Marianne Williamson (1996)

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Impatience...17/08/09

Yesterday evening on the bus from Ibadan, something bizarre happened.
I had gone to visit Grandma and soon afterwards to Kush’s place. From there, we went on to Sir K’s place in the Eleyele-Ringroad axis area of Ibadan. I met some of my egbons that I had not seen in a while.

I boarded bus from the site of the old toll gate and there was a pregnant woman on board as well.

Barely 5 mins into the journey, the driver stopped the bus for her to urinate. About 20mins into the journey, she started contracting…

Trust my naija people, various suggestions from the different passengers. While some wanted her to seek medical attention at Oke-ogun, others suggested Sagamu or Mowe-Ibafo.

She alongside her husband just wanted to get to Lagos. We got to Oke-ogun close to Sagamu but there was no hospital in sight.

Driver, speed up and let us get to Berger as fast as possible and she would be able to get adequate medical attention there. That was the consensus that the passengers reached.

Just before we got to Ibafo, she started contracting seriously and there was this kind old woman attending to her.

The next minute, still in the moving 18-seater bus, I heard the sound of a baby. I tried to fight the realization that a baby had been born.

Indeed, a baby girl had just been born.

We got to Ibafo about 5 minutes later and we went looking for a new packet of blade for the old woman to sever the umbilical cord.
We continued our journey to Lagos about 25mins later.
The woman and her male companion alighted at Berger and seconds later were lost into the receding Berger night lights.

I caught a glimpse of the impatient baby girl and as I write this, I really think she should be christened Impatience.

Yaradua 101: How Not To Be a President.

President Umaru Yaradua has been described by different people as a very gentle, unassuming, down-to-earth man with a very large heart.
However, He is still in a race against time not to go down in history as the worst President, the Federal Republic of Nigeria has ever had.
A President is supposed to have a sound body and presence of mind. S/He is someone who should be able to make split-second decisions in the best interest of his wards.
Oftentimes, prospective candidates jostling for the Presidency of a Club, Society or Country have chosen prospective Vice-Presidents based on derivable bloc of votes they can get from people perceived to be different. Prospective Vice-Presidents are often docile and are supposed to be easily manipulated.
Presidents most times do not trust their Vice-Presidents and oftentimes fear they are going to be overshadowed if they give their Vice-Presidents a free hand to operate.
Below are some tips on how not to be a President.
1. Yaradua is an adult. Nobody made up his mind to run with Goodluck Jonathan on the same ticket. If He didn’t think Goodluck was capable to step into the shoes of the President at anytime, He shouldn’t have run on the same ticket with him.
Lesson 1: Be a man of yourself. Don’t be misled into taking a decision that you cannot defend or stand up for.
2. Yaradua could have shopped for a VP he could trust with the Presidency if the need arises. Jonathan was not the only southerner that He could have paired with according to the arrangement of the PDP.
Lesson 2: Trust your VP/Deputy wholeheartedly.
3. Yaradua should never have promised what He couldn’t deliver on. Yaradua promised Nigerians ‘rule of law’. His actions/inactions have pushed the country into a constitutional crisis.
As an apostle of the supremacy of the law, albeit the constitution, He failed woefully.
Lesson 3: You don’t preach something and do something else or act unconcerned when what you stand for is being rubbished by your aides.
4. As the president, the buck stops at Yaradua’s table. No flip flops. Indecisiveness is one of the hallmarks of the Yaradua administration.
Lesson 4: As a leader, the buck stops at your table. You can delegate authority to your aides but you take responsibility for whatever they do.
5. When Yaradua’s sickness became more apparent, he could have relinquished power to his deputy, long before his condition deteriorated to the abysmal level where he wasn’t in control of himself again. A little more faith and respect for his deputy would have forced his overbearing aides to respect Goodluck as well.
Lesson 5: Know when to quit when the ovation is loudest. Yaradua’s success handling the Niger-Delta Amnesty package was already endearing him to Nigerians again.

6. Politics has elements of show Business. A President in a democratic dispensation must always be visible, for in him, the state is embodied. There should be information flow about the President at all times. There has to be a real interface with the people. Yaradua was virtually inaccessible to People during his spell as a functional President and totally inaccessible when He became incapacitated.
Lesson 6: AS a President, never be inaccessible to people who voted you into power.

Calling on my President on behalf of Haiti…

A few minutes ago, I had to put off the television. I just couldn’t watch the suffering of my fellow human compatriots in Haiti.
I come from South West Nigeria. In all the major cities that I have been to in South Western Nigeria, Abeokuta, Ibadan, Lagos, Osogbo, etc., I know there are a lot of skilled artisans who can effectively handle heavy machinery for buiding purposes.
Every morning including Saturdays and Sundays, I see most of these men and women around major motor parks or in some cases at designated places where contractors who need their services go to meet them in the morning and negotiate for their services.
These men and women run into thousands and possibly millions.
In 48 hours from now, enough machinery and men could be scored from the nooks and crannies of Nigeria. Each state government could be given the task of getting 20men, a total of 720 men ready to move to Haiti to assist in the ongoing Rescue Operation going on in the devastated country.
The Nigerian Army I believe should have the capability to mobilize up to a thousand men to join other security forces in maintaining peace and order in Haiti if the need arises.
What Haiti needs most right now is machinery and workers who can operate them. Nigeria has both in abundance.
With all due respect Mr. President Yaradua and Vice-President Goodluck Jonathan and all Nigerian State Governors, this is a window of opportunity to redeem the image of Nigeria that has been soiled in the comity of nations. Act now before this window slips away.
Haiti needs us!

4Rm GIRNE TO 9gErIa

Departure (July 11, 2009. 1615hrs)
As Peace my travelling partner and I boarded the shuttle bus waving to our friends who were waving us goodbye, the reality that I was finally going to Nigeria after a long time dawned.
Thoughts of similar departure scenes for the victims of the two air-crashes: Air France and Yemeni Airlines came to my mind. Some of them would have waved goodbye to their loved ones and some more of them would have called ahead to their loved ones to await their arrival at their point of disembarkment.
All the way to Ercan Airport and after boarding the plane, I was still empathizing with those who had lost their loved ones in those ill-fated flights.
As the plane taxied and took off into the skies, it was time for confessions of sins. What could have gone wrong with those flights? What could have caused the malfunction of those planes? It beats me.
As the place touched down at the Istanbul Ataturk Airport in Istanbul, Turkey, people started clapping, joyful and thankful for a safe flight.

TRANSIT 1: ISTANBUL ATATURK AIRPORT, ISTANBUL.
Our connecting flight to Amsterdam was not going to take off until 5:55am the next morning. We got on the queue to clear Immigration. The Immigration Officer on duty brought out his magnifying glass and checked our Nigerian passports thoroughly. That was something he did not do for the others who preceded us. He checked the bio-data and visa pages one ‘mm’ at a time for any sign that we had tampered with the passport somewhat. After a while, he let us go.
How do we pass the time and not get bored before our early morning flight out of Istanbul? Peace and I decided to take a walk round the airport and we ended up boarding the bus to Taxim at the heart of Istanbul. The crowd at Istanbul is same to what you will see at Idumota in Lagos some years ago. Not even in Central London would you find such a thronging crowd.
We had a cub of roasted corn each before we went looking into the shops and came out with some nice stuff. We got tired and went back to Taxim Square where we sat down on the steps and were talking about stuffs. After a while we headed to the café so that I could make a call to someone.
We boarded the Airport Shuttle around 12:30am back to the Airport. The parts of Istanbul we went through were beautiful. Old buildings interspersed with modernity dotted the whole area. I would love to go back soon.
At about 1:30am, we got back to the Ataturk Airport, got confused at the local terminal and finally found our way to the International Terminal and the storage facility where we stowed our luggage before we ventured into town.

TRANSIT II: Schipol Airport, Amsterdam (July 12, 2009 0820hrs)
At about 2:30am, we checked in our luggage, Peace, Abutu and I at the KLM Counter A22. From the storage facility, I got a porter who carted my luggage for me. He wanted me to give him Abutu in exchange. He was a crooked dirty old man who should go home and die in peace. What a fool! Do I look like Abutu’s father?
My passport was checked, scrutinized, re-checked and rechecked over and over again. Finally, I was allowed into the boarding area and allowed to join my two friends who had less trouble clearing Immigration this time around. We went into the Duty Free Area and we almost missed our flight. Not until we heard our names over the loudspeakers before we started rushing to our boarding gate to board.
The flight from Istanbul became interesting towards the end because it started raining and it had been a long time since I saw rain fall.

LAGOS:ARRIVAL
The first thing I saw on arrival was the remains of a Nigeria Airways Plane. The plane we flew in from Amsterdam to Lagos was much more bigger with three aisles and good entertainment facilities. They were really giving us value for our money. Also, unlike minimal services for people in Economic class, the KLM crew went all out to make sure that everybody had enough to eat and drink and were comfortable.
At the check-out counter, we were made to wait endlessly while the immigration officials held sway. We waited and waited until they finally checked us all out.
My Uncle and Aunt drove us to a restaurant where we had a proper Naija welcome with Jollof Rice and fried Snails.
Need I say that there was no public power supply by the time we got home? They had been counting three weeks of no supply and were on generators. I would have to wait five more days to catch a 20secs glimpse of power supply.

9ja Rumbling: A Nation in Darkness.

I cultivated the habit of keeping a journal to detail the rich experiences I have been encountering from Girne to Lagos. However, militating circumstances have forced me to stop. I just couldn't keep on detailing the scenes I get to see playing themselves out as I travel in cars/buses, walk on the roads and atimes just stepping aside, watching people go by. What I see is like a movie playing out and me a dissatisfied spectator.

There is a frustration in everybody that you can almost touch. Everywhere is in darkness. I begin to wonder; how can you move forward in darkness? We seem to forget that a Nation in darkness is a nation in peril.

How can a nation that sets an unrealistic goal of being one of the top 20 economies in 10years from now not invest massively in the Power, Education and the Transport Sector?

Everywhere you go, people complain and grumble and more complains. You get to hear people proffering both workable and unrealistic solutions to the Nigerian problem.

Information flow is at its lowest ebb. Infact one can argue that information is not flowing. It took a long time for people to know that a new IG of Police had been appointed. How many even know his name?
Asides Nigerians who have access to Cyberspace, how many are informed about happenings as it happens or that affects the country?

Everything with a touch of goverment in them are in terrible states of dysfunctionality.
Nobody seems to care for the lot of the people.
The President would rather attend to his personal interests than to the welfare of the nation, leaving the country on "auto-cruise". Bo le baje, ko baje.*

Road networks are death traps. Seeing dead bodies on Nigerian highways are now common sights. Everybody just looks the other way.
Last saturday, I saw Federal Marshalls trying to arrest a driver whose boot was not properly closed while 15metres down the road, there was a bloated body of a human being.

Rail networks that can boost economic activities in the country are comatose. Officials of the NRC are content with collecting rent on properties around rail tracks than providing rail services.
There is still no reliable air transport network to all parts of Nigeria. The Murtala Mohammed Airport is now more of an eye-sore and only a tourist attraction to toddlers.

The situation currently in Nigeria makes one wonder whether contributing to Nation Development is really worth it. However, there is no other place to call home. Naija must be free from these shackles of oppression.

Who is the man to lead Nigeria from this abysmal depth of darkness, hopelessness and failure? Certainly not Yaradua.

*Bo le baje, ko baje - Yoruba expression meaning if it can[is] spoil[spoiling], I'm not bothered.

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Abiodun…the boy died: Who is to blame?Pt 4

Abiodun was lost in thought. He was sitting at the foot of the pedestrian bridge that was at Iyana Oworo with a rectangular board that held his petty wares which mainly consists of peppermint and chewing gums. How could life be so unfair he thought? Here he was at 17… Baba, e no get job…mama is pitiable…almost all his older siblings have deserted home in search of greener pastures…Could he continue living like this?

Is God cruel? How could he create some people to enjoy this life while he wallowed in poverty? How could he keep on running after cars trying to eke out a living? Add that to the daily harassment from KAI officials….hmmm…this life…

[the scampering of people around him jolted him back to consciousness...d shout of KAI!KAI!!KAI!! rented the air]

Abiodun paused, looked right and left…where should he run to?

He ran up the stairs with some others hoping that the KAI men would just grab some wares from the people that were unlucky to be caught under the bridge and then move on a bit farther and wait for the traders to come and bail out their wares.

Some of the KAI men crossed the expressway to the other side and blocked both exit of the pedestrian bridge. What was he going to do? The KAI men are now on both ends on top of the bridge. They started closing in and seizing people goods. Abiodun was confused. He wished he had Aferi* to ferry himself out of the booby trap on the bridge. Abiodun had never been trapped like that in his life. He was the only one whose goods had not been seized and the two KAI officials were closing in on him. No, they would kill me first, he thought to himself. A crazy thought formed in his head and he smiled wryly. He placed his free hand on the railings that bordered the bridge and crossed his legs over the railing. He was now standing at the edge of the bridge. Haa…e ma pa mi leni yi o**…Move any closer and I’ll jump, he said to the KAI men…the KAI men were confused. What should they do? Advance and Abiodun jumps from the bridge in front of oncoming vehicles and die or they retreat and lose face in front of the crowd that had started forming at the foot of the bridge watching the unfolding drama on top of the bridge…

What happened next?

The older of them told Abiodun to step back over the railing and that his goods will not be seized. As he made to do that, his slippers caught on the edge of the railing, the board which his petty wares was displayed tilted backward and in a bid to hold fast on to it, Abiodun jerked backwards and fell off the bridge landing on his head. The oncoming trailer simply grinded his skull and crushed his body.

*Aferi - juju that can make one disappear

**Yoruba expression meaning you will kill me today

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