DHL family funfair

This year's DHL family funfair/end of year party came up on the 14th of Sept,2014. It was a beautiful time for the DHL family to come together and unwind and socialise with their larger families of all branches and extended families. Although the party came up very late in the year, it's supposed to have been ending of the year 2013, still, half buns is better than none or it could be that it was truly as they said simply a funfair and nothing more. Although they did ruffle some feathers. Each family was allowed a spouse and four children which did not go down well with those that have more than that. This raised an argument amongst some staff members when one of them grumbled that he had to select some of his children and leave the rest at home, he felt it was unfair to him, and stressed the point that it wasn't his fault that the 'oyibo' people no fit born pass two and he did not see why we blacks should swallow everything 'oyibo' says hook line and sinker as if we have no minds of our own. His summation brought out the guns. He was asked if he was a farmer and why he needed so many children at this present time especially considering the economic climate. He said that his father did not earn salary in his time yet had been able to raise him and his siblings well, so he did not see why same could not be the case with his children considering the fact that they had one up on him-they were already in the city. He also brought up the issue of the shoeless boy who has become a president despite all odds.  He made it sound like childhood poverty is the recipe for future success and should be courted at costs. Maybe it is. I ran into my petite hot model  friend Ijeoma Lilian Okoye who has defied the odds in the modelling world despite her height or lack of it. It was a day of food, music and general relaxation..

Chidi( Black) Kelechi Obinna

Today I mourn and celebrate my friend Lance Corporal Chidi kelechi Obinna who passed on just when his life was about to begin. Like one of those annoying ironies of life, he didn't fall by the expected enemy's bullet but by a seemingly common illness Tonsillitis related complications. I don't even understand what that is.

Chidi popularly referred to as Black by friends because of his generously abundant melanin pigmentation was one of the most focused young people I'd ever met. Back in school, aside from tackling Agricultural Economics in a Federal University of Technology, he was also concurrently running another course -Estate management- in Federal Polytechnic Nekede and he was also a soldier. Take that.

Prior to meeting him, I'd never really thought about soldiers as real people. You know flesh and blood. But he and his friends opened my eyes to another field of life, the joys and perils of it. More of Perils in my opinion. I mean even though a civilian knows he will die someday he can at least live in fantasy land and assume death is faraway not minding incident like a plane crashing into your building on a warm Sunday afternoon... But to an active military personnel, death and pain are constant realities. A friend of his once remarked "pain is your friend, it tells you that you're still in the land of the living". Another said "Everyman has a bullet with his name on it, and it'll find you wherever you are".

 He began his military career as a boy soldier when he was twelve years old  at Nigeria Military School NMS Zaria in 1996 and ever since then, service of motherland has been his life. He was always neat(seems soldiers are averse to dirt), well dressed, courteous with a wicked sense of humour, the definition of humility. Very unflappable. I remember always looking for ways to fluster him until he unwittingly handed me an arsenal. I overheard him asking a female friend of his why girls liked referring to each other as roomies (room mates) and bunkies (bunk mates), he asked her if she'd ever heard a guy say of another "oh he's my bunkie", he basically thought it was so lame and purely girls thing. I decided then to start calling him 'roomie' since he was rooming with my friend but then I thought 'bunkie' sounded more girlie so I took that one. I still recall the laughter of that first time I called him "my bunkie", his expression was priceless. But then he was such a good sport about it and the name stuck, so much so that when I ran into him at ISBN( International Standard Book Number)office in Lagos, I excitedly screamed "bunkie" without thinking. That outburst got us strange stares though. He had a knack for giving people nicknames as well, he used to refer to me as "Scholes" the one time Manchester United player or "madam".  He was fun, sociable and so alive.

Truly "the ground don chop better things"

Rest in peace my bunkie.

First Contact: Your bank in your pocket.

 The cashless society has come to stay although we seem to be undecided on how best to move forward what with this new reintroduction of ATM usage fees of N65 by the CBN governor Godwin Emefiele. I don't think this new service charge is going to aid the financial inclusion policies, I mean if I'm going to pay service charge for using my card at outlets not my parent banking institution which will include everywhere that you use POS services these days, which is everywhere, I might as well use my cash directly. Anyway, one of the telecommunications network came up with an innovative way to use the cashless society by introducing a new product that will  help to take the awareness drive of the financial inclusion even to the grassroots level and create more jobs.  I was privileged to be part of the presentation through a stage play tagged "CARRY GO"Your bank in your pocket written and directed by the amazing Israel Eboh. Needless to say I was ecstatic about the project. Incidentally I got to play my glamorous younger sister. The character description was fully her and I guess a bit of me but with her name. It was uncanny. Now, I get people referring to me as Itoro which is actually my real life younger sister's name. yeah uncanny!The experience was fantastic. Beautiful energetic dancers, equally energetic, funny and ebullient actors all warmly wrapped in music that everyone else seemed to know except me and I used to think I was a connoisseur of old school music. Oh well, I conquered it eventually. This project presented many firsts for me on different levels. I'll talk about it another time. I met very interesting unique individuals. Isioma Williams the gentle head traditional drummer with a voice that can melt a diamond and there was the multitalented actor/dancer Barr Ugo Obaiyo who always seems to have a smile and a helping hand. And others that require no elaborate introduction...Saeed Funkymallam, Okey Onyegbule aka Okey Bakassi, Aunty Kenny...There's too much untapped talent in Nigeria. Really. Rehearsals were at the National Council of Arts and Culture NCAC which presently looks like a neglected, abandoned first wife(we need to take care of our facilities; 'if we don't, who will'?) performance at the luxurious Eko hotel and suites. I have discovered that performances can go one of two ways: bad in which case you come down exceptionally drained and depressed or great, in which case you come down high. The performance was great. Backstage was even more fun.  I finally got to meet my lookalike the lovely singer Ego Ogbaro who thrilled the crowd with back to back hits. People always claim we lookalike( I guess it's due to our very prominent signature cheekbones)we should probably act awesome sisters some day.

Ebola: Naija no wan carry last

 'Naija no dey carry last' . I don't know the person that coined that saying but whoever she was, she must have studied Nigerians forensically because she hit the nail on the head. Ever since the Ebola outbreak, the frenzy that has enflamed Nigerians about this particular disease has no close second in my opinion yet. What with the whole salt drama that claimed its own victims, the mad rush for hand sanitizers which can be found in almost every shop and offices now, the prices off the chains, by the way, hand sanitizers are basically anti-bacterial while Ebola is a virus not a bacteria, the no contact policy of everybody now... That reminds me, have you noticed how kind God has been? Since the outbreak, the weather has been cool. What if it had happened during the hot season when everyone is sweating profusely? This is the tropics after all, it would have been catastrophic.
Today I went to do some business at the bank, on getting there I met a queue. I thought it was the usual door drama but as it turned out, the poor door was not at fault today. The queue was for Ebola scanning. We all lined up to be scanned and after passing the scanning test, we had to wash our hands in chlorine water first before we could proceed to meet the door phase. Something positive out of this? well, rest of mind for the day. At least you passed Ebola scanning today, you don't have it.
Okay, after my business with that particular bank, I went in to a shopping mall to get toiletries, again my hands were sanitized and so was the handle of the shopping cart. After my shopping,I had to do another banking, the second bank had no scanner just sanitizer, again I sanitized my hands( at this point I'm thinking to myself that I'll soon loose some of my epidermis or develop dry scaly hands or something in that area, already the current weather has not been very nice on the skin, the loss of  surface lipids due to the cold weather and the constant hot showers one is taking now because of the cold have all connived to rob one of surface moisture and now these sanitizers...That aside, I'm wondering how long business owners will continue to bear the mass sanitizing expense. But one thing is for sure Naija have not carried last in agitating over this Ebola outbreak even though it might be too little too late. I mean Ebola did not just miraculously surface in 2014. It's been around since 1976 and 'no be say na oyibo man sickness oh'. It was discovered first in Sudan, one would have thought that that would be a concern to Africans but obviously it wasn't as it turns out that others that might not have been directly involved were the ones carrying out research and had an answer when it affected them.
I read an appeal made by some people begging the US government to give us drugs and I was truly saddened, not because they were waiting for us to grovel first but because we had again told the outside world that we were incapable of caring for ourselves and will always need aid.

How do you heal a wound you've not recognised?

 My aunt told a story of someone who was shot at Ijesha market but ran all the way home to Lawanson without realising he'd been shot. He fainted when a family member pointed out the gunshot wound to him. It got me thinking: what if no one had pointed the wound out to him, what would have happened?
I recalled a personal incident that occurred on my matriculation day; after the whole formalities at the senate building, I got on a bike-bikes were our only means of transportation within and without the school environs, well unless you had your personal car which I didn't obviously- when we got on the short bridge over the infamous Otamiri river that we were constantly being warned never to venture near as it had the capacity to recognise non indigenes and whisk them away,the bike had a head on collision with a car.

At first I thought my head had been severed from my body, I was guessing my body was somewhere else going on its own because I couldn't feel it. Too much Tom and Jerry influence probably. Anyway, the driver of the car came out to fight the bike man and there was a raucous of noise. I touched my head gingerly and it was still there and I felt fine, normal, so I got back on the same bike that had almost ended my undergraduate journey before it began. I think I was in slow motion till I got to the hostel. Didn't speak to anyone, got on my bunk and slept immediately. A roomie woke me and asked why I was sleeping on my matric day while the fun was going on outside, that was when I broke out in cold sweat and fever, I was shivering so much I thought the up bunk will fall off. Thankfully, she left after the appropriate 'sorry o' when I said I wasn't feeling good. But then her question made me cry and rehash the whole incident in my head. What if she had not woken me and asked the question? Would I have cried? I'm supposedly a strong girl, I've often heard people refer to me as "ice goddess"

Therein lies my point.

Recently I've come across some 'strong people' who are so tightly coiled they're almost brittle. I recognise some of them because it seems like i'm looking at aspects of myself in them. Living in an environment where strength is expected of you has its perks and challenges like Ignoring all forms of pain.
In pharmacology we learnt about a group of hormone-like lipid compounds that have important functions in the animal body. Prostaglandins. They sensitize the spinal neurons to pain and transmit information to the brain amid a whole lot of other functions. They ring the alarm bell to let us know something is wrong so we can handle it. However,a particular drug, Aspirin which is often used as an analgesic to relieve minor aches and pains, as an antipyretic to reduce fever, and also used long-term, at low doses, to help prevent heart attacks, strokes, and blood clot formation blocks the pathway of Prostaglandins synthesis. This is a good thing as pain is not felt, but, continued long use of it can cause non-stop bleeding as it stops blood from clotting altogether which is another kettle of fish.

Prof Dora Nkem Akunyili through my eyes.

 When I heard about Professor Dora Akunyili's death I was stunned. I didn't realize I had loved her so, being hugely inspired by her was a given. I loved her confidence and energy; she had so much and excess to spare.

I remember once when she was interviewed on a night time programme on one of the local National TV stations: there were two male interviewers and she was seated between them on what looked either like a round or an oval table. I recall thinking that the sitting arrangement was done purposefully to box her in and maybe intimidate her a little. It probably wasn't, but, it appeared that way to me. It didn't work. I loved the way she would smile-it was as if she was goading them and saying bring it on' and say "thank you" before answering a rude or particularly intrusive question. They couldn't floor her, she was over prepared and didn't mince words. Very rapid words, I daresay, the very best of rappers would be impressed. In fact the interviewers came out looking so puny and flustered. She was amazing. It's not a wonder in 2006 she was awarded one of the eighteen heroes of our time by Time Magazine- oh and the awards came in torrents- This particular episode has stayed with me for a long time so much so that when I was getting ready for my project defense and my supervisor told me not to keep quiet, no matter the questions thrown at me by the lecturers, I immediately thought of her and that particular interview. She was a great influence. The numerous accolades which she so deserved that where awarded her are a testament of how good can triumph over evil.
When she was the Minister of Information and communication, although a brief stay, she brought the slogan: Nigeria Good People, Great Nation, she worked tirelessly to clean our image which didn't seem like much though,"the dirt that accumulates on the pot that firewood has been fuel for years does not break with ordinary soap"

Then she went into politics.

Now, even though I'm cautious with my emotions towards the political class although I tend to lean more to the side of distrust, I was reticent to mistrust her, I thought that just as she had been able to staunchly bring sanity to the pharmaceutical jungle in the country in just 7 years, she would do same in Anambra state. I don't think I was alone in this believe but alas it wasn't to be as she lost out to Chris Ngige in the senatorial race. Same Ngige who according to baba had come with his mentor another Chris to his office in Abuja and confessed they'd rigged the elections to get him Ngige into office. Err... Isn't it amazing how people commit public crimes in this country and not just go Scot free but also rub it in our faces and continue holding different offices and be revered as kingmakers? One person will be a governor, later a senator, later a minister, later an ambassador and back to governor.... and all the while leaving behind trails of crimes and misdemeanour, yet no one questions him? I've always wondered why we keep recycling the same people and names. Ever since I became conscious I've been hearing the same names in public office and it's not that they were particularly helpful to the people or extraordinary during their tenures. Don't they say "you do not change the winning formula? If this formula hasn't obviously worked, why haven't we changed it? Sigh. Well, back to Mrs Dora. She was extraordinary and made a girl see that it was possible to be as great as you want to be regardless of your gender. Adieu great woman.

My Journey with Obele and The Storyteller..........2

Work began in earnest.Friendships were quickly established and like I had predicted one of the situations unfolded. The lines merged and disappeared altogether albeit too soon for me in particular, I spent a greater part of my first week bitching to my roomie; the super talented and so loveable Ifybrown Monye about over familiarity -the poor girl tire for me- but then as in all things about most Nigerians, I adjusted. Yes, about Nigerians, something very intriguing happened in the first week we moved into the hotel, our new Namibian friend came to the room one day to complain about dust in the rooms, said she was having allergies to the dust, and other things and was going to a spa for therapy of some sort(I used to think allergies were a foreign ailment, not for Africans although after this encounter I had to just specify not for Nigerians), I recall exchanging glances with Ify.I did that a lot in the beginning because I couldn't decipher her language, Ify had caught on to her accent faster luckily for all of us. However, in this case, the exchanged looks wasn't because I did not understand her, the contrary was the case.You see in Nigeria we have become so accustomed to hardship that we take it for granted, we don't even realize we are suffering anymore, we adjust to and ride out all forms of storms that are directed at us. Allergies ko, spa ni. When last did you see a Nigerian faint or hear about it? rather we hear about people who just slump and die. Why? because they weathered so much hardship till the body simply expired of its own accord. But I digress...truth is, we didn't know we should be having allergies or discomforts because of  the starless hotel. When we knew, we met administration who did all they could -the Nigerian situation allowing- to make us comfortable. Good directors are unexpendable . They can point an actor in the direction of that wow factor. We had a good director.Israel Eboh. This would be my first time of meeting and working with him but his fame preceded him and that of others like Mr Dance himself who was the tallest with the Longest name that I have to shorten for my own pleasure Anthony Offiong, Frank Konwea and Uche Onah..
Then I met this most humble,warm and diplomatic producer whose heart of gold can be seen on her beautiful face Bikiya Graham Douglas. So eloquent. Been in her presence you can't help but feel like you're in the presence of royalty. Reminded me of a physics lecturer I had in the university Professor Eze who made us all want to ace Physics not for ourselves alone but to make him proud because he hadn't seen it as an inconvenience to teach freshers and had never made us feel inadequate but rather was so truthful and encouraging that we just wanted to do well to justify his faith in us.

 I had some personal reservations about some of  the cast from the beginning but two people absolutely astounded and shamed my thoughts. Anthony: I came with an albatross on my shoulders about 'Veterans' and 'fine boys' and he fell under both. The first time I saw him, I thought to myself "behold the peacock" but he turned out to be everything but all I had assumed he would be.He was truly humble. He it was who had the patience to teach everyone else their dance steps even though he was not obliged to, he it was who gave and demonstrated the best workouts to help us feel our joints again after the rehearsals, humbly made and served us cocktails, had our backs when Uche wanted to have our heads for not giving him his movements back perfectly, he was never too tired to be of assistance to any one although in retrospect I wish he had been  then he won't have brought up that early morning jogging. There is a time in the morning when sleep is sweetest, he stole that part. I forgive him though. And there was the ladies teddy bear,the  amazing medicine man Princewill Emanuel........