3 to do things for a happier monday

Another Monday is here and more and more gist with most nine to fivers and even those who parted ways with the regular working hours, confirm just how much love they have/had for Mondays; almost zero. Mondays, unfortunately cannot be made to disappear. Even if it can, the following day becomes the new Monday! Same o’l crap, I know you are thinking.

Since we can’t work any magic to make Mondays disappear, we can try the following tips to help our Mondays be a little less foreboding.

1. Don’t leave ironing your clothes till Sunday evening. All that does is remind you of Monday and sort of extend your Monday into your Sunday evening.

2. Try not to over eat on the Sunday night so you don’t wake up extra heavy and sluggish on Monday morning.

3. Go over your grateful list for the out gone week and shape in your mind your desire for a much more desirable week.


Have an inspired week!


Race against time…

She’s racing down the dirt path, panting and not aware of the cuts she now has on her feet. Somewhere along this race against time she had lost both pairs of what was her foot ware. 
Her mind was focused. Her determination, sure. For her, it was a merry go round of emotions. Every minute wasted, she believed was her future slowly fading away. 

Ngozi was not the your typical city girl: she didn’t grow up with fantasies of roses in her hair and barbie dolls hair to plait and paint. She never knew what it meant to blush nor did she have the luxury of pink sheets and skirts made from finest cotton fabric and such. 

She was born a fighter. From the beginning she had been – the moment that saw her  poking her head into this world in the living room of her grand mother’s house where her mother had suddenly gone into labour. Deeply rooted in her was the need to win, to survive. The desire to thrive. Her deepest fears were her greatest enemies and yet they seemed to spur her on at this very moment. 

She was going to fast and with momentum with which she had been going she went flying as she tried to take the bend that led and hadn’t taken cognisance of the boulder just up ahead. Her feet struck it and in a flash she was sent flying, face first to a path she knew only too well. 

Time seemed to pause. 

Thoughts flashed in her mind.

In those moments of this unbecoming fall. She saw where she was coming from, where she was now and was blind to where she would be. 
“Ng”, as her mother called her, had always dreamt of being a part of stories she had heard when growing up. To live the city life and have a family of her own and yes, take mama with her. 

Half way to the ground, she closed her eyes and prepared for the worst. 

Mama was really not her mother, but she had taken that place since Ngozi could call the words “mama”. She had fed her and watched her grow, fought for her and to reality she helped her know. No day passed with a bonding session between this two. “Best of friends, gossip pals, culinary champions, even relationship experts” were but a few names they got tagged over the years. But it was perfect, for all they needed was themselves. But now her world hung by a thread. Mama is sick. 

The pain she felt as she landed was surprisingly not as she expected. The tears that flowed were from the hurt in her heart. 

The ‘yellow medicine man’ as the doctors were called had come to see mama weeks before this dreary dusk. He had taken her blood with him and she loathed him for that, but stayed calm in the hope of mama getting better. She hoped each day for good news. 

She never got any. 

She was told mama wouldn’t make it. She had some god cursed disease called cancer. Yes she remembered the name very well as she had fought with it severally in her dreams, chased it even begged it to leave mama alone. 

It was her final attempt to save mama. Her last flight as she knew it. If only the yellow medicine man could try one more time. 

But deep down inside her, she knew this battle was lost. 


Johnny English

*picture – http://nonaha.com/

The greater horror – Boko Haram vs Ebola

After deciding to write about the two nightmares that have been bugging our minds and banging on the doors next to ours, figuratively speaking, I got stuck. What in the world was I going to write about that hadn’t yet been said or, as in this case, read?  Every Nigerian has an opinion of one or the other or both. Most of the talking or properly put, opinions, make as much sense as… (fill in the gap as you see fit) *shrugs*. And the mischief makers? They practical took the illiterate Nigerians and made a super mockery out of them. Or what can be said of a situation where Nigerians were asked to use salt and hot water to take their bath and also drink to prevent / cure a virus! Na wa o! At least there has been a little bit more enlightenment on that. But what about Booko, the term I prefer for the Boko Haram, menace?

Anyway, I somehow got back into the writing when I realised that the familiarity, or is it similarity, between both was just too much to be ignored. 

Firstly, they both got into the country with the government looking on as though they were guests bearing goodness for the nation.

BokoHaram – http://www.vanguardngr.com/2009/08/boko-haram-ressurects-declares-total-jihad/

Ebola – The first reported Ebola case in Nigeria was an imported case of a Liberian-American, Patrick Sawyer, who travelled by air from Liberia and became violently ill upon arriving in the city of Lagos. Sawyer died five days later, on 25 July. How did he even get into the country in the first place? What about health checks at entry points into the country, more so when there was already an alert of the virus in West Africa?

Secondly, they are both very deadly. Booko has the ability to move around with a bit of restriction because it has a face, albeit unrecognised by the authorities. Ebola, as insidious as Booko, is unpercevieable by the human eye unaided. The fatality rate is 90%.

The score card in Nigeria is:
Boko Haram – not less than 5000 between 2009 and June 2014

Ebola – 7 people, with unknown number who may have been infected, between July 20 and Sept 1, 2014

Thirdly, the Government is slow concerning responding to these anomalies or they are just undecided about what to do

Boko Haram – “Since Boko Haram’s resurgence in 2010, the Nigerian government has struggled to respond to the growing threat posed by the group.” (US CRS, 2014)

Ebola – http://www.usnews.com/news/world/articles/2014/08/05/nigeria-acknowledges-slow-response-in-ebola-case

And fourthly, the two have suddenly gained us un-needed notoriety for being both slow at curbing insurgency and generously allowing death join us for tea, or something close. A friend wants to visit Nigeria but has caught the cold feet bug after hearing that we already lost 5 lives to the scourge called Ebola.

I know I am supposed to be open minded and allow the government to make a response to these, but seriously I don’t want to hear nothing. I want to see. Just like I can see that the power situation has improved, even as I hope and pray that this is not because the rivers are full and they are able to generate substantial quantity for supply that would diminish at the end of the rains. I, and I believe a lot of other Nigerians, want to be safe in our country; protected by the government that is saddled with that responsibility under the constitution *sic* of the Federal Republic *sic sic*.


Enough said!

On a different note – the kind of news that comes to you on a Monday morning that a friend passed away early that morning just causes you to  rethink not on the essence of life alone but the value that this life produces when we still have breath. Sad that it takes something gloomy as death to help us realise the value of relationships, but that is how it is.

It is a great day. Make that call to that someone you miss or you have been planning to call for a while, or send a text. Take the time to appreciate one person. Remember life, no matter how long we may perceive it, usually ends without us having a chance to say a proper good bye.

Live life largely!

Loud non-sense!

“I kinda
But I shan’t”

‘Oh pulease, not again’
Your Shoulda,
Or shan’t ah talk
Sounds like a car starting up with no battery

This shoulda
Ehn ah
Might have been cool ah
But all you are
Is a hot air balloon with no air

You stand and pose
Looking like something real
But a few minutes with you
And eternity has passed by twice
Boring me with gist
That’s kinda ‘slow’

I shan’t do the ‘ahhh’
Or do the ‘ohhh’
And it really woulda be great
If you coulda keep your business to yourself


The ridiculous greeting!

I do take a lot of things personal!

Ehehe… funny way to start-off a post that’s meant to inspire your Monday. But truth is truth. Not like all stuff I take personal makes sense but there are some, ehn, that I will not understand. Sending a ‘hi’ as the beginning, body and end of you BROADCAST message and be expecting a response! That one pass ‘ajanaku ku mo ri nkan firi’. It is just like walking to to your veranda overlooking a market and shouting ‘hello’, I don’t know how many people would look at you and ‘hello’ you back. Speaking for myself, I will hiss and walk on, and in my mind give you a slap!

Brings me to another very serious matter. Most times when I see a greeting on my bbm or whatsap or any other of the very many distractions we have taken to to keep us connected to friends, family and business extensions, and it goes like ‘morn’ , ‘gm’ and the many variants, I just wanna dash that person a reset slap. Really! Please pardon me I am just speaking the wishful imaginations of my mind. Just say hi or hello, at least I am not under an illusion that you want me to respond to your greeting.

There’s just something about the “good” before the “morning” that makes me think that some thinking  went into the greeting. It makes me think, even if falsely, that this pinger woke up on the right side of bed and is worthy of a response. It just lightens the day!

Whether they mean the morning to be good for me or not, we’ll that’s another gist for another day, at that moment though I am satisfied with that simple courtesy of wishing me a ‘good morning’. Not just in the words, for words convey nothing except in the perception of what the intention is, but in the short affirmation that speaks good, now that is meant literally, into my day.

There’s something good hidden in the day. Be the first to speak it and make someone’s day lighter. ߘ



If you forget me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look  at the crystal moon,
at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine


Pablo Neruda

When things go wrong…


I missed writing in here for about two weeks now. What happened? Well I volunteered to mentor some young children at a teens camp for 7 days and it was intense. There was just no time to write my thoughts or anything even remotely connected to what I can put in here. And afterwards? I took a break. *smiles* A holiday of sorts where I simply did no writing I can post. If you want to read from that period though, send me a mail and I would be glad to send you my thoughts for your private viewing only. Hahaha!

I am back. And that’s what matters. Missed getting giddy on sharing my thoughts and thinking.


Sometimes we get so hung-up on our pain we forget that some people are in worse pains than we are. And we lose all sense of being grateful for the other stuff that works in our lives. If by chance these people were ever to share just a teeny weeny percent of their pain with you, you would probably pass out and pass on to the great beyond (why ever it is called that though?). This came at me with more than a lil force this past couple of months, and i’ll share the experience with you.

So it started as just a soft solid mass in the orifice, that we open up only to the wc. I thought nothing of it except it was only a bruise from heavy stooling (one lesson learnt is drink plenty of water and never over push doing the number 2). But it didn’t go away. Rather it got bigger and it became a nuisance. Still I kept it to myself. The option was to visit the doctor and have him/her poke around where no one need look. Naaaa! That was not going to happen. Eventually I got unbashed enough to mention it to the closest medical personnel to me. The advice was ‘let me call doctor….’. I rolled my eyes and putting my ear piece in my ear, killed the conversation. 

Anyways I started hearing the story of the horrible pain that this condition, o yes I know now that it is called hemorrhoids, had caused people that I know well. And I am like really!  Cause even though it had persisted, I really wasn’t in any pain. Just discomfort from the knowledge that all was not well with the back side area and that made sitting for too long a very not likeable activity.

I listened in awe to the stories they were ‘sharing’ and it was as though they were talking about something totally different to what vi was going through. I wasn’t sure I would have coped well if whatever they were talking about had ailed me. And for that I am grateful.

By the way, I am much better now. Resorted to the traditional way of dealing with it. *grins*


Be inspired!

I choose!

I choose!
To think and use my mind
To dig deep within
To use every tool found
To reach one life that would be saved

I choose!
To refrain my lips and speak no evil
To lift up
Rather than bind and break down
Such lives as would be raised


I choose!
To live my life and be well spent
To serve dutifully my king
A life that shines, even in the light
One that brings more light to his world

I choose!
To be known after my time
Not as one that sought to be known
But one that lived to leave his world
Much brighter for the lives to come

I choose!


Queen of Broken Hearts


All hail miss independent, hard but soft…
Body of a goddess, heart of stone…
Hail! Hail!!! The queen of broken hearts
Lips of sweet lies and kisses of death’s art

I fell in love with a stripper, not a keeper
My eyes are wide open, it feels like death
The pain goes deep… deeper with every breath
My time was up before it started, take me o Reaper

Love is sweet they say, no one told me what price I’d pay
Slave to the thoughts of the honey lady
Stung by her bee-auty

Heart is broken, damaged beyond repair
Sorrow, anguish, bitterness and despair
I’ll give out the little pieces till there’s nothing left
Nothing left of my heart… Empty… Gone with the wind