...On Friendship (Wesley College Ibadan)

Picture taken with Nasir Halimat at our 2010 reunion  It's the only picture related to memories of Wesley I have in digital format.

"...You'll find it in the deepest friendships. The kind you'll cherish all your life..."

I am playing my Westlife collection as I drift off to sleep tonight. As the music wafts around my room, I am transported ten years back - to beautiful times in Wesley College Ibadan; when life was simpler and cares were fewer.

I listened to a lot of Westlife growing up. What makes a man. Evergreen. Flying without wings. My love. Soledad. Not the words. World of our own. Uptown girl. Fragile heart. Written in the stars. Mandy. I don't wanna fight no more. Walk away.

It hits me tonight how much influence Westlife had on me. It's ten-plus years, but I still "take moments and make them last forever"; I still "forget what we were fighting for"; and I still notice, compliment, and appreciate "every little thing" my friends do.

This one is for all the great friends I made in Wesley. It's for the great relationships we forged. It's for the fun we had, the joy we shared, the seasons in the sun. It's for the one we lost, who now lives only in our memories. Tonight, across the miles, it's funny how far you all are - but how near you seem to be.

Tonight, I miss you. I hope you all dance.

Happy Birthday - Mosimiloluwa

I once dumped the dirtiest and 'stinkiest' sock I could find in a cup of tea, and smiled wickedly as my victim drank it up minutes after. I was an impish eight year old, and the victim was my sister! When she reads this today, she'll be finding out for the first time.

My mother says Simi could make me cry when we were much younger by threatening to beat my wife - never mind that I neither had a wife nor knew what to do with one. I think my mother exaggerates when she says this - but who knows?

What I know is she would often cry for me when I struggled with severe malaria as a young child, she shared her food with me in Primary School, and she was always incredibly loyal to me - except her own interests were at stake.

It's amazing how much she's grown, how far we've come; from childhood memories to adult dreams... When she's not talking about wanting to go into politics, she's droning on and on about Africa; that from the little girl we once chased around the house before she'd agree to bathe and go to school.

I couldn't have asked for a better sister, and I'm happy to see her grow and come into her own.

Happy Birthday, Mosimiloluwa.

To Nigeria, Our Dear Own Native Land...

I woke up today much earlier than I usually do on work-free days. I find it difficult to sleep when I am excited. I am excited this morning; much more than I was when I found out Muhammadu Buhari had won the Presidential elections on March 31.

I am not under any illusions. I do not expect any magic from Buhari and the APC-led government over the next four years. In fact, I know there will be missteps here and there and there will be many things they will do that we will think they ought to do differently. These are challenging times for our country, and a lot of work needs be done to set Nigeria on the right path again.

A billboard I saw during the campaign season rightly sums up my thinking about the next four years. I do not have a picture, but I remember the quote: “Vote for good governance, not good luck”. I have many hopes and my fair share of expectations from Buhari and Osinbajo – but I am confident of one thing: “Nigeria gets off auto-pilot this morning”.

"I have supported Buhari since 2011 because I believe he will combat corruption, re-unite Nigeria, appoint competent aides and Ministers versus rent-seekers, create an enabling environment for our economy and institutions to flourish, and restore our pride before Africa and the world. I now add ‘defeat Boko Haram’ to that list." - me in an earlier post.

President Goodluck Jonathan has my thanks, and the gratitude of many other Nigerians. He could have made things a lot more difficult for Nigeria by contesting the election results, but he chose the honorable path and conceded defeat. History will be kinder to him than many of us think. I do not believe anyone deserves an award for doing the minimum expected of them – and the call by some for a Noble Peace prize is indicative of how low we have historically set the bar for our leaders.

A last word for my friends and a few social commentators earnestly expecting Buhari to fail, so they can grandstand and say they were right all along. It’s our fatherland – not Buhari’s private enterprise. Should he fail, we ALL suffer for it – regardless of tribe, religion, or party inclination. We have proven at the last elections that the office of the citizen is one that must be respected – and we must work together to build the Nigeria of our dreams.

I look forward to four years of growth and prosperity, of security, of institutions that actually work, of increased respect on the continent and the globe, and of increased citizen participation in government.

Grab your glasses, and let’s drink a toast – to Nigeria, our own dear native land.

Thoughts on Decongesting Lagos...

When Chxta Bee identified "decongesting Lagos" as one of the priorities for the incoming Federal and State Governments, I glanced at it casually and moved on. However, I have returned to an earlier post I shared on this subject after experiencing ONE day of Island-Mainland traffic this evening.

In addition to the solutions I proffered in my post of July 2014, I would now like to add that the most sustainable way to "decongest" Lagos is for the other States to attract more businesses and support them to operate profitably and sustainably. In addition to slowing the population drain to Lagos in search of greener pastures, this will develop their economies, grow State government revenue, and grow employment numbers in the formal and informal sectors.

The current model wherein many young Nigerians from across the country (including yours truly) relocate to Lagos because it offers better opportunities is not sustainable over the long run. At this rate, in only a few years - it will be nearly impossible to get anywhere on time in Lagos.

PS: It took me 4 hours to get home from Lekki Phase 1 (and 2 hours to get there in the morning). Some friends who work on the Island (and live on the Mainland) confirm they spend an average of 4 hours a day commuting to and from work. That is 20 hours a work-week, 80 hours a month, and 960 hours (40 days) a year spent in Lagos traffic!

Please Donate to the Nepal Earthquake Response

I find it very difficult to ask people (on Facebook and offline) to give to supposedly faraway causes like this, fully aware that we face our own fair of issues at home that require our giving and action.

So, I'll ask you instead to spare a thought - and maybe a prayer - for the people of Nepal, many of whom have had their lives upended by an earthquake.

And if you can, please give too. For every $ you donate, various corporations including Facebook will match your donation, such that your $1 will become $30 on average.

We are the world.

A Piece for Mama -- Happy Birthday!

At a funeral for a friend’s father a few months ago, I couldn’t hold back tears at the nice epitaphs in the program. I wished he could read the nice things his progeny had written about him, and hoped they’d told him those sweet things when he was alive. I decided that day to frequently write about my parents while they’re still here to read.

This one is for my mother, who is a year older today. If you cannot read it all, please skip through to the end and please leave a comment. I’ll print them all out, and have a ball reading them to her this weekend.

*****

Beautiful is your name;
Wonderful is what you are to me;
It's you I see in my dreams;
Everyday and I pray for you;
Queen of my life;
You're so beautiful mama;
You're beautiful;

Emi n wa mama kan;
Ta lori yeye yen;
Mama mi o roju ri;
And that's why I'm loving you.

*****

I returned home from junior secondary school one day in a rage. My schoolbag had fallen apart the previous day, and left with no option – I carried my books to school in my mother’s handbag. The humiliation was epic! I was taunted everywhere I turned. Two classmates walked behind me as I went home, teasing me as we went. I dashed into our house, murderous, looking for a knife; and ran into my mother. A lecture about murder quickly turned into a discussion about living within your means and ended with us reading from The Richest Man in Babylon. I have since forgotten the students who made me feel so miserable, but the lessons from that discussion will stay with me forever.

On the Xenophobic Attacks in South Africa...

News media is rife with reports of Nigerians and other African immigrants killed in xenophobic attacks in South Africa. The recent outbreak of violence follows comments by Zulu King Zwelithini that foreigners should leave because they are taking jobs from citizens. Other citizens have expanded this by stating immigrants are undermining locally owned businesses. The pictures and videos are horrifying, showing disgruntled citizens driven by an entitlement mentality.

NANS has threatened reprisal attacks and some have called for boycotts of South African owned businesses. Neither course of action is advisable. In this context, boycotts will not achieve anything we cannot more quickly achieve via diplomacy.  They also have the unintended consequence of harming our economy, as these companies employ thousands of Nigerians and pay millions in taxes. Secondly, harming innocent South Africans living in Nigeria is unjust, signals we are no better than those whose actions we condemn, and may lead to an escalation in the violence.

The Nigerian High Commission will begin evacuating Nigerians interested in returning to Nigeria from today. This is a good start, as we must ensure their safety above all. We must do more for them, however. We must communicate clearly to the South African government that we will no longer treat attacks on our citizens and business interests lightly, and we must pressure them into arranging commensurate compensation for businesses destroyed during these attacks.

Bring Back Our Girls --- Please!

Idowu Adebote, my maternal uncle, went missing over 25 years ago. I never met him, and all I know about him is from stories my Mother has told. I am told he was strong, handsome, and wilful. I am also told he walked off into the sunset one evening, never to return. It is 25 years now, and the family continues to search. It is 25 years now, and they still investigate reports of his sighting with all seriousness.

I have two siblings, a sister and a brother, and they mean the world to me. As a first-born “big brother”, I feel extremely responsible for them. We share a common history, forged in shared memories of joys and pains. They have known me longer than most people, and are most likely to stick with me till the end – regardless of what the future holds. I cannot imagine how it would feel if one of them went missing.

You Are Not Your CGPA (Some Advice to Undergrads and Fresh Grads)...

For five years, I have worked with friends to provide pre-employment training in OAU through Beyond Ife. We have gotten amazing results, ranging from my job to the graduates who tell us how Beyond Ife helped chart their course after school. As the sixth season approaches, I wish we could reach more people – so I have decided to share some thoughts publicly.

Here goes.

Care about your CGPA. It may sound unfair, but the world needs a system to classify graduates. Recruiters want to test candidates who are more likely to succeed, so they look to past performance to indicate potential. Business schools and competitive Masters Programs consider CGPA when deciding who to admit, preferring students who have demonstrated ability to manage rigorous academic demands. If you still can, improve your CGPA. Work hard at the courses you dislike. Get the best grades possible. It pays off eventually.

Don’t care about your CGPA. If your graduating CGPA is deemed undesirable by the world of work, disregard it. Your CGPA does not define you. A poor CGPA forces you to creatively consider options outside mainstream employment. You could become specialized at something, seek further education or certifications, or start a small business. Possibilities abound! For example, some of the best and highest earning developers I know graduated at or near the bottom of their class. Think! Create something!

Little Drummer Boy

I am a Christmas junkie. I love, love, love the holiday season. I have loved Christmas for as long as I can remember – even when we did not have new clothes or Christmas chicken. My eyes tear up at the opening bars of White Christmas. Few songs get me moving like Feliz Navidad. But my all-time favourite – is - *drum roll* Little Drummer Boy!

Little Baby, pa rum pum pum pum;
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum;
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum;
That's fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum;
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum;
Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum;
On my drum?

The remixed version of Little Drummer Boy as performed by the Daystar Choir in 2013 took my love for the song to entirely new levels. Admittedly, it does not inspire me like Immortality, This is Our God, or Savior King – but it reminds me of a warm childhood shared with amazing siblings and devoted parents.

One would expect me to play it more often, given the plethora of warm feelings it engenders, but no – until recently, I only played Little Drummer Boy in December. In my previous definition of normal, Little Drummer Boy was a Christmas song, reserved only for the holiday season. I would sometimes play it infrequently, but never as part of a regular playlist during the year.

Until the accident.

I suddenly realized, screw waiting for December. How are you even sure you’ll be here then?

Little Drummer Boy is just a song, but how often do we act likewise with our deepest desires and dreams? We awaken in the mornings and work hard through the days, postponing the fulfillment of our desires until later. We let people tell us when it is fine to pursue our dreams. We believe the half-truth that we can start bigger, if only we wait a little longer.

These days, I often play Little Drummer Boy in my car – on the ride to and from work, church, and everywhere else. Everyone is surprised the first time they hear it, and a few people sometimes say – “But it is only March”! But inevitably, they join in – and we have a merry singalong.

Why wait until Christmas to be happy?

Life is short. Live.

PS: I couldn't find the Daystar version online, but I'll let you watch my copy of the DVD if you drop by someday *wink wink*