Bumped into old classmates? Shocking changes you likely came across

June 14, 2017June 14, 2017 ~ Chibugo ~ 3 Comments

Whether it was secondary school or university, your last few days at school were likely filled with bittersweet partings and promises to keep in touch(which you probably broke after less than a year). At that point in time, you probably couldn’t imagine a life outside your current circle of friends. But, as time went on and everyone pursued their passions, life got in the way and your communication became limited to liking their pictures on Facebook. Pictures in which all was well with the world and they were leading perfect, manicured lives.

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Perhaps they are. Perhaps they’re not. But I can tell you certainly that bumping into an old classmate whether from secondary school or university, is bound to hold a number of surprises for you. Key phrase : bumping into.

We know all about reunions, but everyone gets a period of time to prepare for that. Most want to impress, to show how far they’ve come. Not a bad thing, especially if you were seen as not likely to succeed back in the school days. In preparation, you could always lose a few kilograms, get an expensive weave installed, go for a facial and a full makeover, or get a shiny car to make everyone green with envy.

But it’s a different ball game when you bump into each other. You are unprepared, physically, mentally and socially, except you had a genuine friendship with the person, or you really are just that kind of happy, open person. Changes are mostly physical (of course, duh) and career/success wise, and they come in an expectation-versus-reality kind of comparison that leaves us either mightily awed or totally disappointed.

I couldn’t end this article without sharing a few experiences.

Physical.

It adds up: the years and the weight. A moderate number of us added a few kilograms here and there(secondary school classmates) which didn’t look bad in most cases, in fact they mostly look really good, while almost all my uni classmates have added obvious weight. I once bumped into an old uni classmate who had become so big(wide, more like), that for a moment I was actually scared of saying hi to him. Seeing as skinniness is not particularly a desired trait in our society, I do not say this proudly but I am one of the few who remained almost the same. 53kg in my final year of secondary school, 55kg close to a decade after. Oh well.

Some become unrecognizable. I once saw a lady and wondered at how she looked so eerily familiar. By the time I finally realized who she was, I was shocked as well as curiously awed. She had gone from Viola Davis to Halle Berry within 7 years(at the time) and not in a very attractive way. I have always held a strange curiosity and awe for people who effect drastic changes in their physical appearance without feeling guilty or weird about it all. Of course it was normal for everyone to go one to three shades lighter, being that we were now mostly in control of our lives and hardly had reason to walk under the scorching 3 o’clock sun. We all know that Lagos sun has no pity on day students, especially if you walk to and from school everyday. But doing a skin tone overhaul a la Michael Jackson? Left me gobsmacked. So don’t feel bad if you actually don’t recognize an old classmate. I’ve been told this is the least astonishing thing to see. Imagine realizing that a former classmate had become a criminal. Yeah, I thought so too. (I actually came up with the criminal part).

Expectation versus reality

Most didn’t turn out to be what everyone had expected. This made me realize that school smart doesn’t equate world success.

Some who we had expected some kind of high flying career from, those who had that lethal beauty+brains combo, ended up settling really comfortably into motherhood and family life.

Some who weren’t so pretty and were mostly invisible and shy, somehow went to the market and bought confidence. Yep. I’ve got one foot in this group.

Some who were super smart and who came from families with good pedigree to boot, ended up doing just, well, average.

Some who had been break-neck beautiful turned out really quite average too. Sometimes even below average. Can’t really understand this one.

Some got wild. I mean from religious or average moral young man/woman to promiscuous living-nightclub hopping-body piercing-tattooed-smoking and drinking-half naked pictures on social media-human. Shame.

Some actually turned out as expected and did very well for themselves in their fields. Vera Chika Ani, who always got almost all the prizes on prize giving day, went on to bag a first class in engineering and is currently working comfortably somewhere in the United States. Ebunoluwa Taiwo, smart and quick witted, is currently a doctor. Modupe Ola, which most Nigerians know by her stage name of Mo ‘Cheddah, began showing what she would be from those days. Even being in a Catholic all-girls school didn’t stop that. There are many others, these are just a few.

Many, no, A LOT of us ended up practicing in fields as different from what we studied as Biology is different from Economics. Who would have thought?

It helps to know that, you are not alone in the struggle to be something in life. Seeing old classmates makes you realize how far you’ve come, or how far you’ve yet to go. But, never be condescending or overly awed, because in the race of life, overtaking is allowed. The way you look at someone who hasn’t quite achieved as much as you, is the way someone(in your set) higher in accomplishments than you are, will probably look at you. Over and above all, remember that your biggest competition is YOURSELF.

Like I always say, life is one well-spiced pot of jollof rice.

Feel free to share your own experiences. I can’t wait to hear them all!

Sincerely, Chibugo.

Chibugo

The world is love starved: the case of Dr Orji

March 23, 2017March 24, 2017 ~ Chibugo ~ 2 Comments

I have often wondered what goes through the mind of suicidal persons just before they took their lives. Just how bad could it have been that taking a life you didn’t give yourself became a better option?

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The thing about depression is, it creeps up on one very stealthily. It is a situation sometimes beyond one’s control, therefore it becomes the function of those who are around the sufferer to make him or her feel better and take steps to come out of it.

How good a neighbour have you(and I) been? When you ask, how are you doing? Do you listen to the answer, both spoken and unspoken? The case of Dr Orji who recently jumped off the third mainland bridge made me exceptionally sad. Medicine is a field in which people are trained to solve the health problems of mankind. Doctors are seen as one of the most important threads in the fabric of every healthy society. Why then are the statistics of suicide among doctors worldwide unnecessarily high? I used to think Nigeria was an exception; enter the peculiar case of Dr Orji.

He had a car. Most Nigerians will assume he was doing well. I mean, in the present state of the country how many can afford a Nissan SUV? It is difficult to think that the people we look up to, bare our most intimate problems to, and respect profoundly, have the same ills as we do. Unfortunately, they do. We are all human first, before anything else. Sometimes, one call or message is all it takes to make the difference.

I was once in a peculiar situation that involved matters of the heart. Depression had set in and even though suicidal thoughts aren’t my thing, that was perhaps the lowest I had ever felt in my life. The worst part? I live with my family but no one knew what was up. I shed all my tears in private and tried to put up a brave face outside. How I got through it? The very moment I realized my “situation”, I fell into a state of psychological trauma and I don’t know what would have come next if not for the message. The message came from my best friend all the way from another part of the country. This, dear reader, is how I pulled through. It was a simple “Hello dearie. Kedu? It’s been a while. How are you?” from her on BBM that pulled me back into the light. Having a shoulder to lean on that period, is something I will be eternally grateful for. She followed up, till I got back on my feet. FYI, my family still has no clue. This taught me empathy. I realized you could live with someone and not know how that person felt or what that person was going through.

Also, for anyone who has ever been in a bad situation, so bad that he thought it would never get better, I have a story to tell you, though I cannot take credit for it. A certain king asked his wise men to create for him, something that would remind him whenever he was extremely happy, that the happiness of this world was ephemeral, and when he was down-in-the-dumps sad, would remind him that the sun would shine again. They were a bunch of very wise men, and so when they were through with their brainstorming, they returned to him with something: a ring. On the ring was engraved a short declaration :”This Too Shall Pass”. Believe me, it shall pass. What you cried so despondently about yesterday, may eventually become something to teach you invaluable life lessons that will take you to your Eldorado.

My point? Empathy is never too much. Goodness knows the world needs it. True, we get our fair share of kicks and blows from life, but indeed,, life isn’t worth living if we cannot be of help to others. That’s why we’re here in the first place. It is easy to get caught up in daily routine and not notice what’s happening to someone we see everyday.

Listen. Please, listen. Even if you don’t feel anything amiss, reach out occasionally.

If you’re down, please, suicide is never the answer. Reach out. There is still love.

Sincerely, Chibugo.

Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being. – Albert Schweitzer

Please share!

Chibugo

I believe that one day, Nigeria shall rise again: the #9jagobeta campaign

February 12, 2017February 12, 2017 ~ Chibugo ~ 8 Comments

At a time like this, it will take a diehard optimist to still believe that Nigeria will one day heave a sigh of relief from the heavy plagues that besiege her by the day.

Polongo media came up with the #9jagobeta campaign and I was only happy to be asked to do a piece on what this movement stands for. Read on.

#9jagobeta is a state of the mind.

The real change Nigeria needs, which should have been wrought a long time ago, is a mentality change of the average Nigerian. Nigeria as a nation is after all, made up of Nigerians as people. There is the first problem: we move as though a hopeless people; as though there is no light at the end of the tunnel, or any hope of it. True, it is difficult to foster hope in the midst of rising costs of the most basic necessities of life, in the midst of so much pain and unrest in the land. But I say to you: FB_IMG_1485989995584

A hard thing to do, given the current national situation; an almost impossible mindset, even. For a people chafing at the bits, it is an almost scandalous message to propagate. But remember, it begins in your mind. Hope and anger seldom reside together. We feel oppressed, straining under the weight of the after effects of bad leadership and corruption in high places. As a matter of fact, we have gone through too much.

We need to make our voices heard. We feel the need to protest against the malfunctionings of an insensitive government, and rightly so. I say, go right ahead, for it is our human right. The government is after all, an institution set up by the people, ultimately for the benefit of the same people. It is made up of mere mortals, as opposed to gods with who we can have no dialogue. Whatever we do, and whatever our modus operandi, remember to

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Never has a seed germinated and grown on constantly harassed soil. Speak and act, but with an intent for peace

In the 21st century, miracles seldom occur without human participation. We await a time when things will change for the better, an idyllic time, when the future will not loom so dark before us all. But to sit with folded arms and watch, will be the greatest sin of all.

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Be diligent at your God given work, at utilizing your talents, at fighting back the recession. Work hard, work smart, work legal. Work, but then remember also to

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I know. The Young Nigerian wonders if there is a God in heaven, with all the pangs of hunger we “prayerful” Nigerians have had to endure. Let us, however, not lose hope or stop praying. Tolerance of one another’s religion, will help us foster the peace needed for the seeds of restoration to grow. Be not a nation of liars. We have gained a nasty reputation for being corrupt.

We cannot pray from the same lips we spew lies and speak words that oppress the poor, and yet expect to have the ear of our Creator. Not happening. FB_IMG_1485990383599

Say no to bribery and corruption. Train your children to say no as well. It all begins with you and me. Every person in high office was once part of the masses, and every adult was once a child. Therefore, adopting this mindset will ensure that when in positions of power, we have our heads screwed on right and every man gets his due.

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Yes, be kind. For regardless of how tough it is for Mr Ahmed, it is tougher for a certain Mr Bayo, and a little worse for one Mr Okoro. Be your brother’s keeper. Kindness is not a trait found in weak people, but then, we are a nation of strong, resilient people. So, it goes without saying that, to have a heart for kindness, we need to

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Real strength is tested when you are able to look outside of yourself and help others even when times are not kind to you.

Innovation is the key to escaping the quagmire called stagnation, or worse, retrogression. Re-strategizing and coming up with new ways to do everyday things, is the key to open new doors of revenue and problem solving inventions.

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It is a talent inherent in every man. Tap into it. It may take one try, it may take a thousand. But for a people with a purpose, the number of trials will remain just that: a number. This is because all great people have something in common. They are determined, and so should you be.

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In a nation of over 250 ethnic groups, there is bound to be a clash of interests and occasional conflict. A lot of water has gone under the bridge called Nigeria in this context, and so in the spirit of brotherliness and peace, we are called to

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Do not ask, what tribe? Or, what religion? Just do it. Show love to all, regardless of anything and everything. Strive for unity, for only a united nation can conquer the tribulations that come with development.

Every one of us, has something to offer, something custom made, that when brought to the communal table, makes more meaning in union with the contributions of others FB_IMG_1485990539663

We are all created for a greater purpose, and what a shame it would be if we hid our true selves under a bushel so as to show forth a facade in order to blend in. You are a gift, you yourself. Your idea, your work, your influence, could make a difference. Do not hide your light under that bowl. Do not.

Still, the pangs of childbirth may be painful and life threatening, but for the child to be born at last, we all have to

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Not as a sign of weakness or laziness, but a sign that we believe in the fruitfulness of the work we have put in.

Of a painful truth, we have boko haram, yet we are stable enough to feel sorry for Syria and Yemen and Iraq; we have been badly represented on the international scene by Nigerian fraudsters and drug dealers, yet our children are at the very top in Ivy League schools; there is hunger in the land, but we are fighting valiantly, and slowly but surely, WE SHALL WIN.

Be grateful for the pains of today and the moments of reprieve that are becoming increasingly few and far between. Be grateful for them, for through them, we shall appreciate the joys of tomorrow.

THIS IS A MESSAGE OF HOPE.

Sincerely, Chibugo.

PS : don’t just read, share the hope around. Share on your social media accounts and tag friends. You never know, you just may be rekindling the fire of hope that has dimmed in the hearts of our fellow Patriots.

Keep believing. #9jagobeta

Chibugo

Why new year resolutions are really important

February 1, 2017 ~ Chibugo ~ 6 Comments

If anyone had told me I would stay three months away from this blog of mine for ANY reason, I would have placed my hand on grandpa’s grave to swear never. This is my awkward way of apologizing.

Anyway, I went through some pretty tough times emotionally, which tested my personality quite harshly, and I’m glad to say I’m in a better place now.

On entering the new year, I made a rough list if resolutions that I intend to stand by. Most people think of new year resolutions as pretty lame stuff, but trust me, they’re not. Some of us also go about it wrongly. If perhaps, you’re a goal oriented person and you plan to save half a million this year and it turns out you only saved 350,000, it’s not something you’re supposed to kill yourself over. You replan for another year, trying new strategies that have the strengths the old ones didn’t, and you achieve what you want!

What I have learned about making resolutions though, is not to focus solely on goals, but on self development and fulfilment while working towards my goals and even after having achieved them. Looking at the goal alone makes you suddenly bereft when you’ve achieved it and seemingly have no challenge ahead anymore.

This year, I decided to go with the Pope’s list. It pretty much summed up all I had already drawn up, and I was pleasantly surprised.

IMG-20170103-WA0003 — I had an “ouch” moment when I read number 2. I still struggle with finishing my meals when I eat alone. Of all the things! 😢

All in all, I resolved to be more hands on in my approach to life and helping others. So far, these have guided me really well, and it’s just one month gone. If you haven’t made one, it’s not late yet. In addition, I made a few more.

1. Do not dwell on the “what ifs” and the “would have beens” from your past. Look to what lies ahead.

2. Visit your bucket list more often and everytime you do, take an item off it. Live.

3. Do not buy what you do not need.

4. Work like you have no one but yourself, and pray like you have no one but God.

5. Blog more often. Shorter posts, more pictures. 😁

It’s also not just about writing resolutions. It’s about visiting them often to see that you’re still in line and they’re not just a to do list for the month of January.

What are your resolutions like? Anything unusual? Anything you’d like to share? Anything at all? I’m happy to hear them! Drop them right in the comment box and let’s all get a-learning.

On this note, I wish you a happy new year! Like my people say, Whatever time a man wakes up, that is his morning.

Looking forward to more posts this year, and I hope all your plans for 2017 come through!

Kisses and hugs,

Sincerely, Chibugo.

Chibugo

Where are you from? What language do you speak?

October 29, 2016 ~ Chibugo ~ Leave a comment

It’s been a minute. Being away from this beloved space for a whole month has made me realize how “busy” I’ve been recently. I’ve missed writing here, but for the love of all I hold dear, I can’t seem to find the creative strength to write a new piece. #writersblock. And so I have dusted this up from my drafts. It’s a post that should have come up sometime in August, but I never got round to it. Old but gold; to me anyway. Enjoy.

When I was about to begin secondary school, father made a rule at home: We were all to speak Igbo and nothing else. We took it for one of those rules that never lasted. It took one brain-resetting knock on the head from Father to an unlucky scapegoat for us to know that this rule had come to stay. Smh #Nigerianparents

In this day and age, one might ask, “what’s the need of learning a language that won’t pay my bills, probably has no value on the global scale, won’t help the situation of the country, won’t help me progress in my career, and probably will not add anything of value to me personally”? A good question, but one which I will not even attempt to answer. I will only try to appeal to your reasoning.

I can only say my point of view, and invite you to chime in. My belief is that when the gazillion languages in the world were created, there was a purpose for it. Language is an intrinsic part of every culture, and you cannot claim to be a member of a culture when you have no interest in the language.

I find it weird when I see children of people who live abroad speaking Yoruba and Igbo and Hausa fluently, while homegrown children cannot make a complete sentence in their language. The worst part, I have noticed, is that 80% of these “team no native language” children do not even speak English correctly. Shame. It’s a different thing if you have decided to renounce your heritage, after all, there are tons of people in the UK and the US who try everything possible to rid themselves of everything that identifies them as Nigerian. I have nothing to say about this lot; I’m not proud of the fact but I’m sure they have their reasons.

Say, we’re in a gathering of young people from different parts of the world, and it gets to the social part where we get to introduce ourselves and tell a bit about where we come from. Jean easily introduces himself as French and can speak his language to prove it, Juanita is Spanish and very proud of the fact, easily speaks her native language , Bill is the only native Englishman, but knows a sprinkling of German, Lee is Chinese, and speaks nothing but his native language at home. Last but not the least, comes Obi, who speaks nothing but English. He says he is Nigerian, he answers an Igbo name, has Nigerian parents, but has nothing else that links him to his native land. Okay, maybe I painted that scenario but, now you see what “rootlessness” can mean.

What irks me to no end, is the fact that some parents deliberately prevent their children from learning their native language. Why, in heaven’s name? I remember someone telling me with a proud smirk “I don’t speak Igbo, you know”. I don’t know if she expected me to start jumping for joy. Ngwanu, clap for yasef! 👏👏 There is a pride of association when you belong to a certain tribe or group of people, because regardless of the ills they are known for, there must be something good about them. My Igbo brothers are known worldwide for being very money smart, even if it means doing illegal stuff. There is almost always an Igbo name when criminals are being listed abroad for crimes like drug peddling. That’s still not enough to blind my eyes to the awesomeness of being an Igboman, knowing my history and culture, and having good background to drive positive change for the future. I remember reading what Adichie wrote on tribe and language (paraphrased) :

I am Nigerian because a white man created Nigeria and gave me that identity. I am black because the white man constructed black to be as different as possible from his white. But I was Igbo before the white man came”.

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We have absolutely no reason to feel that our language is inferior to any other language in any way, be it Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, or any other Nigerian language. True, maybe the Igbo tribe is made up of little more than 30 million people as against the rest of the billions of other people in the world, but that should be more reason we would want to put the language on the map more boldly. Pride of identity, isn’t it? I am speaking for my own language, in this instance, but I’m aware that this is not an exclusive ill. What we lack is a sense of identity. I get it. Nigeria is plagued by so many problems and no one would want to be associated with such failure when away from home. But, really, when all is said and done, it’s also not cool, losing your identity in a world where people are trying hard to hold on to the shreds of theirs. Your mother tongue is a treasure that should be preserved. According to fountain magazine,

Mother tongue is one of the most powerful tools used to preserve and convey culture and cultural ties. Children who are unaware of their culture, their language and their history will lose confidence in themselves, the family, society and the nation to which they belong and will have no other option than seeking an alternate identity. A child will associate himself with the language and culture he knows best…. Parents should find ways to help their children maintain and improve their mother language without neglecting to give affirmative messages and keeping positive attitudes about other cultures. We must not also forget that we live in a multicultural society and we should teach our children to learn about other cultures and respect them as well.

Note that being fluent in our language and knowledgeable about our culture and history should not in any way affect the value of other cultures in our eyes. I, personally, have a great respect for the richness of the Yoruba traditions, and the pride with which they display them locally and globally. I am not even as fluent as I would like to be in Igbo; a couple weeks ago an elderly client of mine whom I’d come to respect a lot told me a proverb and it took me a few minutes to unscramble it. Made me appreciate the language more, I tell you. One new proverb added to my repertoire.

I also discovered that many parents are quite clueless. I mean, if you grew up never having travelled to your hometown, knowing only bits and pieces of your mother tongue, and being ignorant about the tradition of your own people, it goes without saying, that your children will be even more clueless. At the liaison office of my state here in Lagos some weeks back, I witnessed a complicated situation. A young man(very handsome if I might add) needed his state of origin certificate, but did not know the town he came from. I was dumbfounded, to say the least. Even after doing some research and almost trying to trace his ancestry😁, we were stuck. He was raised by a single mother, and over the phone she was almost as clueless as he was. Eventually, after like a hundred phone calls, a relative hundred times removed, arrived and helped to rectify the situation. I was pproud of one thing though. Despite never having been home, he could manageably speak his language. It’s never too late to learn, anyway. First of all, I believe the stereotypes have to be dispelled.

1. Speaking your native language fluently does not in any way make you less sophisticated. I actually find my native language, Igbo, very sexy. Ignore the weirdness, it’s just me. Doesn’t mean I find the phonological interference funny when I hear people speak Igbotic English. Contradictory, no. There’s a balance somewhere in between.

2. Speaking only English or whatever predominant world language, without knowing your own native language, is not a sign of being knowledgeable. You actually get better at other languages when you have a good grip of your own language.

That said, how do we ensure that we don’t raise a bereft generation Z?

1. Making your native language a language of love, rather than a language of strife. I remember that as kids, mother spoke Igbo to us mostly when she was mad at us and wanted to scold us. It made us respond with fear, rather than interest. But after years of travel and meeting people back east who spoke nothing but Igbo to us, we saw it as a way of life. I dream in Igbo and I think in Igbo frequently. Father also had a habit of telling us Igbo folklore, featuring “mbe”, the tortoise, and his cunning ways, and other animals like “agu” the tiger, “odum” the Lion, “enwe” the monkey, and “Enyi” the elephant. Good times😍

2. That brings me to the second point: travelling to your hometown as frequently as possible. I probably learnt more Igbo proverbs eavesdropping on my father’s conversations with his fellow kindred men than I learnt in Igbo class. Following mother to the local markets in the village also helped us learn many colloquial terms we would never have come across on our own.

3. Reading to them in your native language. In the year that father made the law about speaking only Igbo, we began a daily rotation of the Igbo Bible at morning devotion. After stumbling for months over the words, we became much more fluent in reading Igbo than most of our peers. Go dad!

4. In the case that you also do not know the language, learn with them! It’s never too late.

I realize that this article is about as inadequate to exhaust a topic as sensitive as this one, as taking a basket to the stream can be, and so I invite your contributions. I’d love to hear from you.

Nke nwere isi, enweghi okpu; nke nwere okpu, enweghi isi. An Igbo proverb which means: The one who has a head, has no cap, and the one who has a cap, has no head. – Author: probably one of my ancestors. 😉

Sincerely, Chibugo.

Chibugo

Here’s a dose of rhetoric

September 26, 2016 ~ Chibugo ~ 12 Comments

I am pretty sure I am not alone in team crazy. In all honesty, the most serene and calm demeanor sometimes houses the craziest thoughts ever. Like, I sometimes think,

1. What’s the worst that would happen if I broke into a dance in the middle of the busy road? Isn’t it a free world? One should be able to dance when and where she pleases. 😏

2. Am I the only one who, after reading the news, toys with the idea of getting my stuff in a backpack and walking through countries and swimming through oceans to a saner country like, say, Canada?

3. I could pull a stunt on a random guy, walk up to him and try my toasting skills on him, just to see his reaction. 😂 😂. It would be epic! Hmmmmm. I could actually do this….. Uh, maybe not. 😰

4. A day should have 30 hours. Splendid idea.

5. Why did we have to grow up? Adulthood is a trap. There’s no fun here😢

6. I don’t understand people that use unnecessary big grammar. Y’all don’t impress me one bit. Buy still sounds better than purchase, fat still sounds better than corpulent, and beautiful sounds way better than pulchritudinous. I’m outta here.

7. Trump may actually become President of the US. 😱

Tell me your crazy thoughts.! Spill your brains in the comments section! Okay, that sounded really gross.

Till I drop in again,

Sincerely, Chibugo.

Chibugo

Another man’s meat

September 9, 2016September 9, 2016 ~ Chibugo ~ 6 Comments

You probably don’t know it, but you have something someone else desires terribly.

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A gap in the teeth is an abnormality, a defect. So is a dimple. A genetic defect caused by shortened facial muscle, that one. But this is all anatomical balderdash. Tell this to the women in Aba who go to carvers to chisel out a gap in their teeth at a very high risk, or the girls who attempt surgery to create dimples on their cheeks. The long and short of it is that people look for ways to achieve said defects as an item of beauty. The beholder calls the shots after all.

A mole on the face or body is a defect. I have two on my neck, and that one above my lip. Spent hours in my childhood trying to remove it, till I saw a very beautiful woman put the exact same dot above her lip with black liner ; the final touch in her makeup. It didn’t look so much like a defect after that.

A fart is a fart is a fart.

Kembu, my sister, had an operation and was not allowed to eat any solid food till she was able to fart. For three days she was on intravenous fluid nutrition. How long can you stay away from eating actual food? On the third day, mother came into her hospital room and met her smiling, all 32 of her teeth almost walking around the room on their own. “Mummy, I farted!”, came the announcement, in the same tone of voice you’d announce, “Dad, I got into Harvard on a full scholarship!”

What is a fart again?

Oh, it’s that thing we all do but never want to admit we do. Biology says a healthy human makes about 4 to 14 successful attempts daily. Too smelly and “messy”(pun intended) to be spoken about. But somebody prayed to be able to do it.

7:45pm. She’s on Cele overhead bridge, stuck in traffic. Amid the sound of horns and drivers cursing at each other and hawkers calling out their wares, she takes off her stilettos and puts on her handy flip flops, alights from the bus and walks the rest of the distance, passing the cause of the traffic and crossing the road to take a tricycle to her final destination. A pair of eyes follows her every move hungrily from behind her tinted window, air conditioned luxury car. If one could just park on the bridge and return later to pick up her car…. She sighs and blares her horn even louder.

Life is a well spiced pot of ironical jollof, the party type.

Sincerely, Chibugo.

Chibugo

What’s the best toasting punchline you’ve ever heard(or used)?

August 27, 2016August 27, 2016 ~ Chibugo ~ 8 Comments

If you’ve heard Simi’s “Jamb Question” song, then you probably understand what I mean. This is the one thing that i don’t envy guys for, the fact that you have to think of something ingenuous to catch a lady’s attention. It reminds me of a sales class I once took, where we were made to try out different “elevator speeches” which had to get the attention of the prospect in about 30 seconds. People got really creative! But theory is always easier than practical, especially if you have the tendency to be tongue tied when on the spot!

So the other day when I heard Simi’s song again, the idea for this post popped into my head. What’s the best “toasting” punchline you’ve ever heard? I compiled a few I had experienced personally, so, awon boys, identify your category. I’m not looking for trouble, just being my usual cheeky self. The punchlines themselves aren’t weird per se, just laughable. To me anyway. Here goes….

I’ve been watching you for some time now. I like everything about you, the way you walk, talk, your smile, your charisma, in fact, you actually seem too good to be true. Will you be the mother of my kids? Me: smilingly basking in the euphoria of being called “too good to be true”, till he gets to the “mother of my kids” part.Nibo?! Oga how far na? I never even gree for girlfriend, we don enter labour room already! Chai! 😒
What’s your name? Okay where are you from? Really? So is your dad a titled chief? What does he do for a living? Are you Catholic? Whats your genotype? And how old are you? Me:Egbon, ees not that serious. We just met two hours ago. Sheesh.
Has anybody ever told you how beautiful you are? You’re, honestly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Me:(jaw drop) Oya, collect this award. It’s either you’ve been living under a rock all your life, or you’re definitely the biggest liar I’ve ever seen.
Do you believe in love at first sight? Me:(in full geek mode)Weeeeeeeeeell, but then, a very high percentage of people are either long or short sighted, so…..(I didn’t really say this oh)
Immediately I set my eyes on you, my heart told me,”This is your wife”. Me:Really. Tell me more. I didn’t know hearts could talk.
You look familiar. Do you attend Watchman Church at Oshodi? Me: Really? With this full face of makeup I’ve got on? Jeez man! You can do better than that na! Hian!
There is absolutely no reason why a beautiful damsel like you should be walking under this hot sun. Care for a ride? Me:That’s sweet. Thank you, but I’m right in front of my gate.
Do you have a sister called Harmony? You don’t? But your name is Sylvia right? No? So what’s your name? Me:Well played! Sharp guy!

Please oh my people, I’m not trying to slight anyone, this is just for us to share a few laughs. You have to love our boys for trying hard. I mean, think… What if you were in their shoes? Chai. The great thing is, many successful relationships have emerged from these seeming “jamb questions”, so don’t be so critical abeg.

And erm, these replies, most of them were given in my head. In real life, of course I’d just give a very proper, polite reply. 😄

Please brethren and sistren, don’t laugh alone, share with your friends! And please share your own stories in the comments section, whether you were the toaster or the toastee….😉

Kisses, hugs and hot puff puff,

Chibugo.

Chibugo

I have just had an eye opening experience…..

August 11, 2016 ~ Chibugo ~ 8 Comments

I have to start by apologizing. To all mothers who earn a living. Working mothers. I couldn’t have been more wrong about you and what you go through, and I’m sorry if I ever belittled your vocation.

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My older sister Kembu, had a baby six weeks ago. She regaled me with horror stories from the Labour room and laughingly watched me squirm. Anyway, as custom demands, mother “packed her load” to her home to care for her and her new baby, leaving me to manage the home(siblings and dad). Now, this isn’t the first time this is happening, but there is a difference in that this time, I have a job I go out to everyday. It took me just a week to realize that this was going to be a bit difficult. My house is one of those homes where everything is eaten fresh, so no frozen soups and stews and the like. You know what that means, right? Multiple trips to the market every week, and you’re stuck in the kitchen like everyday. Now when mother was around, all I did was assist as soon as I returned from work, so I took a lot for granted.

Imagine the 180 degree turn when I realized that I would have to rush off everyday hours earlier than usual so as to beat traffic, run to the market, get home before dark, and prepare dinner. I didn’t have the luxury of leisurely going home after making my rounds with my clients for the day. No sir. Now all I thought of was “what are we having for dinner tonight? I hope the kids locked the gate like I told them to. I hope they don’t burn the house down. I hope they don’t open to strangers.” etc. As a matter of fact, on one of those days I had to prepare fresh soup, I was with my last client for the day and while he went on and on about what he wanted from me, I scribbled furiously on my notepad. Poor guy. He probably thought I was taking notes. 😂 What I was writing looked something like this :

Akwu (palm nuts),
Uziza leaves,
Ogiri (a local flavoring),
Oha leaves,
Stock fish,
Dry fish,
Cocoyams,

Plus a couple of other things I needed to buy at the supermarket on the way home. Thank God he didn’t ask to see what notes I had taken.

Cooking really isn’t a big deal, but it becomes a big deal when you bring work home and you’re the type that has to cook almost daily. Stirring a pot of stew with one hand while answering an urgent call with the other hand isn’t particularly anyone’s idea of fun.

Something happened one weekend that almost made me weep. I had bought ingredients for two separate meals and after preparing one, I had to put away the ingredients for the other one for later. The perishables should have been in the fridge, but since we have not had power in a long time, I had to find an alternative. I had put everything away, or so I thought. The next day was a Saturday, and I usually have a meeting at church on Saturday mornings. While at the meeting, I was subdued because something kept niggling at my mind. It wasn’t until I got home and entered the kitchen that I realized that I hadn’t steamed the meat with which I was to prepare the second meal and it had gone bad! I was so annoyed and I stormed off to the market to buy another batch. I was to have bought vegetables as well, but lo and behold, when I returned from the market, I realized I wasn’t with any vegetables! Thinking back, I realized I had gotten an important call from a client while buying them and I had rushed off to see him, only to return home without my vegetables. Tail tucked between my legs, I returned to the market. Luckily the seller had kept them for me and I just had to come and pick them up.

Or was it the day I got home and went straight to the kitchen still wearing my work clothes because I was late? I was doing my thing until I realized I couldn’t find the vegetables for the soup. Not again! I thought. I turned the kitchen upside down searching for them, to no avail. It was already 7:45pm. Where would I get vegetables? The strain of the past few weeks suddenly fell heavy on my shoulders and I felt like crying. Suddenly it occurred to me to open my duffel bag. There it was, still fresh! Who puts vegetables inside a duffel bag though? Smh.

At some point, father had to travel as well. Well, no difference, except that his new tenant decided to move in in his absence. I happened to be around that weekend, and of all the things, the door to his apartment refused to work! He was royally pissed, and I automatically went into carpenter mode. After a lot of heaving and banging and lubricating with oil, the door finally opened. Just when I thought playing mum was tough, now I have to play dad too. 😒

One evening, while I sat typing away on my tablet, with another eye on my books scattered on the kitchen counter and my ear and nose focused on the pot on the cooker, my littlest sister, Kiisa came into the kitchen and sat quietly. That was strange, I thought. She is a restless ball of energy on any given day. I waited. I was sure she wanted to say something. Sure enough, she drew close after a few minutes and whispered to me, “Chibugo, please, before we sleep this night there’s something I want to tell you”.

Ahhhhhh! In that moment, there’s no direction my mind did not fly to. I dropped everything and tried to maintain a calm face. After a little persuasion, she revealed what was bothering her.

Kiisa: My chest is paining me

Me: (sighing from relief) but you don’t have cough or a cold.

Kiisa: No I don’t.

Me: Did you fall?

Kiisa: No

Me: (already exasperated) Take off your clothes. (she does so). Where is it paining you?( She points to the right part of her chest and I look)

Ahhhhhh. I look at her face. I can see she knows as well. Puberty has just set in. Now what would mum have said or done? And why the heck did Puberty not wait till she came back? I look at Kiisa and smile. She smiles shyly back. It turns into a full blown laugh and I give her a hug. She’ll be alright. We will have a talk, but not tonight. This mothering thing is not a walk in the park.

It doesn’t end there. Sometimes kids behave badly and you could lose it. It got so much one day, that I sentenced Kiisi and Kiisa to kneeling down with raised hands and closed eyes for an hour. Oh blessed peace! I kept at my work, writing, making calls and sending last minute emails, enjoying the quiet until I realized that it was too quiet. I wondered where they were and found them still bearing their punishment. I had actually forgotten them. Shame on me! 😖

On a normal day, I’d go to bed and count sheep for a long time before I’m able to fall asleep. But this entire period, my head barely hits the pillow before I’m asleep and it seems the alarm wakes me up a minute later telling me it’s 5:30am already! What a life, in which all you think of all day is how soon you can get to bed because of exhaustion.

At a point, I had to sit and think. Is it like this all the time for mothers who work? How do they keep it all together? Do all the girls whose sole prayer point is “Lord let me marry this year by fire” know that it could be like this?

I then understood. All the times I had seen a mother of young children doze in church and shaken my head, all the times I had seen little children sitting outside their school gate by 5pm and wondered where their mother was, all the times I had seen them(mothers) take a quick nap on the bus; now I understood fully. And I apologize earnestly, for having ever thought it was easy. Now I totally understand. Forgive me for being young and foolish.

Mother returned yesterday. Imagine my surprise when I returned from work and met her at home! I almost shed tears of joy. Now I can go back to being young and ~~irresponsible~~ free.

The next time you see a working mum, remove your hat for her. The job she does is more difficult than it looks. Forget the #yummymummy and #mumwithswag photos on Instagram.

I think I’m going to get mother a ridiculously expensive gift.

In reality, all mums are working mums, and all mums are deserving of respect and support. – Katie McLaughlin

Chibugo

Greetings… To those who have touched my 24 years of life

July 13, 2016 ~ Chibugo ~ 11 Comments

Hey, it’s my birthday. My birth certificate says it is. And apparently, I’m 24. In typical fashion, I’ve spent the last few days thinking weird thoughts, like what I’d look like at 70, what kind of things I’d do between now and then, and the people that have impacted my life till now. I realized that many of these people I will never see again, and there are many more who will come, who I’m yet to see. I suddenly feel very thankful. I know I’ve seen something similar somewhere before, but nevertheless…

1. To the random people who have said a kind word here and a compliment there – Thank you for putting a spring in my step.

2. To the unknown faces I smile at on the road, on the bus, at church, and in other random places – Thank you for returning my smile.

3. To the white bearded policeman who for four years, halted traffic on Montgomery road whenever I had to cross while going to school – Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You made me feel special.

4. To that friend who got me my very first present – Thank you for showing me the value of friendship.

IMG_20160712_163705_watermark — Feeling a little zany with my ruby woo lip print. Awkward, kissing my book and all. Feeling my thankfulness yet?

5. To the boy who first told me “you’re beautiful” – Thank you. I believe you now.

6. To this great friend who is always there, ready to listen to every stupid idea that pops into my head, encouraging me when I’m up and comforting me when I’m down – Thank you for becoming more like a sister than a friend.

7. To that special friend who sheltered me in my troubled year – Thank you, for nursing my spirit.

8. To the authors of all the books I’ve read – You are too many to name. Thank you, for fuelling my imagination and pushing me to dream.

9. To that teacher who turned me out of his office and told me I would suffer – Thank you for the tears you wrought; and here’s my upper second class for your viewing pleasure.

10. To that other teacher who helped me when no one else could, who pushed away the barricade of religion and went out of the way to show love regardless – Thank you, for ensuring that I made it.

11. To those whose sole mission seems to be getting me hitched – Thank you, for forcing me to look deep within to see how complete I am, and how lucky another complete person will be to have me as his wife. P.S: I’m still not ready to jump the broom. Ha!

12. To my family: what could I be without you? – Thank you for being mine.

13. To the one whose heart I broke – I’m sorry. Truly.

14. To the many I may have disappointed – I beg your forgiveness. Thank you for bearing with my very flawed self.

15. To the ones who have said an unkind word or two to me – Thank you, for making me value loving and kind words more.

16. To the friends who have always had my back (and hopefully always will) despite my many flaws – Thank you. You are worth more than your weight in diamonds.

17. To those who have poured out their hearts to me in times of distress – Thank you for trusting me, and I hope I left you feeling better.

18. To the “chosen” few, who are privy to the goings on in the recesses of my overactive brain, my uncertainties and fears, my insecurities and quirks; the very few people with whom I can be myself – There is a special mansion you inhabit for free in my heart. You are irreplaceable. Thank you.

19. To those who have advised me professionally and personally – Thank you, salt of the earth; Thank you.

20. To those I have worked with – Thank you for bearing with my perfectionism. Thank you.

21. To you reading this blog right now – Thank you for reading, for without readers I am no writer.

22. To my Day One Bae (before anyone else), the One who loves me unconditionally, from the kinky hair on my head to the soles of my feet, my first love, Yahweh – I love, because You first loved me. Thank you, for Everything.

Youth is the gift of nature, but age is the work of art – Garson Kanin.

Sincerely, Chibugo.

Chibugo