#VoteTeamRed

10 Jul

Well, unlike some politicians, I have no bags of rice and corn to give. But I promise you a very high res. pix of two bags of rice and corn when you vote and help spread the word about Team Red.
Thing is, there’s a music competition at Noah’s Ark, the advertising agency where I hustle for a living. We were asked to write and record a song.
My group members and I recorded a song titled “Ashes”. We are counting on your votes to win.
Please, could you support a hustling copywriter like moi, and Like Team Red’s song by clicking this link?

https:/www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=786315511398953&set=vb.275836209113555&type=2&theater

Remember, don’t guard your votes until the winner is announced. Like and share with your friends and enemies until they #VoteTeamRed.

Imagine all the things you can do with those high res. pix of bags of rice and corn!
Thanks! 😉

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Nigeria for Dummies

2 Feb

Imagine the helluva palaver that would have ensued if Flora Shaw -Lord Luggard’s babe-turned-wife – had not had that epiphany that led to “Nigeria.”
What would we have called ourselves? What region would our name come from?
You would hear that favourite Nigerian word – AGENDA- endlessly.
“It’s a Northern Agenda!”
“They think we don’t know this is a Southern Agenda?”
“Eastern Agenda!”
“This is a Western Agenda, jor!”
Vested interests, Cabals, Babas and Ogas at the top would clash.
That’s not all.

On cue. Stage right!
Enter our Ghana-must-go-esque salaried lawmakers. These aliens would
literally crack each other’s brains for a name, which would land some
of them in foreign hospitals with ginormous Forex acting as their
motivational entourage. This Forex motivation might make Nigerians in the insignificant others’ club wonder if they should not start breaking heads for a living.

Other lawmakers whose heads seem intact, or not, would go a-visiting their
broken-headed colleagues.
It is part of their legislative duties.
They are serving their country, after all.
It is all for a greater good.
It is that simple.

Forget simple. Simplicity is difficult in these parts. If things were
that simple, the Petroleum Industry Bill would have been passed eons
ago.

Thank God for Ms Shaw, though. She prevented a lot of cracked
heads. She also saved the country hundreds of millions that would
have been used to replace dozens of broken chairs. One wonders why,
after a whole century, Nigeria hasn’t been renamed after her. She did
name us, after all.

In our spirit of renaming, wouldn’t it be totally understandable if
Valentine’s Day was renamed “Goodluck Jonathan Day”?

The 2015 Presidential elections will hold on February 14, no? No,
there is no hidden agenda at play; the date was not chosen in the hope
that anti-PDP Nigerians would suddenly fall in love with GEJ,
muttering “I love GEJ,” like a mantra, while thumb-printing their
ballot papers. The date was not chosen so people would be seeing GEJ in their lovers’ eyes when it is time to do the needful on Valentine
night.
Far from it.
But, even if it were, it wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it? Haba, the guy is a PhD holder, who is also surrounded by other PhD holders like Reuben Abati, whose theatre background makes him an authority in PDP’s convention of suspension of disbelief.
Maybe that is why Abati expects us to always suspend our disbelief
whenever his oga is concerned. We are supposed to play along. We are
supposed to understand whenever he explains GEJ’s actions, the same
way Squealer explains and defends every action Napoleon makes in George Orwell’s Animal Farm.
That’s his job, we understand.
We love our PhD holders and Ivy Leaguers in office who want us to dumb
down our brains whenever matters of state come calling. We should not be complaining about corruption, we should not be asking questions,
like why those grotesquely corrupt ministers and office holders haven’t been sacked.
It is not fair that people are always criticising GEJ.
Don’t Nigerians know that constant criticism distracts him from his
duties? You dare distract a whole president? Bad! Imagine what would
happen if the immunity clause was removed – the Nigerian government
would cease to function. You think it’s easy? Uneasy lies the head
that wears the derby hat.
Nigerians should unite and become understanding spectators in our
unique theatre of the absurd. We should clap at the end of every
scene, whether it makes sense or not.

No booing aloud, it’s bad for morale.

Maybe, the endless boos are coming because many members of the
Nigerian audience are not educated enough in these things. Maybe that
is why they don’t understand when to clap or boo.

What do insignificant Nigerians know about running a country? Always
complaining, never applauding.

Of course, this has absolutely nothing to do with the decrepit
educational system that can make students sell their kidneys to pay
school fees, only to be thrown out of their ramshackle lecture halls that can’t boast of WiFi.

The undereducated students are supposed to be of good cheer and clap at the whole crap, the same way everybody was supposed to nod their heads and say, “Way to go, GEJ!” when he signed the repressive Anti-Gay Bill into law, a law that just might shoot up our power
generating capacity to 40,000MW.

Hallelujah!

Not supporting the law amounts to condemnation. You know how much GEJ hates condemnation.
In case you’ve been in PHCN’s darkness, ask El-Rufai. Or Governor
Amaechi; the police is their friend.

You Nigerians whining about how the electricity supply has worsened,
especially since PHCN became privatised, are unpatriotic and
unappreciative cry-babies. Electricity supply couldn’t be better; it’s
just that your bulbs and electrical appliances refuse to come on, a
lot. Whose fault is that? Yours. And for that, you’ll pay, twice as
much.

If you can’t handle it, go dance away your sorrows in a disco club. Or
defect. Or crash the National Conference and make a cool N9 Million.

Okay, maybe the title of this post shouldn’t have been “Nigeria for Dummies.”

The Goose and The Gander

23 Aug

What’s good for the goose has stopped being good for the gander. In fact, what’s bad for the goose does not even come close to being good enough for the gander, especially when it comes to those oh-so-lovey-dovey things call relationships.

Being the “weaker vessel,” the goose exhibits her weakness.  She dares not show her strength. She is just a goose. She has to act like the virtuous and pristine goose that she is. Her utmost goal is to please the gander; there’s his ego to consider.  Like she has been taught in a finishing school somewhere, she has to feel used when, having relinquished their lip-smacking intercourse, fine boy gander tells her that he’s had it with her; that it’s probably best they parted ways in a civilized manner.

So what happens to fine girl goose afterwards? She starts feeling “used” by fine boy gander. She wails uncontrollably, stops eating, loses weight and sleep over fine boy gander. She stops living. Her friends are worried. They visit her. She confides in them, singing the gospel of “He used me! How could he?!” the whole time. “How?” her friends ask. “How can he sleep with me and say he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? He used me!” she replies.

Her friends tell her that she shouldn’t get all cried out over fine boy gander. They urge her to forget him and move on with her life. But the words “He used me” has been so etched in her consciousness that she begins to have the dignity of a used, useless rag.

“I gave myself to him! He slept with me and dumped me” becomes her mantra.

It’s a wonder that fine boy gander never felt used when he and goose embarked on that orgasmic journey to cloud nine. For him, it was fun while it lasted. So fine boy gander struts about, regaling his friends with every tiny, winy detail of the time he spent with his ex-goose. He enjoys every minute of the kissing-and-telling.

For the goose, it’s a case of “He used me!” Why? Because she is the goose, that’s why. Why ask why? She is useable. She is fungible. She has been programmed from birth to be user-friendly to the male species. She must never be loose. She must never lose her virtue. She must always remember what Mama Goose taught her. She must always wear the garment of  “Take home to mama.” She has to always feel ashamed when things happen. Because she is the female, right?

Whoever heard of a gander going over town, crying that his goose “used” him after they got jiggy with it? It is very common to hear a member of the geese folk say to goose, “He will use you and dump you,” making the goose feel that she is obligated to feel used after gander is done with her. Well, that’s to assume that the goose did all the giving, and got nothing in return from the gander. So when the relationship ends badly, she feels used. Then comes self-pity.

Self-pity helps no goose. It never has, and never will.

Some ganders were having lunch in a restaurant one day, and the issue of the “user and the used” came up. One drunken opened up, telling all present how his ex-goosefriend walked with her head bowed when she saw he and his buddies gisting at a street corner. One of buddies had the balls to whistle at her! Bereft of her dignity, the goose ran.

That’s the attitude of the goose. She ends up giving the gander a feel-good feeling. She makes him feel like the sun rises and sets in his eyes – even after an ugly breakup.

But the goose is not the weakling she’s been made to believe. She is not the insignificant other.  It’s high time that invisible chain around her neck, wrists and feet came off.  Where is it written in stone that the goose has to cower and hide in shame when the gander starts bragging about his hymenal conquests?

These things happen because the goose has given the gander too much power. She should get that power back. With head held high, confident and proud, she should say, “Hey, you didn’t use me; I used you, and I enjoyed every bit of it!”

What’s good for the goose should be good for the gander. And so shall it be, forever and a day.

The “Amen” is silent.

This article was first published in happenings9ja.com

Damn the world, buy your own damn ring

12 Jul

There comes a time in a woman’s life when she’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. That time when people start getting worried on her behalf because no guy has popped the big question yet; that time when people begin to hear the raging tick-tock of her biological clock; that time when people wonder how long they would have to wait before they would adorn another aso ebi.

When that time comes, a woman should explore her options: She could show that she cares about what people say by listening to their advice on how to catch a man; she could also attend the deliverance services they recommend to rid herself of demonic spirit of spinsterhood preventing her from becoming someone’s wife. Doesn’t she know that a woman can never be complete until she is married?

She could also listen to the profound words of her advisers that that she is too uppity and choosy when it comes to guys. Shouldn’t she consider lowering her standards every once in a while? She is even too vocal; must she always talk? Must she always prove a point? Why can’t she be submissive? Guys love ’em submissive. Even the Bible, which calls her a weaker vessel, says she should be submissive. In fact, submissive should be her middle name. Or has she forgotten that she is ‘only’ a woman? She shouldn’t always show how smart she is; some guys find it intimidating. And of course, she should always remember to be a good girl. Doesn’t she know that bad girls don’t get married? If she cannot be good, she could always pretend to be, or she would remain single for the rest of her life.

If she listens to these profound words of wisdom, a responsible man just might show up and sweep her off her feet. Or so she would be told.

But on the flip side, a woman could show just how much she values herself by paying no mind to words flying left, right and center, like arrows meant to put her out of her spinsterly misery. If she doesn’t want to ignore those words for herself, she should do it to keep her sanity. Listening to too many voices is as good as having schizophrenia.

This is not saying she should totally disregard the kind words of people concerning her personal life; after all, some of these people genuinely have her best interest at heart; others even know what’s best for her, and most importantly, she should never forget that some people somehow find some kind of joy and inner peace in minding other people’s business.

A woman should grab the bull by the balls (oops, horn!) and live her life to the max – go places, see people, do crazy things and create memories worth cherishing forever and a day. Since when did being single become a disease far worse than the plague? Life is not about being a Mrs. so and so, is it?

Oh, she is getting old? So what? Her biological clock is ticking? So what? Many women have believed the lie that only marriages can make them complete. How many men share that thought? How many men have sleepless nights as a result of their unmarried state? How many men go through mental and even physical torture crying themselves to sleep because they don’t have a wife of their own? Isn’t it funny that many guys are scared of losing their independence to marriage, while many women can’t wait to lose theirs?

If a guy is bent on eluding the marriage epiphany; if he sees no need to go on one knee and pop the big question (do Nigerian men even do that?), then a single woman should as well enjoy her life to the fullest. So what if a guy hasn’t put a ring on her finger? She should say ‘To hell with it’ and buy her own ring just for the fun of it.

Footnote: This article was first published in happenings9ja.com