and other “satin like” materials for the flower girls and bridesmaids. I used to be a serious flower girl in the eighties, in fact, one could say, I was sort of a professional. I remember all sorts of weddings, the most memorable of course, were the ones done in village churches. I don’t know what it is about those churches, so cool inside, with the “choir” (anybody that can carry a tune) singing hymns from worn out hymn books, the bride and groom surrounded by mostly family and close friends. I found an old picture once, of myself as a flower girl. I had a toothy smile on my face, with a bunch of plastic flowers. I still remember that day because the groom kept trying to wipe his bride’s sweaty face with his handkerchief.
In my child’s mind, I was already convinced that that must be why she was marrying him. For the rest of their lives, he would wipe the sweat off her forehead. It’s been more than 25 years since that picture was taken, in a little village in Delta state without pomp and pageantry…..and all the rest hullabaloo today’s weddings are made of. They are still married, with adult children and they still have the pictures of that day, stored carefully away in an album.

So, una wey wan begin all those aisle waka, I advice una to seriously think of village church oh, cos e be like say the kain prayers wey those pastors dem dey use na serious “binding”, no small Sikiratu go fit destroy that kain prayer.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Na my papa money!

2008-05-16T06:29:00.000-07:00

Na so I just dey mind my business wey my friend come call me, dey complain say all im friends dey travel go abroad dey go continue education, meanwhile, as im papa no fit afford am, na there im go dey. Me, I pity am sha, no be im fault, how im papa suppose find dat kind money? Only the visa runs self go empty the family savings talk less of ticket money! Na so the papa almost kill am self wey im mention all the things wey im suppose do. So na Abraka im go siddon, and even self, after im finish with dat im abraka degree, na who go employ am wey senator pikin go land with UCLA degree? Ehen, who you think say dem go choose? This degree matter no be small thing oh.

Nigeria is a bed rock of class divisions, economically, educationally and…all the rest. The biggest problem faced by our society today, is the inclusion of the poor in a good education system. It is easy for a child to go to school, but if the school does not meet up with the standards required, then the education is wasted. Why send your child to school only to be told that he/she will never be able to pass the common entrance exams to secondary schools? Why send your child to a secondary school when you know that the possibility of the child getting a “p” in Jamb English is impossible? What is the child going to do with an education that he cannot use in the future? If this child, now manages, beyond all expectations, to get a higher education, who is going to employ him when his competition is a person with British secondary school and University results? What chance does a child from Ovwian grammer school and Delta State University have? (In fact, as they just see that name, plus “Abraka” for the paper, na laugh be dat)

The system we have today is ensuring that the children of the wealthy will probably be your rulers and leaders tomorrow. Yes. You know that annoying guy that plays music at all hours, drinks champagne and cruises around your neighborhood with no apparent destination? Yep. He would probably be one of your leaders. For the simple fact that he is better qualified on papers, forget about character, all we care about is your “degree”….and you know that hard working boy, so neat, so polite, looks like he could be a great leader….you know him? Unfortunately, he will probably be the driver, cleaner, washer man or cook of the rich man. Your new leader.
Of course, the wealthy will always have the means for education, and why shouldn’t they? After all, they can afford it. Yes, they should have education, but so should the poor man too. Should the rich man have a better education than the poor man? The answer is NO. We need to make a conscious effort in Nigeria to ensure that all children, no matter their economic back ground or gender, are able to get quality education. Now, if the rich man wants all the other “jaras” a school can offer, then by all means, let him have it, but let there be a general standard for all schools so the poor man can compete with the only natural resource that has not yet been taken from him, his brains.

Meanwhile, no be everybody wey go school for obodo oyibo na im know book oh! Some of dem no even know wetin carry dem go dat side self. Apart from all those their big big English, dem fit still be serious agbekpo.

P.S: Una don find dat plane? Shebi na the same question I ask una last week? Fear dey catch me for dis our country oh, so na so plane fit lost for air? Tufiakwa!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Memo to whoever is the minister of foreign affairs in this country: Do your job!

2008-05-16T06:25:00.000-07:00

NOTE: ANOTHER VERSION OF THIS PIECE WAS PUBLISHED

Dear Sir
It has come to my notice that you are seriously needed by your fellow countrymen. Nigerians all over the world continue to be treated as second class citizens by organizations and companies abroad. Recently, 136 Nigerian passengers were ordered off a British airways flight bound for Lagos because they protested against the way deportees were being treated on the flight. Is it now a crime in the world to show empathy for a fellow human being? Is it now a crime to request that people should be treated with dignity and respect?

It seems carrying a Nigerian passport has an invisible logo underneath it that says “treat me as you please, nobody cares!” There is no country in the world that would accept such treatment of their citizens under any circumstances. It is wrong and I believe it is your job to write a letter of protest to the government concerned or whatever protocol it is that you are supposed to follow. You must know better than I do, it is your job. I am tired of Nigerians being treated like dirt because we do not dare to stand up for our rights.

You are being paid. Do your job.

Regards
Waffy Waffarian

Memo to the commissioner of health, Anambra state: We are now in 2008!

Dear Sir,
I recently heard that for some reason, you have not been informed about the year we are currently living in. It seems you have been misinformed and misled by the people around you. It is not your fault; I know for sure that you must have been living in another planet all these years. That must be the only reason why you are unaware of the disease called A.I.DS. This disease is a threat to the human race and a cure is yet to be found. Did I hear you gasp? Yes Sir, unfortunately, we humans have been living with that monster for decades now. I know you have no idea about it, if you did; you certainly would not make the kind of outrageous statements that you made recently in your state. There was some talk about banning condoms and contraceptives….is this true?

A.I.DS.is a sexually transmitted disease…… terrible isn’t yet? I am sure you are beginning to realize the kind of dilemma this is. As I said earlier, you must have been misinformed by the incompetent people around you. I guess they did not give you all these facts? Well, not to worry, I am sure you can still do something about it. However, reading your opinions on condoms and contraceptives, it has occurred to me that you are in the wrong line of business. I believe you should be a pastor or evangelist, not a health commissioner. Please do not be afraid to follow your calling in life, there is nothing to be ashamed of. I wish you God’s speed.
Oh, I forgot, the real reason for this letter was to inform you that we are in 2008. We no longer allow decisions made by ignorant people in this country, just in case you never got the memo.

Best Regards,
Waffy Waffarian

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

African teacher

2008-04-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

I never be late, I always early
I never absent I always present
That's why I and I nah sit down inna no back bench
Natty like to be bright, bright, bright
So bright, bright, bright, bright
So bright
-Burning Spear.

I was one of those “over-sabi” children in primary school. I liked to sit at the front, I loved to learn and like a sponge, I would soak every single thing my teachers said. The need to always know, that curiosity, was cultivated in primary school. Every day, we had so many new things to learn. The teachers knew every single one of us by name and I remember many occasions when my young mind would be worried at the presence of a teacher in my home. They would sit and discuss about my grades, areas of improvement and my potential. I loved all my teachers. The science teacher made our eyes big with her different experiments (now that I look back, I cannot ever imagine that I was once amazed by the colors “a starchy material” produced). Our Art teacher taught us to make paper marches, collages, and we spent so many happy hours playing with clay. The mathematics teacher taught us how to read the time by asking us to make clocks, mine was the best of course! Made out of white card board paper, I still remember it, so vividly too. The French teacher taught us the national anthem in French and made us write our very own French play. My part was a buyer who on seeing all her wares screams “beaucoup de chose!” The Urhobo teacher also taught us the national anthem and pledge in Urhobo but he got a bit carried away by asking the girls to kneel while greeting him, in the traditional Urhobo way. The library master, who was also the P.E teacher, made us “skip” and run, jump, and we could play “ten-ten” too. I think he was a bit partial to football though, because all he ever wanted to do was have a football match, every single day. The most fun class was home-economics. Oh what fun we had! We made batik, tie and dye, we did embroidery, sew aprons and hand bags, entered competitions, made chin-chin, puff-puff and cakes. My all time favorite teacher though, was my English teacher. We read so much and spent so many hours coming up with good points for our different “debate” subjects. She encouraged me to read and never laughed at my writings. Instead, she gravely corrected mistakes and suggested ways for improvement. She was my favorite teacher because she allowed me to be me or is it because of all those sweets?

You all think I went to some fancy school right? Maybe one of those international schools or Private schools in Lagos? Wrong. I attended a primary school in Warri, Delta state. How can that be, you may ask? Well, I’ll tell you. I was one of those fortunate children that attended school during the time when teachers were still being paid their salaries. They could take care of the rent and their families so they did their jobs. They came to school and gave us their hearts and souls because they were not hungry. Their children were not hungry, so they taught us everything they knew. These days, I often hear people lamenting about the state of our schools. They are all right, it is dreadful and a shame. However, there is no human being that can give 100% on any job when their future is not secure. Many teachers in Nigeria now have to resort to farming or petty trading to ensure the survival of their families. Those are the ones that still try to live with the little dignity they have left. Many others, no longer care. Their dignity has been thrown out when hunger came calling and have now joined the band wagon of bribery and corruption which is not surprising considering the fact that many of them have not been paid for months and frankly speaking, that they still turn up for work is a miracle in itself.

We have the brains in Nigeria. We have so many good teachers that can ensure that our children get the best in life, but it is not going to happen. You know why? I will tell you the truth: A hungry man is an angry man and until teachers start being paid properly in this country, the education system is going to remain in the dumps. A lot of great minds are going to be lost to “business” and that captivating new world of “bankers”. The losers are the children.

The impact of a teacher in a child’s life cannot be underestimated. They do as they see. When you have corrupt and hungry teachers, ready to sell their selves for money, I assure you, you are raising corrupt and hungry children, ready to do sell their selves too, for money.

Do not let us lose great minds in this country….PAY THE TEACHERS!

P.S: Una don find dat una plane wey una dey look for? 2 weeks never pass? Na wah oh! Meanwhile dat health committee wey go school for Ghana, shebi na study una say una use that 10 million do? Oya, make una publish the report with all of una findings na, dis one wey una know book pass anything!

Time to let go

2008-03-30T10:48:00.000-07:00

My people, I have been thinking. Do you remember a time when we had a subject called “current affairs” in primary school? I think it was a part of social studies. Anyway, I was just thinking of all those big names we had to memorize as past leaders of our dearly beloved country. If I am not mistaken, Obasanjo was one of them. It may pain you all to know that I was a child then when I first heard that name. Yes, that’s how time flies! I am a fully grown adult now and still, I have to hear or read about this name in 2008. I am sick of that name and all the other names that won’t just fade away. Haba! E never reach una? The whole thing is like eating akamu everyday or soaking garri everyday….which some people actually do in this country.

There comes a time in every parent’s life when they have to leave the child to walk. The crawling child must eventually learn to walk, without the support of tables, chairs or worrying mothers. So it seems the time has come for our grand parents and parents to let Nigeria go. Nigeria is no longer yours; you have done what you can. Good or bad, the country is how you have “raised it” to be. However, this country does not belong to you anymore. You have done what you can; you have seen the progress with your own eyes. Why are you still hanging on? For what are you still hanging on? Another generation awaits its turn, yet you block our ways with tricks and huddles. You frustrate us at every turn. What would you like to see? To see us give up? Like the crawling child whom you have refused to let walk, you would like Nigeria to crawl on. Perhaps become handicapped in the process? Yet, you know it is time for a change, you feel it in the air; you know that you cannot hold on forever.

Your time has come and gone, all knowledge you have, you have given. There is no more for you to do. It is time to let go.

P.S: This country ehn! I don talk am say na only if you get strong head you fit survive… or you fit become psykia case. Choose one. Anyway, as una see, that labour man don show everybody say you must to stubborn pass mule for dis country. You must to struggle, argue, vex self, but you must never give up. So, make I join everybody else congratulate our Edo brother wey carry im case go court come test dis our “rule of law” yarns. No be God we thank? and after all dis wahala, I wan see serious things dey happen oh! Especially dat una road for dat side, chei! Last time na so I fall enter dat una red poto poto, my fine white dress just spoil finish! Anyway, after una build the road finish, if money remain, make una compensate dat my dress. Thanks in advance.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

For this season

2008-03-24T03:59:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, many Easters ago, I was an innocent child without any knowledge of the grave importance religion held in the society. To me, the best part of every Sunday, was the mornings on the way to church. It was then, that I got to sit in the front sit of my father’s battered (but oh! so loved) Peugeot 504 and made very important decisions like which newspaper we should read for the day. There were always so many papers to choose from and sometimes we got them all, because we could never decide. We also bought petrol, “lucky bread” and if I had been really good, I got to buy “butter mints” and “tomtom” for my brothers and sisters. The rest part of the day, “the church part” was basically an intrusion in my very tight schedule of Sunday activities. There was always so much to do; there was “ten-ten”, “suwe”, “police and thief” “plucking ebelebor” and other very important games with the neighborhood children. I enjoyed my observation post in church since all I ever had to do was sit quietly, make up stories in my head and wait until the service was over.

All this was about to change one Sunday when Thomas visited our home. You see, Thomas was “one of Daddy’s people”. This simply meant he was one of those people that could call at any time of the day. He could eat breakfast, lunch and dinner and still call the next day. He needed no excuse to visit, because he was from the same village as my father. Thus, he was “one of Daddy’s people”. I peeped from my hideout behind my father’s chair as Thomas informed my father that he thought it was time I and my brother started attending catechism classes to prepare us for “holy communion”. What! How dare he intrude on my care-free church participation? I was perfectly happy just sitting. I had seen the lines of sober people standing for communion, and watched their lips moving as they confessed and prayed for contrition. They always seemed to be in pain and I did not want to be part of whatever pain they all seemed to be going through. I ran with this terrible information to my brother whose own afternoons were spent playing football. His new fixation then was the Brazilian mid-fielder “Zico” and even wore a Brazilian jersey with the number “10” printed on the back. The news however meant nothing to him, as he bounced his ball up and down. In fact, he seemed to be happy about the recent development. I realized later on, that the football field was right next to the proposed venue of the catechism classes, and my brother spent many happy hours on the field instead of in a stuffed classroom.

That summer, the world of religion was opened to me and left me asking more questions than I thought were possible. Some were answered and some were not. Some, I am still asking after so many years. You could say, that care-free innocent view of the world was lost….forever….and I blame Thomas.

As we all celebrate at this time of the year, Christians and Muslims, I pray that we all find in our hearts, those times of innocence when we were able to see beyond the confines of our churches or mosques. May it be a time for compassion and love to our fellow brothers and sisters but most of all, please Lord, do something about this country. Amen.

P.S: Those of you serving starch and banga soup, please feel free to invite me at waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Happy Easter!

It takes a fool to remain sane

2008-03-17T18:57:00.000-07:00

So, this week, it has been discovered that a citizen of this county had a pipeline, used for smuggling crude oil, running directly into his home. A private citizen like you and me. Nothing special about this man at all, he does not have two heads and neither was he born on a special day. He was born on an ordinary day, in an ordinary month. The only thing that makes this man so special is that he was born in Nigeria. Yes, only in Nigeria can such a thing happen. Only in Nigeria can a private citizen “steal” crude oil from a refinery without the refinery or the government’s knowledge.

Yesterday, I performed an experiment. I went into the home of a neighbour and stole a bottle of normal cooking oil, vegetable oil to be precise. Do you think my neighbour did not notice? Within an hour, my phone was blasted with calls and texts. Of course my neighbour knew that a bottle of oil had gone missing even though it was just a small bottle. Now, please, can somebody, explain to me how in the world a pipeline of crude oil is connected to a man’s house without anybody’s knowledge? How is that possible? I repeat again, a pipeline? Where else but Nigeria could such a thing happen? Where else but Nigeria will we be proud to announce to the world that we have caught “a pipeline thief”?

It seems that there are thieves and there are thieves. In Nigeria, greed is insatiable. The hunger for money is insatiable. It is never enough. Even if we have enough money to last a couple of generations, we want more. Yet, this is the same country where almost everybody you meet is either a born again Christian or a devout Muslim. Forget about the pagans, they do not exist except in Nollywood. So it seems we all have the fear of God in us.

Our appetite for money is drowning this country. We are the laughing stock of the world because we cannot control ourselves. Everything has to be in excess. The cars have to be jeeps when you know very well how narrow and congested our roads are. The houses have to be mansions so it can be seen from far and wide when you know very well they are huts at the turn of the corner. The fabrics have to be strong and heavy when you know the ferocity of our sun. Nothing is ever done in moderation. Just like every project we embark on, we manage to cause wastage and spillage.

Nevertheless, we turn a blind eye everyday to these things. Just like I have never figured out who throws dirt on the road (it cannot be the Christians because “cleanliness is next to Godliness” and definitely not the Muslims since they wash five times a day and the pagans do not exist), we shall all live with the ridiculous situation in this country and once in a while, say “God dey” or “It is well”. We shall pretend that it is possible for a private citizen to connect a pipeline to his home and we shall also pretend that we have a great police force who managed to make this discovery after months of underground work and investigation.

P.S: To borrow the words of Patrick Obahiagbon, the Edo state representative in the National assembly, you all should stop “big stouting”, “suyaing” and “peppersouping” and get to work. The security problem in this country is out of control. Whose mother, wife or sister has to be raped by an armed robber before something is done? Whose baby has to be shot at close range before something is done? People are suffering and yet their cries seem to be falling on deaf ears. It is only a matter of time before people start taking matters into their hands. Abeg, I don tire.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Embarrassing!

2008-03-09T05:17:00.001-07:00

My people! The tory wey I get for una today, no be small thing oh! In fact, wey I read the thing I no know whether to laugh or cry. Na so, I just dey mind my business one early evening wey my friend Chris come give me one kain unbelievable story! I swear, remain small I for rak the guy, but as I take my own eye see the thing, I no even fit talk again.

Our very own Goodluck Jonathan (bros, how na? I salute oh!) seems to think that the power situation in Nigeria is “embarrassing”. Why, you may ask….is it because millions of people all over Nigeria have to wear rumpled clothes to work every day? No. Is it because tailors and saw-mill owners all over the country have all lost their customers, gone bankrupt and are now no longer contributing to the economy? No. Is it because Doctors and nurses all over the country have lost patients in the middle of operations when power fails? No. What more then, you ask? Is there anything more embarrassing that all of the above mentioned? Yes, my people, it seems, believe it or not, there is.

According to our one and only Goodluck Jonathan, the fact, that there was power failure in the middle of a meeting (held at Sheraton international hotel) is very “embarrassing”. Embarrassing ke? You don’t say? Which country are you living in? Millions of people have been living with this so called “embarrassment” for as long as they were born. The younger generation (not all those ajebutter silverbird children oh! I know some of them are not even aware that there is something called “power failure”) are experts at when they will be light. Ask any young boy in Warri, with precise calculations, he will tell you if there is any need to “hope” for light on a certain day. It goes like this: “light? Today? Let me see…two weeks ago, on a Thursday we had light for two hours….wait…then last week, we had light for one hour….ehhhhh, we might, if they don’t give it to the other area…well, pray sha, maybe”.So my dear Jonathan(may I call you Johnny?), my dear Johnny boy, the word to use in this country when it comes to our light/electricity/power issues is not “embarrassing” or “upsetting” or “uncomfortable”, the word you should have used is TRAGEDY. Yes, that’s a very good word for what is happening in this country. I am tired of everybody sugarcoating our problems with nice little English words, let’s go wild here, why not DISASTER? It is only when the government sees the reality of the situation that they can ever hope to solve the problems.

P.S: To the Governor that refused to open a hospital for more than two years, because he was waiting for the president to come and “cut ribbon”. Shebi you see yaself now? Now, wey the people come vex anyhow, burn the thing go ground, una dey make noise? Una suppose don open that hospital long time ago even before dem paint am self, instead una dey wait make dem come cut ribbon!

Abeg, next time, if na to cut ribbon, no waste time, just call me sharp sharp, even if I no get scissors, I for use razorblade!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Made in China vs. Made in Nigeria

2008-03-02T04:10:00.000-08:00

Note: The issues discussed in the below article is for the common man alone. If you buy your shoes, clothes and bags from “boutique” and “abroad”, take no notice of this article.

Shinkpa! Na dat kain sound my sandal make wey the thing cut for road. To say the truth, I was not surprised. I knew the day was fast approaching, after all it had “made in China” written on it. I blamed myself for buying it. I could have gone to the “Ibo market”, (that “g” for “Igbo” dey miss for our waffy pronunciation) near main market to buy it but it was getting late and I wanted to get back to Effurun on time so I bought “made in China” and now it has happened. I know all these big women in Abuja will be surprised, abeg my sisters, life is hard jare, we cannot afford “Jimmy Choo” and “Manolo Blahnik”, some of us actually go around without any label on our shoes, talk less of designer! Anyway, the Ibo market in Warri has served me well over the years, especially my teenage years, when all I wanted in my whole life was a pair of designer jeans. Everybody in Lagos was wearing them, and so I believed and was so sure it was a necessity in my young life. Nobody was going to spend such a ridiculous amount on jeans and especially not in Warri where the most anybody would say, would be “dis jeans get as e be! Na bend down pick you go”? So, with my meager resources, I found my way to the Ibo market where the boys listened with great sympathy to my plight. After a lot of describing and explaining, Ugo, right there on his table, drew the most perfect imitation of my dream jeans. The next week saw me leaving Ibo market with not one pair, but three different pairs of jeans in black, red and blue. It was one of my most satisfied moments in my adolescent life.

These days, our markets are flooded with Chinese products, shoes, bags, clothes, you name it and the Chinese have it. We have to buy them, we say, the poor man has no choice. So with eyes wide open, we buy shoes we know will fall apart in a week or two. If it is the dry season, we might be lucky to get a couple of months out of the shoe. If it is the rainy season, then we know, two days of hopping from one okada to another will “kill” the shoe. Yet, we are not worried; we throw it away, get on okada to the nearest market and buy the next “made in China”.

Now, that is all well and good if we had no choice, but we do have one. We have our own “China” in Nigeria. We have our own boys whose skills and talents will match any Chinese any day, any time. Why do we not support our own? What is the Chinese offering that our people cannot do? Before the Chinese remembered Africa, was the poor man not making do with our own “made in Onitsha” products? All of a sudden, these products are too “inferior” for us. We look down on the products that have served us well when we had nothing. I am sure some of you would deny it, no, you have never bought “Aba made”, well, shame on you! When will we learn to be proud of our own? When will we learn to support our own? We import goods by the hundreds when we have the skills and manpower here? We help another country with its economy and deny our own country that right?

The Chinese have no shame putting “made in China” on their products, yet we are so ashamed of our own products that we rather leave it without any label or better still, write another country’s name. What kind of country is ashamed of its own people? What kind of people are we that we rather buy the products made in another country than to buy our own? Shame on us!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Democracy ke?

2008-02-23T19:11:00.000-08:00

Do not tell me we have democracy in this country, you may call our system anything you like but please do not insult my intelligence by calling it democracy. I may not have studied “government” in secondary school and neither did I study “political science”, but I always knew this line, as millions of people across the world: “A government of the people, by the people, for the people”. This is what I have always thought democracy to be. I know my fellow waffarians will be laughing hysterically by now; their common expression would be “na who dash us?” My people, nobody “dashed” us, we do not have such a government and therefore, we cannot claim to have democracy. Now, I know some positive people and optimists out there might take offence to such a statement, thus, I have tried, very simply, to break it down.

Now, except I have become blind, I do not see any government of the people. If anybody knows of any minister, senator, governor, that you have rubbed shoulders with on buses, or seen on okadas in the last twenty years, please inform me. The people in the government are not even from our world….they watch CNN and BBC, play golf, and polo. Polo ke? Ah! You are wondering what polo is, you see yourself? Poor man no good oh! Let me continue, they drink champagne and eat hors d’oeuvres (no ask me wetin hors d’oevres mean, na “starter”, I know say una no dey chop dat kain thing, but rich people dem, dem like to tease their tongue first, before the main food go land, na the best explanation I get) they have weekend escapes in Dubai and New York, and have helicopter rides and boat cruises….have you ever done any of that? Are those the kind of people you move around with everyday? Ehen, now you see what I am talking about, they are people of course, but they are not OF you.

A government by the people....this one…na wa. I do not even know where to start here, anybody that voted in the last elections would tell you the insanity that was the elections. Area boys, weapons, missing ballot boxes, closed centers…it was chaos, or as those oyibo people go call am “irregularities”. All in all, they were not fair, and except you count the area boys, the winners were not voted by the people. End of story.

Let us take the next point, FOR the people: I do not need to look too far, our senate is the perfect example. These ones have not yet realized that they are ONLY representatives for their people. In their minds, they think they are there to serve themselves and carry out personal crusades. Some of them do not even know why they are there or how they got there in the first place. Tell me how these people are supposed to serve the people when they are not even aware of “which” people they are supposed to serve? It is no wonder our madam dared to propose such a ridiculous bill and it is no wonder that such a bill is going on to its second reading. Yet, bear in mind, that in all that has been happening, the people have spoken, but please ignore us, carry on with a personal vendetta that has nothing to do with the wishes of the people, after all, we do not have democracy in this country.

Right now, we are all trying to agree on what “transparency” means, after that, we are going to find out what “accountability” means, and then we still have to figure out what the “rule of law” means. The last one is a very tricky thing indeed, devised by our current president; it will go down in history as the phrase that had so many meanings that meant nothing.

P.S: Shebi una know say Ibori still dey outside? Just in case una don forget…..

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

The unfortunate bill

2008-02-10T07:33:00.000-08:00

I see that madam went ahead with her unfortunate bill, even, after all my advice? Well, since she is determined to continue, I might as well give her my list too. Madam, here is my list of all the forms of men clothing I feel are totally inappropriate in our society, in fact, I propose you ban them all, thank you.

French suit: Ah! You all are thinking what my problem is right? Well, I have noticed that most French suits are exceptionally tight around the waist, thus, showing the outline and contours of the mens’ “big belle”. In fact, I am still traumatized by the memory of my secondary school economics teacher.

Kaftan: Have you seen Kaftans blowing in the wind? Not decent at all, this is a sight that is both terrifying and unbecoming for women to experience. They should be banned immediately.

Agbada: Are you all surprised? Well, let me explain, agbada is the number one cause of decadence in this country. Yes, you all heard me right. In fact, sightings of these magnificent garments have been known to cause riots in our universities. The beauty of that thing…the beautiful movement of the hands, reaching to gather the falling cloth ahhhhhh, the thought of all that money beneath the garment, imaginary or real….if there is one wear that should be banned, it has to be the agbada. This cloth alone is responsible for “madam/oga syndrome”, we see the “agbada” and immediately we lose all our senses, our thoughts become focused on the wads of notes waiting for us…to be bribed. If this is not a cause for concern, then I do not know what is. I sincerely hope madam’s husband is not guilty of wearing any of the above mentioned clothes, which would be a shame indeed.

While we are at it, why not ban all forms of traditional wear? To say the truth, I am tired of seeing men strolling around with nothing but wrappers wrapped around their waists, they might as well start wearing what we used to call “lion cloth” those days. Also, I have never understood the whole bowler hat and wrapper thing....feels like a post-colonial effect….and what’s with the feathers on hats, horse whips etc? Perhaps madam is right after all? Yes, let’s ban all forms of traditional wear.

P.S: I task everybody to stop tasking everybody. Haba! What is it? Task, task and more task! Instead of “tasking”, can somebody actually start doing something? That is the problem with this country; nobody wants to do the job, much better to “task”. I appeal especially to governors to remove this English word from their speeches. It has become tiresome, stop “tasking” the citizens of your state and start working. In fact, I propose we ban the word “task” thank you.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

An idle mind.....

2008-02-03T04:26:00.000-08:00

Na wah oh! Wonders will never cease in this country! My people, if I tell you what is happening here, you will not believe me. It is total chaos in our markets! Women are running helter-skelter, they say another madam for Abuja wan carry all of them go prison! All these Abuja madams self, I don tire for them, first of all, that other one with im massage wahala, now, this one don come with cloth palaver. Wetin? If you wan turn to tailor, abeg just tell us, I fit hook you up with one of my guys for Jakpa junction, no come dey use our women for experiment.

I implore all the rest of the members of the senate to please help this madam figure out the purpose of her job. I would also like a list of all her main duties read out to her loud in English and vernacular so that she can understand what she is supposed to do. I blame the senate for allowing this woman to be led blind folded into her duties. It is obvious that nobody sat her down properly to explain the duties of her job. I am very sure that “chasing other women” for “indecent dressing” was not listed as one of them.

Since the poor woman does not have any idea of what she can do, I have decided to put her on the right part, before my waffy women begin get hypertension. After discussing this matter with a couple of women, here are the three main issues we would like madam to address, that is, if she has time, of course.

Bill to protect battered women from husbands: The way some women are treated in this country, I often wonder if abusive men do not have mothers, sisters or daughters. Women from all walks of life being abused and yet when reported in police stations, they are told it is a “family matter”. No it is not, and neither is it a case for “church” to solve either. If a woman comes to a police station, it is for the police to act on the information being given and protect the woman from the man. If the police do not help them, then whose job is it? Well, here’s something you can all debate on.

Bill for stiffer laws on child abuse: I wonder how we think in this society when we see young children under the hot sun hawking products when they are supposed to be in school. We sit in our air conditioned cars and buy “credit” or “pure water” from them, whilst our own kids are in the comfort of their classrooms. How can we, in the society watch this around us and think it is okay? We go to the villages and bring young girls and boys, sometimes younger than the very children they are supposed to care for, we watch them wash our clothes, sweep our houses, cook our food…a young child….and we think this is okay? It is alright to see a child do an adult’s work that we cannot do ourselves? We hear of uncles and aunties molesting nieces, cousins and neighbors, we hush them up, we let the children carry the weight of the act, without treatment and rehabilitation, we see the offenders everyday walking free in the society, whilst the child bows his/her head in shame, and we think it is okay?

Bill for stiffer laws for rapists: I would like to know what percentage of rapists in this country actually ends up in jail, that is, if they do. If there is one act that destroys the soul of a woman it is rape. The women are left traumatized for life, and again, without any help or justice, they often have to live in the same environment as the rapists. If we continue to live in a society where it is okay for women to be treated like this, then shame on us, all of us, men and women.

I would have written more, but it is not my job to list out issues that even the blind in our society already know about. It is the job of the people that are getting paid already, like our madam in Abuja.

P.S: However, there is nothing wrong in the madam herself wanting to be covered from head to toe. It is her right as an individual, if she like self, she fit carry burka or even blanket self, wrap am around her head, na her concern be that, after all, she get A.C, the heat no go kill am!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Compensation for being a Nigerian

2008-02-03T04:23:00.000-08:00

Dem take light for Ghana stadium! Yes they did, just before the game of Mali and Benin republic and believe me, nobody laugh pass me! I fall from chair self. It was good to know that even a football match being watched by the whole world could not stop that pesky factor in the African continent from rearing its ugly head. It was a refreshing moment; after all, truth should be encouraged, always. Meanwhile, dem don increase “pocket money” for all our government people dem. Haba! Where una wan chop dey go? Wetin una need all that money for? Na the latest native wear dey cause all this wahala? If na im, I fit give una discount from Effurun market. Abi na all those Switzerland schools dey hala una pikins dem? Make una no worry; we get better schools for here. Ibori don furnish dem well well, your kids will be in good hands, we get Urhobo college, Hussey college, Dom Domingos, Our Ladies, abeg, send then come dis side.

Meanwhile, abeg make una increase my salary for being a Nigerian citizen. It is not easy. In fact, I might just sue this government; after all, you are responsible for the majority of my problems in life. The constant head ache I get is from the sound of all your generators and acs on full blast. The ulcer I have in my stomach is from the constant stress anytime I get on your so called high ways. The heart palpitations I get are as a result of seeing your mobile policemen on the road and I have been known to have panic attacks at the sight of your planes and runways. You are the cause of all my health problems and I demand compensation. At the very least, send me a year’s supply of “mis-mag” and panadol.

That being said, it is with great sorrow that I announce the passing away of Integrity. Ah! You don’t know her? Well, I do not blame you all; she used to live during the times of our great grandfathers. She used to carry her head with dignity and pride; she was respected by people from far and wide. In fact, there was a time when men were known to fall on their knees and shudder at her very presence. She was declared as dangerous and unpredictable and since then, she has been in hiding. She has been weak for some time now, the people that used to take care of her, left her to the dogs. A few passersby from time to time threw her a bone or two, but how can one feed on that alone? The funeral arrangements will be announced shortly.
Also declared missing are the following persons: Honesty, Decency, Truth, Morality and Honor. We advice all citizens of the country to be on the lookout for these people and contact the nearest government agency if you happen to recognize any of them. They are rumors that some of them might still be hiding in the government.

P.S: Meanwhile, those of una wey wan begin fight for senate, I advice you all to take lessons from the boxing champions at the House of Representatives. I am sure they have tips on how to fight with agbadas and suits. It is never too early to start practicing. Practice makes perfect!

P.S.S: Abeg, presido, you fit buy me some of those milk chocolates from Switzerland? I go pay you wey you land. Plus some cheese, but make sure you choose well oh, no allow them cheat you because you be foreigner, and no buy from Tax free, e dey too expensive. Try go the local markets dem, dem go cheap pass. Thank you, God go bless you!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Double application for future oil allocations from NNPC and construction contracts from NDDC

2008-01-27T08:35:00.000-08:00

Please check all of the boxes below, and also, do not forget to enclose a personal letter with this application form.

Do you have connection in high places? If yes, check the box most applicable to you. If no, do not bother continuing with this application

Minister
Governor
President
Senator

Do you like fun?

Yes
No
I don not know what fun is

If you have checked the box “I do not know what fun is”, do not bother continuing.

Do you like to travel?

Only in Nigeria
In Africa
Overseas

What kind of native material do you like?

Adire
Lace
Ankara
Brocade

What kind of food do you enjoy?

Chicken peri peri
Pepper soup
Pounded yam
Jollof rice

Dear Sir/Madam,

My name is Waffy Waffarian and I am an indigene of Delta State. I have recently been made aware that your establishments allocate contracts on a regular basis to citizens of the country. I have been informed that no prior experience in any sort of development work as in the case of NDDC, is necessary.

Since I am an indigene of the Niger Delta area, I am supposing that I might have a better chance of getting these contracts and oil allocations. Although I do not have any sort of connection in the government, I have written to Yaradua on several occasions and I am sure to get a reply from him, any day now. Also, I have experience in sleeping on leather couches, reading magazines and eating jollof rice, I am told, this might be a good attribute to have. I also like to wear native attire and in fact, I have just ordered the latest material from Ghana, so I will be a worthy ambassador of your good names.

Furthermore, I enjoy travelling to exotic places, visiting the best spas around the world, and have been known to enjoy a helicopter ride or two, thus making me a perfect candidate for future contracts and oil allocations.

P.S:I just want to bring to your attention the N17. 5 Million naira that is causing wahala in one of the western states. Something about a statue. Is that your money too?

Yours sincerely,
Waffy Waffarian

Reform plan for Niger Delta

2008-01-20T14:15:00.000-08:00

Make una siddon there dey look! Na so all of us here dey shake like leaf wey wind dey blow! Una never hear? Dem don carry mercenaries enter the matter! Oghene biko! Una dey there dey give us tory about Ridabu every day, meanwhile, all these MEND and counterparts dey do their own for here. As una no wan do anything, I take God beg una, make una give me chance, make I solve this wahala, I get my plans already.

Start building: I don’t care how much it costs, start the building of hospitals, schools, roads, hospitals, all at the same time, let things start happening. Look, if you think it’s too hard, leave it to me, one phone call, and in a month things will start rolling. Yes, that’s what you use the internet for.

Open an unemployment agency: You think this is funny? Where do you think we are going to get the manpower for all these buildings about to be put up? From our local boys and girls that’s who! And the name self, dey “sweet”, e come be like serious matter.

Sports hall: Let every community have a sports hall. Yes, for basket ball, table tennis, volley ball and all those other sports our P.E. teachers teach us “theory” about. We have enough talents in that area, you need coaches? Leave that to me, one e-mail, and I will get you the best coaches from the former U.S.S.R. Considering the fact say most of us dey swim before we even begin waka, I have never understood why Nigeria has not made it to international swimming competitions. I can bet you, that Ufuoma my childhood friend will “overtake” any of those Australian wonders.

Cinemas: Yes, we love nollywood. See us laughing and we will forget all those serious issues threatening to drown us. Na for cinema we go siddon everyday.

Arts and performance schools: If you have not noticed, we waffarians have a talent in the arts sector. We can make you roll on the floor with laughter at any given time of the day. Let us tap into this, na natural resource.

Fishing industry: Wetin dey do una self? Una no know say many countries dey survive solely on fishing? Make I tell una one secret, una go laugh: You know that kain rubber fish wey hard , wey poor people dey chop for dis country, una know say una dey import am? I don talk about this particular matter reach.

Tourism: Look, if you see our fine fine creeks and water ways for here, (the ones wey Shell never pollute), na so I dey watch discovery planet, if you see as tourists just dey praise all the creeks dem…I come vex, cos our own fine pass all those Asian people own dem! The thing vex me. After all, we have the best rain forest in Africa, green, lush, beautiful, if they could only see it, they will understand.

Night life: We need discos, clubs, bars, places where the people can sit and relax and enjoy themselves after a hard day’s work. You all have them in Lagos and Abuja, why can’t we have them here? I am telling you, we have nothing here. What do you expect the young and restless to do after 7 o’clock? They can’t watch TV anyway, there is no light.

Palm oil and Garri: Okay, I know a lot of people think Ijebu garri is of high quality, but ask any southerner, yellow garri is the best for eba. Ijebu garri is the best for “soaking”, any child that went to boarding house will tell you that! Anyway, all our palm oil making “refineries” are down. We need to empower that sector, let’s use what we have.

Give all MEND members enough money and scholarships to live abroad. Yes, we shall pay, name the country and the school or vocation you have chosen, we have the money, we will send you anywhere. I suggest Australia or New Zealand; they have a history of accepting criminals.

Anyway, as una see, I get my own plan, where una own? Una own na to form committee every day, Abeg, Presido, halla at me, make I solve dis matter. You can reach me on waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

P.S: I have many more ideas for our people, no consultation fees required.

Welcome to Hotel Kaduna

2008-01-11T07:48:00.001-08:00

Welcome to the hotel Kaduna,
Such a lovely place, such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the hotel Kaduna
Anytime of the year, you can find it here…..

I can’t get that song out of my head. Ever since Layabout came back from Abuja…you all remember him don’t you? He moved to Abuja to become a masseuse during the days of Madam Etteh when being a masseuse was fashionable. Well, he has since returned. He says Abuja weather does not agree with him and he missed Banga soup too much. Anyway, he says he is now moving to Kaduna, he heard there is a prison there that is like a five star hotel. According to him, this prison has electricity, 24 hours a day, and when the electricity fails, they put on a generator. Imagine! Have you ever heard of such a thing in Nigeria? They even have cable TV! Don’t start gaping just yet; you have not heard the best part. He says if you become an inmate of the prison, it is obligatory for the prison to throw regular parties for you and your friends at least twice a week. My people! You know, I used to be very suspicious of Layabout’s yarns, I thought he was the one insane, but anything can happen in this country.

Why can’t a prison be a five star hotel? Everything in this country has no logic; cows graze on runways, highways are lakes, lakes are rubbish dumps, rubbish dumps are restaurants. Abeg, anything can be anything; our only limit is our imagination.
Our policemen/women are beggars; retired civil servants are beggars, teachers, beggars, handicapped, beggars. In fact, come to think of it, in one way or the other, we have all become beggars. Constantly begging for one thing or the other. If we are not begging for light, it is for water or some other basic amenity. Yes, I dare say, a prison being a five star hotel makes perfect sense in this insane world we live in.

However, before you all go rushing off to Kaduna, there is a small catch in the matter. Do not think stealing “bonga fish” will give you admittance in this high class establishment, na only if you hold “Gold card” for serious theft, dem go even look ya face. Well, I hope Layabout makes it this time, I wish him all the best although I cannot imagine him being successful in crime. As for me, I am left here, singing this dreadful song that will not just go away!

On a dark desert highway,
Warm smell of suya, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dimmer
I had to stop for the night

Welcome to the hotel Kaduna,
Such a lovely place, such a lovely face
They are living it up at the hotel Kaduna
What a nice surprise, bring your alibis….

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Nylon bags

2008-01-07T19:15:00.001-08:00

The wretched nylon bags!

I have been having sleepless nights, no; it is not the flesh eating demons of our roads that have been chasing me but “nylon bags” as we say in Warri. I don’t know why Lagosians always laugh when I say “nylon bag”, for your information, it is more ridiculous to call it “paper bag” or “water proof”. In my dream, they were flying everywhere, different shapes and colors, entangling me in a web. I woke up sweating and almost had a heart attack when I saw that one had blown in through the window. It is not only nylon bags that have been chasing me but empty plastic bottles, banana peels, “pure water” sachets, brown pieces of cardboard boxes, orange peels....

I don’t know how you all sleep at night, how do you pass overflowing gutters in your neighborhood and not have nightmares about it? The last time I went past one, I had a terrible nightmare, but I won’t bore you all with that now. I have been thinking…do you think our President is aware of the takeover by those wretched nylon bags? In my mind, I really do believe they are planning a takeover, really, they are everywhere, on the sides of roads, on roof tops, stuck in tires, in the gutters, hanging on trees, especially the black ones. Where do they all come from? Okay, I know people throw them away, but why on earth are they everywhere? Are they not all supposed to be in a refuse dump somewhere? I mean, let’s look at the normal order of used products, you use them, then you put them in a bin, (dust bin) and then, somebody collects them and they mysteriously disappear, recycled, or ends up an incinerator or perhaps used in a compost pit? That’s the logic right? I am sure there is a government agency whose job it is to clean up all this mess, or is there?

It is a mystery I tell you and one that I must get to the bottom of!
The only way to find out for sure is to go to Aso rock and see who collects their refuse. I am sure our President who loves the “rule of law” will certainly not stand for any sort of hanky-panky. His rubbish, I am sure, must be deposited in a bin, which in turn is collected by a special government or non government agency (it is this particular link we are trying to find) and then, burnt in an incinerator somewhere in Abuja. The only problem is that I am not willing to risk my life in vain on our roads to get to Abuja, that is why, I am beseeching the President, to please send us the name of the agency responsible so that I can get in contact with them, or even better, if he could tell me the exact time when his own garbage is being collected so I can waylay them. It is very important that I get in touch with them as soon as possible; my doctor says these nightmares are not good for my health.

N.B: Please, I‘d like to just say, to the governor of Yobe state that donated 1,6 million and 28 bags of “assorted/multi grains” to the families of auto crash victims, may the almighty God bless you for your generosity and seeing you are in such a generous spirit, perhaps you might take it upon yourself and your administration to repair the roads as well, thus avoiding such accidents in the future. Did I hear a yes? We thank God.

Waffy Awards 2007

2008-01-07T19:14:00.001-08:00

By Waffy Waffarian

Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen, to the first annual waffy awards where Nigerian people and places are awarded for their contributions to different areas of entertainment. Before we proceed, I’d like to say that all nominees were voted by a panel of expert judges and after much deliberation arrived at a winner. The awards cannot be contested and all forms of complaint will not be looked into, although suggestions will be taken into consideration.

BEST ACTION SEQUENCE 2007

Nominees:
1) Niger Delta
2) House of Assembly
3) Ondo state

And the winner is Niger Delta! Ah! All the kidnappings of white men here and there, speed boats appearing from nowhere, oil explosions, all mixed up with espionage, guns and serious money. Ondo state was a close runner up with area boys taking over politics in true Al Capone style, but the fact that Niger Delta made it to CNN,( washing our dirty laundry like that in public!) not even Delta TV…abeg, una win hands down.

BEST DRAMA SEQUENCE 2007

Nominees:
1) James Ibori
2) Niger Delta
3) Murtala Nyako and his four wives
4)Madam Etteh

And the winner is Ibori! Okay, I know, you are all thinking Madam Etteh should have won, but let’s not forget that the Ibori show is still on, with market women baring their breasts, elders making fools of themselves, different groups constantly embarrassing the good people of Delta State, this drama has just begun. Ibori wins this award for evading the “rule of law” in a lavish and nonchalant style that can only be found in Spanish soap operas, he wins. Please, I implore people not to bare breasts or make threats; next year is another year, na turn by turn.

BEST COMEDY SEQUENCE 2007

1) Orji Kalu on BBC
2) House of Assembly

Without much deliberation, the winner is of course the House of Assembly, although Orji Kalu was certainly up there, his performance on hard talk is one that even our waffy comedian “I go die” could not rival. In fact, that is a good Christmas present, one to get your “ribs cracking” as we say in the comedy world. The House of assembly wins this prestigious award for showing that old men, fathers can still be active in the entertainment sector. I mean, it is no secret that those big agbadas prevent them from doing their jobs, but who would have thought that they could put on boxing matches with such clothing? It was delightful! Now that’s what I call true comedy!

So there you have it, my people, the year has come and gone, but we the people, are still here. That is why the last award, COURAGE IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY goes to us, the people of Nigeria, for showing courage and tenacity in the face of all the action, drama and comedy. Good luck my people, next year is a new year, and that too, we shall survive. Happy New Year.

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

10 musts for a Naija Christmas

2008-01-07T19:12:00.000-08:00

By Waffy Waffarian

1)Christmas rice: Must we eat rice at Christmas? What is so special about Christmas rice? Is it not the same party rice we are subjected to at weddings, birthdays and every other occasion? Actually I won’t mind eba on Christmas day, hot eba and ogbono soup, please if anybody is serving this on Christmas day, invite me.

2)Church: I cannot tell you how amusing it is for me to watch the whole neighborhood dress up in their best clothes, all that heavy lace, George, Ankara, haaaaaaaa, so you mean they have been hiding all these beautiful clothes? Where did they get them from? Take for example, mama Rukevwe the road side seller, she has transformed, her usual scanty hair is now full with “Bob Marley”. I just wonder, why did she not do this all year round?

3)Village: All these village travels, the village has been there the whole year, why must everyone now rush home like there is no tomorrow? Especially with our poor roads overwhelmed with all the “EkenediliChukwu buses”…..by the way, is it true that those buses have toilets and u can watch films on board? If anybody has travelled with one of those mighty monsters, get in touch, I’d like to know.

4)Father Christmas: Our father Christmas, poor men, they have to sweat in those horrible itchy costumes and give a way plastic toys to crying children writhing in their mother’s arms as if possessed by the devil…a nice contraction don’t you think? All the kids having epileptic seizures at the sight of the man in long cotton wool beard and red horrible clothes. Of course they are scared, after watching all those Nollywood films, what do you expect? When I was a child, I thought Father Christmas was “willy willy”.

5)Christmas goat: A sign of prosperity…everybody knows who bought a goat, we can all see it, tied with a rope right beside their house….we all know who has enough money this Christmas, just one goat, and your status in the neighborhood is well taken care of for the rest of the year. Who knew an ordinary goat could play such an important role in the society? Imagine a goat, determining the “who is who” in society, quite amazing don’t you think?

6)Christmas returnees: The Americanas, the Amsterdam boys, the jand bobos, this Christmas will be hot in Warri. I heard there will be serious oppression this time around. The cars have already been rolling in; from different ports. It will not be easy. If you are single this year, Warri is the place to be, our boys are giving those Lagosians a run for their money.

7)Accidents: I do not want to destroy the Christmas spirit, but this is our own Christmas myth. Everybody thinks the forces of darkness step up their game at this time of the year. Not so my people, our roads are too bad, and with the amount of vehicles travelling to the villages, it is inevitable that there will be an increase in the number of accidents.

8)Christmas television: This is an open request to all TV stations to stop bombarding us with Jesus of Nazareth part 1-3, church services, and variety shows. Please try and be innovative this year, show something else, we have all repented; we repent every hour on the hour. There are no sinners left, except in Abuja.

9)Christmas hampers: The receiving and giving away of Christmas “hampers” with the ever present bottle of groundnut and Eva wine/ fruit juice. I do not know where this hamper business originated from, but I do not like it. All the “hampers” being given to big men. As if they need it! By the way, what did our dear boxing champions in the house of assembly get this year? I am sure they will live up to their reputation and pamper themselves with very special hampers flown in from one country or the other.

10)Christmas visitors: Whole families, parents all dressed up in matching clothes, young boys in vests, little girls in “cork shoes”. This must be my favorite part of Christmas. You never know who might show up, a neighbor, your former teacher, a former neighbor, an old class mate, an old work mate. Expect anybody; Christmas day is the official “drop-in” day!

waffywaffarian@yahoo.com

Market

2008-01-07T19:10:00.000-08:00

My people, today, we shall be visiting our nearby market, I know all these big men and women don’t do their own shopping anymore, so I have decided to give them a firsthand account, I am sure, they will all enjoy our trip. Let’s, see, there’s the bus, we are on our way!

1hr later

Chineke! This is madness, it is market day, there are people, birds in cages, hawkers shouting at the top of their lungs, children and mothers, okada men and baskets of tomatoes, and wait...FILTH! It is everywhere, the gutters are overflowing, it is disgusting, pollution from vehicles nearby...no, I must be in the wrong place, can this be the market? Isn’t food supposed to be sold in a clean environment? I really hope all I have been eating did not come from here, I’ll have to ask my mother afterwards, because, this is just madness. Well, we are here now, let’s look at our list...hmmmm, meat, where is the meat section? Oh Lord! There it is, meat everywhere, sweaty men chopping away, and what the...Jesus on a bicycle! The machetes are so rusty! I can’t buy from him, I’ll die of food poisoning, no, let’s move on, ah, look, there’s a woman, she looks clean enough…. Ehhhh, is she using her bare hands to touch the meat? And some other customers too, there are just touching the meat with their hands, just like that? Have they never heard of bacteria? And look! There are thousands of flies, they are everywhere! No, I can’t buy here, I cannot. I refuse to buy bacteria infested meat. I have to call my mother, it is impossible....

“Hello, mummy, there is a mighty problem”

“What is it? Hurry up”

“The meat section....ehhhhh is there anywhere we can buy meat from a refrigerator?

“Look, that joke is too dry, what is the problem?”

“Ehhhh, I am not joking...The meat...they are just there like that, bacteria everywhere, and under the hot sun!”

“Is that why you called me? Don’t worry, we will pre- boil, and then boil, and then we will fry it. By the time we finish with it, there will be no bacteria left”

This is crazy. Food being kept like that, and under the hot sun too! And look at those birds in the cages. How can they survive all cramped up like that? I know what I’ll do, these people have been getting away with this for too long. I’ll call in the health inspectors, I’ll write a report, I am sure the government will take care of this mess in no time, especially that man with the rusty machete, something has to be done...Oh wait, a phone call...

“Hello?”

“Yes, waffy, it is mummy, before you think of going to the commissioner of health or doing any of your crazy ideas, just bring my meat home, you hear?”

“But I can submit it for evidence, in case the health people want to test it, I am sure they will find at least a hundred different kinds of bacteria in it”

“Don’t worry, we’ll send it from here, enter Okada and come home”

Well my people, I hope you enjoyed our trip to the market, I can assure you that this will be my last time in this disgusting place, now I understand why all those big people never come to these areas, it must be the filth. I don’t blame them, the sight is very disturbing.

P.S: Just in case Emma (I dey hail oh! Ehen!) reads this, could you please visit P.T.I road (Effurun)? They said they are fixing the road but I have a slight suspicion that a bomb was used in the process. The whole place looks like a scene from World War 2. That can’t be right, even if you are repairing roads; some sort of sanity has to be maintained. You might want to check that out, and while you are at it, please do something about the market (I am sure a Doctor like you will be appalled when you see the health risks) really, it is too bad.

P.S.S: When approaching the market (also in Effurun), you might want to use Okada as the road there is too narrow and will definitely not support an arcade of your vehicles. In fact, just call me when you reach P.T.I roundabout, my uncle has an Okada, maybe we can get him to give you a free ride, but I am not promising anything

Irreplaceable

2008-01-07T19:09:00.001-08:00

“Waffy! You get phone call oh! Na layabout, from Abuja!”

“Hello, Layabout, where you dey?”

“Sista, I don land Abuja”

"wetin dey happen?”

"I wan become massager”

"Massager? Wetin be dat? Ah! Okay, you mean masseuse! Why now?”

“Na the new profession for Abuja. Everybody wan be massager. Dem say dat woman, wey dey share rice and ram, dem say, she don order plenty equipment for massage reach this side, so everybody here, we dey go learn massage work, so wey equipment land, she go employ us join”

“So na dat side you go stay? Good luck, no forget us for this side oh!”
“ No wahala sista, I go land for Christmas”

It is very unlikely that Layabout with his lean hungry face will be employed as a “massager”, but I did not want to spoil his day. It is good he is learning a new vocation, much better than sitting on fences and spreading idle gossip. At least all that gym and massage equipment will be fully utilized, I am certain of it. Come to think of it, that woman might just be a genius. I am almost 100% sure that she ordered all that stuff for one of the following reasons:

1) To make employment opportunities for our young people in the society. There is a serious lack of masseuses in this country. Honestly, after all the hard work our ministers, governors, senators put in, they really need all those muscles relaxed. Especially all the hard working men in the House of Representatives (don’t forget all the extra time they put in for the compulsory “choir practice” and “P.E” exercises)

2) To “beef up” our police force. Honestly! Those people need to pump themselves up. It is no wonder there is so much crime, our police men, they are so skinny, hungry looking, perhaps, that’s why she ordered those equipment? Ah! What a thoughtful woman! All our men and women of the police force will be well trained and in perfect condition, ready to chase and even “overtake” fleeing suspects.

3) To encourage the garri making women in Delta State. To make garri requires a lot of muscles, and I heard madam was especially sensitive to the plight of our women, so this kind of gesture would not have been out of the ordinary.

4) To encourage “wellness” in the House of Representatives. Heart disease and obesity is on the rise in this country, not here in Warri of course, we are all hungry, but I have seen TV, those men, their agbadas hide a lot of weight underneath. Perhaps it is their health she is concerned about? What a caring woman! You know she is a beautician? It must be heart wrenching for her to see her work mates in their present shapes. Poor woman! That’s why she ordered all that gym equipment to whip them all into shape!

5) To donate everything to schools all over the country! Imagine the joy of physical education teachers; finally, they would be able to make sports men and women out of our youth! This could be a beginning, a journey to big things, like Olympics.
Could it be that Madam is that wise? She had such noble thoughts? What a brain! Being able to see how such equipment can better this country! Oh! What glory and honor for all Nigerians!

P.S: If I may, I‘d like to suggest to our president that madam might be more fitted to be the minister of health, her talents are wasted as speaker. Just a thought, while eating your fura de nunu and all that stuff, (I personally will recommend banga soup and starch, very nutritious and contains the key nutrients required in your daily diet) you might want to think about it.

P.S.S: Imagine those Warri children! I heard them singing that Beyonce’s song Irreplaceable, and these were the lyrics they were singing, how can they spoil such a beautiful song?

To the left, to the left
Everything you own in a Ghana must go to the left
In this house, that’s our right
Yes, if I voted, madam please go
And keep talking that mess, that’s fine
But could you walk and talk at the same time?
And it’s my right as a Nigerian
Abeg, move your bags jare, let me call you okada

Standing in the house of reps, telling us
How we are such fools, talking about
How we’ll never find a woman like you?
You’re irreplaceable?

You must not know ‘bout us
You must not know ‘bout us
We could have another you in a minute
Matter of fact, she’ll be here in a minute (madam)

So come and be going jo!
Call up that salon and see if they need extra help
Ooops! I bet you thought we didn’t know
What did you think we are packing you out for?
Because you was a yahooze
Rolling around in the house that we bought you
Abeg, drop them keys
Hurry up before your okada leaves

To the left, to the left
To the left to the left

Everything you own in a Ghana must go to the left
To the left to the left
Don’t you ever for a second get to thinking
You’re irreplaceable?

Special wedding brigade

2008-01-07T19:08:00.001-08:00

It all started on my way back to Ikeja, I was in high spirits, life was looking good, and the traffic was at least bearable, even though I had already been irritated by the small inconvenience of the “telephone card boy” running off with my 50 naira change! I would have chased after him, in fact, I am quite sure I would have caught him, after all, I used to be known for my agility those days in secondary school. Anyway, nobody explained the cardinal rule when buying from street vendors from a car window which is “get your change first”, so I gave him the money first, and off the guy goes like a gazelle! (this was at the roundabout at salvation road, he was about 5 foot tall, dark in complexion with tribal marks running down both sides of his face, he also had one of those yellow vests with a religious slogan on it, just in case).

I get to Ikeja and what do I see? My people, if I tell you, you won’t believe the sight that met my eyes. I was amazed; I never knew Nigeria had such a special force! All young men, police men, in special gear with dogs! Dogs! Rottweiler, German Shepherds, I was dumbfounded, I thought I was in one of those action movies, I kept expecting to see “Rambo”, in fact, if Arnold Schwarzenegger had appeared, I would not have been surprised. I really thought they were shooting a movie. They were all so clean and fresh, lined up by the side of the street with their dogs. It was a long line I tell you, and as usual, I just had to find out what was happening, perhaps all the presidents of the African Union were having a meeting somewhere in the vicinity? Imagine! Discussing the different ways on how to end the Darfur conflict, the meeting must be here, somewhere, perhaps at the Sheraton? But there goes my fantasy again, it might not be our African leaders, perhaps the governor is inspecting the police and its resources in fighting crime? Ahhhhhhhh that must be it! Our uniformed men and women, the best we have to offer, showing their skills in crime prevention? This is so exciting! Things are happening in this country and I am here, at the right place, seeing history happen, well, let us ask, see what is happening, then we can celebrate....

Waffarian: na wa oh, see as you just dey shine anyhow!

Policeman with dog:......

Waffarian: ah ah! I dey hail una oh! Anyway, bros, wetin dey happen? Na meeting?

Policeman with dog :.....(mumbles something)

Waffarian: what did you say? I did not catch that...is there a meeting somewhere around?

This man is clearly not feeling comfortable about his job, his head is bent, and he is mumbling....

Waffarian: speak up na! I no hear wetin u talk, na meeting?

Policeman with dog: na wedding

Wedding? This is quite strange, I have to find out more about this, you mean Nigeria has a special squad for weddings? Perhaps they have a special name, like “Nigerian Wedding brigade”, motto: “ensure smooth passage for the wedding train”, something like that, I guess, although I don’t know if other countries have a special wedding brigade, it must be a new concept, perhaps it comes in a package? “Includes flowers flown from South Africa and special wedding brigade”. How much does it cost I wonder? Do they do naming ceremonies as well? I have to ask; perhaps you can even get a discount if you order on time.

Needless to say, I spent the whole afternoon watching the special brigade, even though the officers did not seem so happy to answer my questions, I’ll have to write to their superiors about that, the special wedding brigade must always have a smile on their faces, after all, no be wedding?

Thank you Nigeria

2008-01-07T19:06:00.000-08:00

Thank you, Nigeria.

Thank you, my great country, Nigeria.

Thank you for allowing the public to participate in the elections; we would have felt left out otherwise, for this, we are eternally grateful. We are also forever grateful to you for showing us how democracy can be used as a tool in providing our area boys and touts with useful employment. Without these dear boys in politics, we would never have known their hidden talents.

Thank you for teaching all waffarians to be appreciative of our very own “okere market” which runs smoothly and orderly compared to the House of Representatives. Without that wonderful show you gave us, we would never have known what a gem we have in our own back yard.

Thank you for enabling all waffarians appreciate our military, without military presence in our lands, we would never have been able to appreciate the beauty of our military uniforms which I must say our young men wear with style.

Thank you for allowing our roads to become eroded craters, we would never have truly appreciated what patience means.

Thank you for not giving us light, we can now enjoy the true meaning of romantic evenings with candle light.

Thank you for showing us what our money is doing in Abuja, it gives us hope for our state, that one day, if we really try hard enough, we just might be able to make it.

Thank you for allowing for our wonderful green passport, without it, we would never know what it means to have the full attention of customs officers worldwide.
Thank you for allowing foreign embassies to treat us as criminals, we would never have appreciated the full meaning of going abroad.

love from Warri

2008-01-07T19:04:00.001-08:00

It was a cool evening in Warri, there was no light as usual and nothing seemed to be happening, the latest echo of gun shots had already faded away and the nearby church had not yet started their customary night vigil songs. I was bored so I decided to take my usual spot by the window and observe the going ons of my fellow waffarians. I soon noticed a man on a bike that stopped right in front of my home; he was talking to another man....

“How you dey?”

“long time oh”

“any better?”

“ssssssssssssssss, where you!”

Much to my astonishment, the man was looking straight at me, the signal was for me.

“Sir?”

“abeg, bring two tumblers there”

Although I could not imagine why I would give tumblers to strangers that I have never met before, the waffarian in me jumped to his command without once questioning the total lack of etiquette displayed by my fellow countrymen. Needless to say, I gave them two “tumblers”, and much to my astonishment, they proceeded to start drinking ogogoro(where the ogogoro materialized from, I cannot say, I am assuming he had it in his “French suit pocket”)and chat about old times right in front of my home. Their conversation soon bored me though and I headed towards the junction which can always be counted upon to produce enough action. A little girl stood by the roadside; she could not have been up to two years old and seemed to move with a speed very abnormal for a child that age. One can only begin to wonder how many children around the world are forced to grow up faster than they should due to circumstances. I noticed that nobody seemed to be in care of the little one, I started asking around....

Me: See as you leave your pikin for road anyhow!

Nearby newspaper man: sista, no be my pikin oh!

Me: which person pikin be dis? If car jam am nko?

Nearby newspaper man: Ah, car no fit jam dis one na, u know see as she don dey waka already?

The little girl seemed to know the area well, going around the huge craters by the side of the road and expertly dodging the mad okada drivers coming from the opposite direction. I sat with other busy bodies on a bench and decided to wait for the mother or whoever was in charge of the child. The little girl soon got tired of the road and proceeded to sit on the ground, beside the bench. A girl in a nearby store soon appeared, going over to the little child, she roughly nudged the child with the balls of her feet

“oya, fight me na,”

The child looked up at her and pushed the feet away....

“you no wan fight? Oya make we go chop”

The girl in the store was not in any way related to the little girl but had decided to share her food and take care of her until the mother showed up. It’s no wonder the small girl was a tough cookie, everybody around her seemed to be preparing her for a tough world. The girl’s mother never appeared while I sat there, but I met Monday, a man who I had known since childhood.

“Ah Uncle Monday wetin dey happen?”

“No work oh, my sista, you know say my white man don comot warri ,e be wan fix me job with another white man for Port-harcourt but my sista, I don work for white man all my life, abeg, I don tire to work for whiteman, I don tire”.

I left the little girl and uncle Monday at the junction, leaving them to the fate of a city that is worn out and tired. As for me, I crept into bed with the familiar sounds of Christian songs and gun shots in the air. Na so life be.

Waltzing through pain (2)

2008-01-07T19:03:00.001-08:00

Another adventure, it’s not as if the last adventure from warri to lagos was not enough, believe me, it was enough to last me for years, but my people, you know the situation in this country, one has to be able to face unexpected challenges. Thus, I had another opportunity to travel by road, this time to Warri.
It is 6’o clock in the morning and I am in high spirits, but………what is this? Is it raining? Oh Lord, rain in Lagos can only mean one thing: CHAOS. Not to worry, I know the drill now, cars in Nigeria all swim; they go against the law of nature so no problem.

8 o'clock

Lord have mercy, I am still on the way, the traffic is terrible, I cannot bear it, time to abort mission, really, the roads are too terrible, I ll soon start eating my fingers out of desperation, wait why are people still smiling? Do they not see what I see? Why is that guy still hawking in the rain? I really should stop and tell him about pneumonia...is that possible in Nigeria,to catch pneumonia? I should find out, ah ah! What is wrong with these people? Can’t they see we are all in the same boat here? Why are they blowing sirens and flogging cars? Where dem want make we shift go? Ah ah! Even a mad man can see that this is not a time for “sirens”, hissssssssss

9’oclock

Let’s try “greener line” this time around, their park seems so busy....Good, there are seats to Lagos, very good, I and my fellow traveler (who on this occasion we shall name “aproko”) get seats in the middle. Now, let us see the characters of our fellow travelers. Behind me are two pastors, I shall name them Peter and Paul for easy identification, beside them, a thick market woman, on the last row, four business men, all on the way to warri to sell or deliver products, I could not quite figure that out. Beside the driver, a young woman who has decided on this morning to kill us with the smell of “kessingsheen” in her hair. Let us call her “kessingsheen”, and beside her, an old gentle man. Now, to our driver, who I must say proved to be the lead character on this journey, I will call him “Koboko” head, (only because throughout the journey, I had to physically restrain myself from knocking his head with “koboko”).

And now, let the journey begin......

What is this ? A church person is going to start us off with prayers, good, one really needs prayers on these roads, infact, he should do a serious scripture confession, I want prayer warriors, holy water, holy oil....oh, he’s about to start....hmmmmm, this man na wah oh, his prayers are serious, wait oh! Did he just say “flesh eating demons” ah! Abeg, this prayer don dey fear me, which one be flesh eating demon again? , honestly, this is too much, now he is praying against the “blood sucking demons” on the road. I need to talk to this young man, set him straight, the “blood sucking and flesh eating demon” is the road. He should not be fooled, really, but no problem, he is doing this for free, out of the goodness of his heart…………ah, is he asking for money? I thought the prayer was for free? Anyway, here is 20 naira, after all that “flesh eating and bloodsucking” talk; I now doubt the capability of the young man.

4hours later
Ah, sleep is good in times like this, I am sure we are almost at Benin now, beautiful.....ehhhhhhh, No way! Somebody shoot me, excuse me. Where are we?

Koboko head: Na ore road we dey.

What do you mean Ore road? I can recognize Ore road when I see it, this is not Ore road, what is wrong with this man?

“Driver, this no be Ore road oh! No be this road we dey pass those days wey I dey go secondary school”,

Koboko head: “Ehn, this one na “old ore road” n aim we dey use now. “
Ah! I don’t get it, why will anyone choose to use a muddy, bumpy “forest trail” when we have a federal road that is tarred? This whole thing is not making sense to me.

“But driver, you mean the “real” road is worse than this road that has never been tarred?”

The man is not even responding anymore, he is now haggling with the village youths who have now used this opportunity to put their own “homemade” gate, consisting of a huge log of wood, across the muddy road. I am told this is a “toll gate”. I am speechless, I have nothing to say, the driver is busy haggling with the self appointed toll gate workers while I observe the thriving business (hawking) going on all around me.

2hours later

We have not left “old ore road”, we are now at the second “toll gate”, the workers here are younger, restless and more determined that the first toll gate workers.

1 hour later
We have still not left “old ore road”, we are now at the third “toll gate”, the workers here are older, I do not think they are part of the village youth association, I think they are the touts of the village. Peter and Paul draw my attention to the smell of “igbo” all around us. This toll gate seems to be the “bubbling” one, the guys are in high spirits, drinking and smoking, they seem to be having a good time, at the expense of Koboko head that has now launched into a tirade of curses in Yoruba.
Koboko head has proven himself to be a mad man. I think he escaped from Yaba, with all the pot holes and eroded craters, he drives as if he is on one of the best highways in the world. His talent is wasted on old ore road, he should be on formula one, I am sure he will give Schumacher a run for his money. I have pleaded, begged, admonished but Koboko head is bent on delivering us all personally to the flesh eating and bloodsucking demons. The rest travelers seem to be all scared of koboko head. Peter and Paul are quiet apart from mumbling “Jehovah jireh” and “elshadah” after every single morsel of food chewed and swallowed. Aproko is sleeping apart from raising up her head once in a while and saying “this driver!” or complaining about the chewing sounds of peter and Paul. The travelers on the last row are conversing in Yoruba with the market woman. Kessingsheen is bent on distracting koboko head with her little flirty looks, I am very worried about this, the last thing koboko head needs, is to be distracted. I’ll be watching this development closely. The old gentle man, I have no idea what he is doing, he must be in pain though, because the smell from kessingsheen’s hair must be pure torture.

4 o’clock

My people, that I am still alive today to write this story is a miracle. I have come to the conclusion that “driving from lagos to warri” should be added as a course in our driving schools (by the way, do people still learn how to drive?). All drivers of the “lines”, edo, delta, agofure, greener, edosa, and others too many to mention, all have a special language which we mere mortals cannot decipher. For example

Koboko head: Straight dey good?

Other driver: Ehn, straight good, use other side but na straight u go use enter.
(if anybody can make head or tail of this conversation, do not hesitate to write me)

At this point in time, we are now on a road called “paradise” road. As the old gentleman remarked, that name should be renamed “hell”, there was nothing remotely heavenly about that road. It was pure chaos. So much so, that a civilian who was immediately named “general”, took it upon himself to co ordinate traffic. The general did a good job but much to my astonishment there were about 6 policemen not less than 500 meters away, on the road. I am sure they had no idea about the chaos that was transpiring just down the road, I was going to inform them but then I saw the inscription on their vehicle, it said, “Operation clean”. They must have been on a high profile secret mission hence; they could not afford to be distracted. That must be the only explanation, I am certain of it.

6 o’clock.

We have all been on the road for about 10 hours. It is a shame. We are in Benin, stuck in traffic. Koboko head has not stopped once throughout the journey, instead the men occasionally hop down when in traffic, ease themselves by the roadside and hop back on. I brought the attention of the driver to the blatant ignorance of the women in the bus but the driver could see nothing wrong in women “hoping” as the men do. According to him, it was perfectly reasonable for a woman to hop down, go to the side of the road in the midst of igbo smoking self appointed toll gate workers, do her business and hop back on. None of the other travelers seemed especially concerned, apart from Peter and Paul who nodded sympathetically as I went on a rant about “discrimination”.

7:30

We are on the outskirts of warri, for once ia m speechless my thought warped up in banga soup and eba which I knew must surely be waiting for him at home. Suddenly, we are stopped by the police. The policeman is bent on making trouble, koboko head is already frustrated and angry and soon a fight is about to start. I can not believ it, I am almost home, I have to get home, I aks the policeman to forget about kobokohead and let us through. All of a sudden the last row comes alive, there are talks of us not giving the police man anything, “even if it means we stay here until 10”. Now, I understand them, yes, a revolution in this country is called for but now on the outskirts of warri, not after barely surviving kobokohead’s madness, the flesheating and bloodsucking demons, not after surviving old ore and paradise hotel. Not after all that. One has to learn to pick on’s battles, and as waffi, it would be irresponsible of me not to mention the dangers of entering warri at night. The last row is not convinced, they tell me there are from “lagos”, and are not really convinced about my warnings. Luckily, the policeman sees some sence and allows us to go. As the driver pulls into the car park, he informs us that one of their drivers was killed right in front of the park, about the same time, 7:30.

Rice and yam

2008-01-07T19:02:00.001-08:00

It was unusually quiet in my neighborhood, our area people had gone for thanks giving at the nearby church, it was rare for us to have light for two days straight, hence, the thanks- giving service. They have taken the goat that was being fed for Christmas to be slaughtered. We have had light for two days, we must celebrate. It was unfortunate that as soon as they left, the light disappeared with them. I was contemplating how to break the news to them when I saw Layabout with a “Ghana must go”,coming towards me.

“Sista, na go be this oh”

“Where to?”

“ehhh, dem say dem dey share rice and ram for Abuja, so I wan carry my leg reach there small, Rukevwe say I fit follow am for “agofure motors”.

“What do you mean they are sharing rice and ram? You have started with your stories again, abi?”

“No oh, dem say, person go do just one round of boxing match, after that, na rice and ram”

I have never heard of such a thing. Sharing rice and ram after boxing matches? Is that possible? He must have got his facts wrong again, as usual. Rice and Ram indeed!I have never heard of any country sharing rice.Perhaps it was for Independence Day? Could it be that the government has decided to give every household a bag of rice? That seems more feasible to me. We all deserve bags of rice in this country, even if it is “ekpoma rice”, we all deserve it. I remember all those “match pasts” and flag waving under the hot sun as a child, I was never paid anything for my troubles, yes, a bag of rice I will happily collect. In fact if possible, they should add a bag of groundnut as well, which reminds me, whatever happened to those pyramids of groundnuts we used to have? Somewhere in the north? Was it not a tourist attraction at one point in time? I have always been meaning to go there, the pyramids of ground nut. However we did visit “obasanjo farms”, I remember it was hot and dusty, poultry; it was nothing to write home about. We all thought we would be given chickens on our way out. It never happened. Our school took us once on an excursion to a cement factory in Ughelli, but our bus broke down, so we never got to see how cement was made. I wonder if they would have shared free bags of cement? Those are days long gone, the children here don’t even know how palm oil is made and we eat banga soup everyday. It’s a pity, making palm oil is not hard, in fact I am considering using it now instead of Vaseline.

I saw so much as a child, as an adult, not so much. I remember as a teenager, my rebellious spirit had set in and I decided to go to Benin to see all those wonderful artifacts I kept seeing in art books. I found my way alright, the museum was not hard to find, unfortunately it was closed. An old man, sat sleeping on a bench by the gate. I asked him when the museum opened, he started laughing. He refused to co operate with me, in fact when I told him the particular artifacts I wanted to see, his laughter turned into hysteria. That was the end of my adventure. I never went back to that museum, which is a shame. There are so many things I would like to show layabout for example, whose existence is limited to sitting on fences waiting for free rice and ram. But how can I? Every suggestion I make here is met with laughter

The Thief

2008-01-07T19:00:00.000-08:00

Somebody stole my phone and I know who it is. It was stolen by that useless layabout that hangs about the area waiting to accost me with different false stories. The man definitely has an imagination. The stories he tells about this country, I am happy I am a thinking person, otherwise I would have believed him, but today is the day; I will definitely accuse him of being a thief. There he is……

Waffarian: Bros, if na play, make u stop am, where my phone?

Layabout: which phone?

Waffarian: Look, this one don pass play, where my phone?

Layabout: God has forgiven me

Waffarian: How dat one take affect price of garri for market? Where is my phone?

Layabout: Sista, if God don forgive me my sins, who are you to hold grudge against me?

This man must be mad. I have suspected it all along, the kind of stories he spins, the other day, he told me the police were arresting women in Lagos, then he said, the only national theatre we have in this country was being sold off and now he has become a thief. I am tempted to argue with him, but I have now realized that what I have suspected all along is true. He must be mad, how otherwise, can you explain the fact that he is trying to cover up his act by proclaiming that God has forgiven him? How does he know? Did he use my phone to call God? Even if he did that, I am sure God would have told him to return my phone first and then ask ME, for forgiveness, after all, it is my phone and it was my hard earned cash that was used to acquire that phone....

Layabout: Even self, sista, I forgive you

Waffarian: You forgive me? For what?

Layabout: For all this your wahala wey you dey cause here because of common phone, as God don forgive me, meself, I don forgive you.

I am in shock....there must be a way to help this man....is he aware of the level of madness he has just risen to? Oh Lord! Have mercy on your servant. I really wish I could help him, but time is against me, I have so many things to do and I really do not have the time or energy to convince this man of his madness. What could have gotten into him? I wonder if he really believes...ah! No! It can’t be...but come to think of it...I think he just did...did he just play the religion card? Can he be that smart? that cunning? Oh, I almost fell for it! I was attributing it all to madness, but no, this one is not mad, he is smart, but he does not know who he is dealing with, I won’t fall for the nonsense.

Waffarian: Look, if you like, make God, plus you self, forgive the whole humanity, na una know, I just know say, if I count to ten and my phone no appear this very minute, you go see real brimstone, 1, 2, 3....

Layabout: Abeg take your yeye phone jare! Your wahala too much self!

My people, did you just see that? That man was a smart one, he was not mad after all, even though he showed every indication of being one. I have to congratulate him though, for a minute there he almost got me. I thank God I am a thinking person, if not, I would have fallen for that nonsense, not only that, but my phone, would have been gone. This country is indeed amazing, but I am learning every day, I have to be very careful.

Layabout: Sista, I hope say you no vex too much sha

Waffarian: From now on, keep a ten meter distance when you talk to me, you hear?
The man is useless, spinner of tales and a thief, but don’t worry, I have learnt my lesson, from now on; he will be at a very safe distance.

Memories of excursions....

2008-01-07T08:33:00.001-08:00

It was unusually quiet in my neighborhood, our area people had gone for thanks giving at the nearby church, it was rare for us to have light for two days straight, hence, the thanks- giving service. They have taken the goat that was being fed for Christmas to be slaughtered. We have had light for two days, we must celebrate. It was unfortunate that as soon as they left, the light disappeared with them. I was contemplating how to break the news to them when I saw Layabout with a “Ghana must go”, coming towards me.
“Sista, na go be this oh”
“Where to?”
“ehhh, dem say dem dey share rice and ram for Abuja, so I wan carry my leg reach there small, Rukevwe say I fit follow am for “agofure motors”.
“What do you mean they are sharing rice and ram? You have started with your stories again, abi?”
“No oh, dem say, person go do just one round of boxing match, after that, na rice and ram”
I have never heard of such a thing. Sharing rice and ram after boxing matches? Is that possible? He must have got his facts wrong again, as usual. Rice and Ram indeed! I have never heard of any country sharing rice. Perhaps it was for Independence Day? Could it be that the government has decided to give every household a bag of rice? That seems more feasible to me. We all deserve bags of rice in this country, even if it is “ekpoma rice”, we all deserve it. I remember all those “match pasts” and flag waving under the hot sun as a child, I was never paid anything for my troubles, yes, a bag of rice I will happily collect. In fact if possible, they should add a bag of groundnut as well, which reminds me, whatever happened to those pyramids of groundnuts we used to have? Somewhere in the north? Was it not a tourist attraction at one point in time? I have always been meaning to go there, the pyramids of ground nut. However we did visit “obasanjo farms”, I remember it was hot and dusty, poultry; it was nothing to write home about. We all thought we would be given chickens on our way out. It never happened. Our school took us once on an excursion to a cement factory in Ughelli, but our bus broke down, so we never got to see how cement was made. I wonder if they would have shared free bags of cement? Those are days long gone, the children here don’t even know how palm oil is made and we eat banga soup everyday. It’s a pity, making palm oil is not hard, in fact I am considering using it now instead of Vaseline. I saw so much as a child, as an adult, not so much. I remember as a teenager, my rebellious spirit had set in and I decided to go to Benin to see all those wonderful artifacts I kept seeing in art books. I found my way alright, the museum was not hard to find, unfortunately it was closed. An old man, sat sleeping on a bench by the gate. I asked him when the museum opened, he started laughing. He refused to co operate with me, in fact when I told him the particular artifacts I wanted to see, his laughter turned into hysteria. That was the end of my adventure. I never went back to that museum, which is a shame. There are so many things I would like to show layabout for example, whose existence is limited to sitting on fences waiting for free rice and ram. But how can I? Every suggestion I make here is met with laughter.

Layabout

2008-01-07T08:28:00.001-08:00

Layabout: “sista, you don hear tory?”

Waffy : “Look, you dis man, if no be better thing, no dey disturb me, dis early morning oh!”

Layabout: “Dis country, dem too like woman matter! Dem no dey take eye see woman before dem begin chase them!”

Waffy: “Na wetin again?

Layabout: “ My sista, dem say, dem don change police work for Lagos oh! Dem say, from now onwards, police work na to dey chase woman, ah, no be small thing oh! Law, come dey now self! No be bad thing to chase ashawo na, but na only for police dem! “

Waffy: “ your tory no get head or tail, how dem go change police work to ashawo work? You sure say you hear the tory well?”

Layabout: “ Sista, even if na Ogborikoko grammer school I go, I know wetin police work be, na to dey catch thief dem, dem no suppose dey chase woman na! so from today onwards, Lagos police na “ashawo ltd”, chei! See groove!”

Well, let us look at the matter rationally, no need to jump to conclusions here, I am sure there is a reason for this sudden development. In fact, I am sure that this new decree must have come about for one or the following reasons:

1) All crimes and investigations into crimes have been solved, including “cold” cases.

2) All thieves for some unknown reason have all gone on holiday; after all, we in the height of the summer/holiday season or better still, perhaps they all migrated to our neighboring countries?

3) All the area boys have all enrolled for jamb and to catch up with the forlorn years spent by the roadsides, they are now studying and slaving away over text books and past jamb questions.

4) All roads have miraculously been repaired over night by Julius Berger and RCC and thus, traffic has been flowing smoothly in Lagos.

5) All the 419 boys have all confessed their sins and repented, solemnly swearing never to open a “yahoo mail” ever, in their lives.

6) All areas in Lagos now have street lights and London style cops patrolling the areas, thereby eliminating any “shady” movements.

7) All corrupt officials in the government have all been apprehended and locked up, thus releasing a huge number of police officers that had been working on the cases.

8) All hospitals have now been instructed to give free drugs to sick children thus eliminating any risk for desperate parents to resort to armed robberies.

9) All lecturers in the Universities were taken abroad for a free orientation seminar and on return, they all decided to stop accepting bribes from students which in turn reduced the crime rate in universities and campuses

10) There is really nothing at all for the police in Lagos to do, and as you know, “an idle mind is a devil’s workshop”, and so in order to keep our uniformed men and women sharp and ready for action, a steady flow of work had to be created.

Ah! What joy! I am especially leaning towards number “10”, that really makes sense! Make I enter my Okada dey go jare!

Waltzing through pain (2)

2008-01-07T08:23:00.000-08:00

Another adventure, it’s not as if the last adventure from Warri to Lagos was not enough, believe me, it was enough to last me for years, but my people, you know the situation in this country, one has to be able to face unexpected challenges. Thus, I had another opportunity to travel by road, this time to Warri.
It is 6’o clock in the morning and I am in high spirits, but………what is this? Is it raining? Oh Lord, rain in Lagos can only mean one thing: CHAOS. Not to worry, I know the drill now, cars in Nigeria all swim; they go against the law of nature so no problem.

8 o'clock

Lord have mercy, I am still on the way, the traffic is terrible, I cannot bear it, time to abort mission, really, the roads are too terrible, I ll soon start eating my fingers out of desperation, wait why are people still smiling? Do they not see what I see? Why is that guy still hawking in the rain? I really should stop and tell him about pneumonia...is that possible in Nigeria,to catch pneumonia? I should find out, ah ah! What is wrong with these people? Can’t they see we are all in the same boat here? Why are they blowing sirens and flogging cars? Where dem want make we shift go? Ah ah! Even a mad man can see that this is not a time for “sirens”, hissssssssss

9’o'clock

Let’s try “greener line” this time around, their park seems so busy....Good, there are seats to Lagos, very good, I and my fellow traveler (who on this occasion we shall name “aproko”) get seats in the middle. Now, let us see the characters of our fellow travelers. Behind me are two pastors, I shall name them Peter and Paul for easy identification, beside them, a thick market woman, on the last row, four business men, all on the way to Warri to sell or deliver products, I could not quite figure that out. Beside the driver, a young woman who has decided on this morning to kill us with the smell of “kessingsheen” in her hair. Let us call her “kessingsheen”, and beside her, an old gentle man. Now, to our driver, who I must say proved to be the lead character on this journey, I will call him “Koboko” head, (only because throughout the journey, I had to physically restrain myself from knocking his head with “koboko”).

And now, let the journey begin......

What is this ? A church person is going to start us off with prayers, good, one really needs prayers on these roads, in fact, he should do a serious scripture confession, I want prayer warriors, holy water, holy oil....oh, he’s about to start....hmmmmm, this man na wah oh, his prayers are serious, wait oh! Did he just say “flesh eating demons” ah! Abeg, this prayer don dey fear me, which one be flesh eating demon again? , honestly, this is too much, now he is praying against the “blood sucking demons” on the road. I need to talk to this young man, set him straight, the “blood sucking and flesh eating demon” is the road. He should not be fooled, really, but no problem, he is doing this for free, out of the goodness of his heart…………ah, is he asking for money? I thought the prayer was for free? Anyway, here is 20 naira, after all that “flesh eating and bloodsucking” talk; I now doubt the capability of the young man.

4hours later
Ah, sleep is good in times like this, I am sure we are almost at Benin now, beautiful.....ehhhhhhh, No way! Somebody shoot me, excuse me. Where are we?

Koboko head: Na ore road we dey.

What do you mean Ore road? I can recognize Ore road when I see it, this is not Ore road, what is wrong with this man?

“Driver, this no be Ore road oh! No be this road we dey pass those days wey I dey go secondary school”,

Koboko head: “Ehn, this one na “old ore road” n aim we dey use now. “
Ah! I don’t get it, why will anyone choose to use a muddy, bumpy “forest trail” when we have a federal road that is tarred? This whole thing is not making sense to me.

“But driver, you mean the “real” road is worse than this road that has never been tarred?”

The man is not even responding anymore, he is now haggling with the village youths who have now used this opportunity to put their own “homemade” gate, consisting of a huge log of wood, across the muddy road. I am told this is a “toll gate”. I am speechless, I have nothing to say, the driver is busy haggling with the self appointed toll gate workers while I observe the thriving business (hawking) going on all around me.

2hours later

We have not left “old ore road”, we are now at the second “toll gate”, the workers here are younger, restless and more determined that the first toll gate workers.

1 hour later
We have still not left “old ore road”, we are now at the third “toll gate”, the workers here are older, I do not think they are part of the village youth association, I think they are the touts of the village. Peter and Paul draw my attention to the smell of “igbo” all around us. This toll gate seems to be the “bubbling” one, the guys are in high spirits, drinking and smoking, they seem to be having a good time, at the expense of Koboko head that has now launched into a tirade of curses in Yoruba.

Koboko head has proven himself to be a mad man. I think he escaped from Yaba, with all the pot holes and eroded craters, he drives as if he is on one of the best highways in the world. His talent is wasted on old ore road, he should be on formula one, I am sure he will give Schumacher a run for his money. I have pleaded, begged, admonished but Koboko head is bent on delivering us all personally to the flesh eating and bloodsucking demons. The rest travelers seem to be all scared of koboko head. Peter and Paul are quiet apart from mumbling “Jehovah jireh” and “elshadah” after every single morsel of food chewed and swallowed. Aproko is sleeping apart from raising up her head once in a while and saying “this driver!” or complaining about the chewing sounds of peter and Paul. The travelers on the last row are conversing in Yoruba with the market woman. Kessingsheen is bent on distracting koboko head with her little flirty looks, I am very worried about this, the last thing koboko head needs, is to be distracted. I’ll be watching this development closely. The old gentle man, I have no idea what he is doing, he must be in pain though, because the smell from kessingsheen’s hair must be pure torture.

4 o’clock

My people, that I am still alive today to write this story is a miracle. I have come to the conclusion that “driving from Lagos to Warri” should be added as a course in our driving schools (by the way, do people still learn how to drive?). All drivers of the “lines”, edo, delta, agofure, greener, edosa, and others too many to mention, all have a special language which we mere mortals cannot decipher. For example

Koboko head: Straight dey good?

Other driver: Ehn, straight good, use other side but na straight u go use enter.
(if anybody can make head or tail of this conversation, do not hesitate to write me)

At this point in time, we are now on a road called “paradise” road. As the old gentleman remarked, that name should be renamed “hell”, there was nothing remotely heavenly about that road. It was pure chaos. So much so, that a civilian who was immediately named “general”, took it upon himself to co ordinate traffic. The general did a good job but much to my astonishment there were about 6 policemen not less than 500 meters away, on the road. I am sure they had no idea about the chaos that was transpiring just down the road, I was going to inform them but then I saw the inscription on their vehicle, it said, “Operation clean”. They must have been on a high profile secret mission hence; they could not afford to be distracted. That must be the only explanation, I am certain of it.

6 o’clock.

We have all been on the road for about 10 hours. It is a shame. We are in Benin, stuck in traffic. Koboko head has not stopped once throughout the journey, instead the men occasionally hop down when in traffic, ease themselves by the roadside and hop back on. I brought the attention of the driver to the blatant ignorance of the women in the bus but the driver could see nothing wrong in women “hoping” as the men do. According to him, it was perfectly reasonable for a woman to hop down, go to the side of the road in the midst of igbo smoking self appointed toll gate workers, do her business and hop back on. None of the other travelers seemed especially concerned, apart from Peter and Paul who nodded sympathetically as I went on a rant about “discrimination”.

7:30

We are on the outskirts of Warri, for once ia m speechless my thought warped up in banga soup and eba which I knew must surely be waiting for him at home. Suddenly, we are stopped by the police. The policeman is bent on making trouble, koboko head is already frustrated and angry and soon a fight is about to start. I can not believe it, I am almost home, I have to get home, I aks the policeman to forget about kobokohead and let us through. All of a sudden the last row comes alive, there are talks of us not giving the police man anything, “even if it means we stay here until 10”. Now, I understand them, yes, a revolution in this country is called for but now on the outskirts of Warri, not after barely surviving kobokohead’s madness, the flesh eating and bloodsucking demons, not after surviving old ore and paradise hotel. Not after all that. One has to learn to pick on’s battles, and as waffi, it would be irresponsible of me not to mention the dangers of entering Warri at night. The last row is not convinced, they tell me there are from “Lagos”, and are not really convinced about my warnings. Luckily, the policeman sees some sense and allows us to go. As the driver pulls into the car park, he informs us that one of their drivers was killed right in front of the park, about the same time, 7:30.