IF SO, DOXOLOGY!

 

I was thinking this morning... Only a handful of people born after 1970 will truly appreciate the expression, “If so, doxology!”

In the 70s and 80s, when secondary school boys were aspiring Shakespeareans and romance was conducted through handwritten letters, there was a peculiar language of love.

First, instead of writing an address, the young lover would simply write “Ditto.” Then came the masterpiece:

My Dearest Sweetheart,
This is the calligraphy of Wey Mey, written with the golden pen of love from the bottomless pit of my heart.

How are you and your entire household? I hope you are swimming in the ocean of good health? If so, doxology!

Yours forever in the garden of love,

Wey Mey.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.

Those Xs were not multiplication signs. They represented kisses! Na wa o! Our fathers were not the only ones who knew how to express love.

Although I never wrote such letters, I was always fascinated by “If so, doxology.” I neither understood what it meant nor bothered to find out. After all, who needed a dictionary when love was doing the talking?

Last week, a colleague resurrected this ancient correspondence during a conversation, and my curiosity was awakened.

I discovered that doxology comes from two Greek words: doxa, meaning glory or praise, and logos, meaning word or expression. Essentially, it is an expression of praise to God.

So, those young lovers were actually saying, “If you are well, glory be to God!” Imagine that! Theology hidden inside teenage romance!

As I reminisced, I wondered how many marriages today owe their existence to those beautifully exaggerated love letters. Some people probably married because somebody promised them an ocean of affection with neither canoe nor life jacket!

It certainly wasn't my strategy for winning the heart of my young wife. Perhaps it worked for others. If so, doxology!

Since I wasn't particularly gifted in the art of romantic calligraphy, I channelled much of my energy into building my professional career.

Last Friday, I was honoured with the award of Professional Fellowship by the Nigerian Environmental Society (NES). As I stood during the induction, I reflected on my professional journey and the many people, opportunities, challenges and experiences that have shaped it.

Truthfully, titles have never been my motivation. I have always believed that the value of a professional is measured less by the letters after their name and more by the difference they make.

Nevertheless, this recognition is deeply appreciated. I hope the Fellowship will further strengthen my commitment to environmental stewardship, sustainability and mentoring the next generation of environmental professionals.

And if it does, doxology!

You see, the more I reflect on that forgotten expression, the more I realise that those secondary school boys, perhaps unknowingly, were teaching us something profound.

Life is full of “if so” moments.

If your family is healthy, doxology!

If your children are making progress, doxology!

If your years of labour are being recognised, doxology!

If you have survived challenges that once appeared insurmountable, doxology!

And even when things have not turned out exactly as planned, there is still something for which to be grateful. As the Bible reminds us in 1 Thessalonians 5:18, “In every thing give thanks.”

Perhaps it is time we resurrected this beautiful expression, not necessarily in love letters, but in our everyday conversations. Because behind every achievement is a story of grace, and behind every testimony is a reason to give thanks.

As for me, from the days of youthful dreams in Warri to this latest professional recognition, I can only look back and say:

If so, doxology!

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

WHEN LIFE REASSIGNS THE OFFICERS

 

I was thinking this morning.... A couple of days ago, I stumbled on this photograph and it stirred up a deep feeling of nostalgia. It was taken almost 25 years ago at my traditional wedding ceremony.

A few years before then, about eight of us friends had organised ourselves into a group and started calling ourselves “Officers.”

Someone who didn't know us might have thought we belonged to some arm of the military or law enforcement. After all, wetin eight young men dey call themselves Officers for? 😂

We were neither appointed nor elected public officers. We were simply Chief Executive Officers in our own small corners. It was a social group built around friendship, brotherhood and supporting one another whenever the need arose. We were young, ambitious and just beginning our working lives.

Those years were memorable. I was the youngest and eventually the last Officer to get married. And then, as they say, life began to life. Marriage came. Children arrived. Responsibilities multiplied. Careers demanded more. Everybody began pursuing that proverbial greener pasture.

Gradually, our frequent gatherings became less frequent. Two Officers got better opportunities in Lagos and left Warri. Years later, my own greener pasture carried me to Rivers State. Sadly, one of us was eventually called to eternity. May the Lord continue to rest his soul.

Almost 25 years have passed since the Officers gathered to support me at my wedding. Yesterday, I called some of them, and we reminisced about those beautiful Warri years. The laughter, the friendship, the struggles and the dreams we shared.

And something struck me.

No quarrel separated us. No disagreement broke the group. Nobody officially resigned from the Officers. Life simply reassigned us.

New cities. New careers. New families. New friendships. New responsibilities. New circles.

As Warri people would say, “River no dey flow straight, but e still dey reach where e dey go.”

Sometimes we feel guilty that we are no longer as close to old friends as we once were. But perhaps not every friendship is meant to remain physically close forever. Some people belong permanently to a chapter of our lives even when life moves us into another chapter.

So, if an old photograph suddenly reminds you of people with whom you once shared beautiful moments, don't just smile and scroll past. Make the call.

Twenty-five years may have passed, but you may discover that beneath all the distance, responsibilities and grey hairs, the friendship is still there, waiting for someone to say:

“Officer, how you dey?”

"A friend loves at all times" says Proverbs 17:17.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

THE TEARS WE SEE AND THE BATTLES WE DON’T

 

I was thinking this morning.... Recently in church, a member approached me after Sunday service and requested five minutes of my time. What followed was a story that left me thinking long after our conversation.

She narrated how a neighbour had persistently harassed her, insulting and opposing her at every opportunity. “I honestly don't know what I have done to her,” she lamented.

Then, one day, the neighbour took something that didn't belong to her. When she confronted her, the woman ran straight to their landlord, crying and reporting that she had been insulted. The landlord, a father figure to both of them, summoned her and instructed her to apologise.

We see one person crying and conclude that the other person must be fine. We hear one person's story and pronounce judgment before the other person even opens their mouth. But who told us that the person smiling has no problems?

Some people cry loudly. Others cry silently. Some wear their troubles on their faces. Others package theirs neatly inside a three-piece suit, complete with a matching tie! As we say in Warri, “Na who open mouth talk im own, people dey know say e get problem.”

But silence is not the absence of suffering. And while compassion for someone going through difficult times is commendable, their pain should never become a licence to mistreat others. You can acknowledge someone's struggles without dismissing the hurt they have caused another person. You can show mercy without abandoning fairness.

And perhaps that is where many of us fail as parents, leaders, pastors, landlords and friends. We rush to settle disputes without first seeking to understand them.

The loudest voice gets our attention. The first tears get our sympathy. Meanwhile, the quiet person walks away carrying two burdens: the original hurt and the injustice of not being heard. Before you judge the person who isn't crying, remember that some of the heaviest battles are fought behind the brightest smiles. Proverbs 18:17 reminds us: “The first one to plead his cause seems right, until his neighbor comes and examines him.”

May God give us the wisdom to listen beyond the tears, the patience to hear both sides, and the compassion to recognise that everyone is fighting a battle we may know nothing about. Because the absence of tears does not mean the absence of pain.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

THE MYSTERY OF THE MISSING REMOTE

I was thinking this morning.... Have you noticed that nothing can unite a Nigerian family in prayer, investigation and accusation quite like a missing TV remote control?

I got home recently from work, sank into my sofa and reached for the side stool where I usually keep the remote. Alas, it wasn't there. I checked the centre table, on top of the sofa and the usual suspects. Nothing. As the search intensified, I remembered an experience many years ago in Warri.

After waiting for hours for NEPA to bring light, they finally behaved. Television was ready, electricity was available, but the remote had disappeared.

“Who used the remote last?” Nobody knew.

“Who was watching TV before NEPA took light?” Everybody suddenly developed amnesia.

We checked the sofa, lifted cushions, looked under the centre table and behind the curtains. One person quickly declared, “Daddy, I have not even watched TV today!”

Before long, investigation don turn accusation. Then, after about fifteen minutes, somebody found the remote buried inside the same sofa we had searched several times.Chai!

As Warri people might say, “Wetin you dey find for Sokoto fit dey inside your shokoto.”

That remote reminded me of life. Sometimes we travel far searching for what God has already placed close to us. We search for happiness, fulfilment, opportunity, validation and peace, while overlooking our family, abilities, relationships and opportunities already within reach.

Sometimes, what you are desperately searching for is not missing. Perhaps you are simply looking in the wrong place. Jesus said in Luke 17:21, “the kingdom of God is within you.”

Before you begin another long search, check the sofa again.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

HOW I BECAME MY EXTRA LUGGAGE

 

I was thinking this morning.... On my way back from my long trip recently, I packed my bags, or perhaps “stuffed” is the better word, and headed for the check-in counter. My suitcase landed on the scale: 3kg overweight.

“Sir, you’ll need to reduce the weight or pay $100.”

What! $100 for ordinary 3kg? Haba! I stepped aside and transferred a few items into my carry-on. Problem solved, or so I thought. Back at the counter, my suitcase was now fine, but my carry-on had become 4kg overweight.

“Sir, you can’t take this onboard. You’ll have to check it in for $150 or reduce the weight.”

Chai! From $100 to $150. These people were determined to collect something from me. I stepped aside again, opened both bags and began Operation Reduce Weight. Then I spotted a blazer and a sweater. Eureka!

I wore the blazer over my T-shirt and the sweater over the blazer. Looking like someone travelling from Canada straight to Antarctica, I returned to the scale. 23.7kg.

The attendant looked at me, perhaps with pity, perhaps wondering what kind of fashion statement I was making and said, “I’ll ignore the extra 0.7kg.” Phew!

As I walked towards my gate, something struck me. Overweight checked luggage? No. Overweight carry-on? No. Overweight passenger? Yes!

Laslas, the total weight entering the aircraft had not changed. The blazer and sweater were still travelling. I was still travelling. Nothing had disappeared. The problem was not really the weight. It was where the weight was located.

And perhaps life is sometimes like that. We spend so much energy trying to eliminate every burden when what we really need is to redistribute it. Some responsibilities cannot be thrown away; they simply need to be carried differently. Some loads become manageable when shared. Some problems become lighter when placed in the right hands. As the Bible says in Galatians 6:2, “Bear ye one another’s burdens.”

Sometimes, the answer is not less weight. It is better weight distribution. Abeg make I plan to waka today, maybe I can redistribute some of the weight from my belle to other parts of my body.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

IT'S A LIE

 

I was thinking this morning.... Days ago, I was rushing through an international airport to catch a flight. I had less than two hours to sort out my luggage, clear security and find my gate. My boarding pass was in my email, so I needed WiFi. I selected the airport network and entered my email. Then came that familiar little box: “I have read and agree to the Terms and Conditions.”

Without thinking, I ticked it. Boom! Connected.

As I hurried towards my gate, something suddenly dropped in my spirit. Weyimi, you just lied! Lie ke? How? “You said you had read the Terms and Conditions.”

Jesu!!! I hadn't even opened them!

That got me thinking. Could this be the most commonly told lie in modern history? You open a social media account, tick. Banking app, tick. Hotel WiFi, tick. Online shopping, tick. “I have read and agree to the Terms and Conditions.”

My brother, you didn't read jack!

I remember once actually opening one. Seventeen pages appeared! By page one, my spirit was willing but my flesh was weak. I quietly pressed “Back” and ticked the box. Case closed.

But then the troubling thought came: the Bible says we should put away lying. So what happens to all of us professional Terms-and-Conditions tickers? 😄

Perhaps the bigger lesson isn't really about those 17 pages. It's about how easily we can become comfortable saying something is true simply because everybody does it. Little compromises have a way of becoming normal when repeated often enough. As Warri people might say, lie wey everybody dey talk no go suddenly become truth.

Next time that little box appears, I may actually open the Terms and Conditions. Whether I will finish reading them is another matter entirely! Ephesians 4:25 says “Therefore, putting away lying, let each one of you speak truth with his neighbour.”

In the meantime, I decided to visit the Warri dambadamba Lake, a serene enough location for me to ask God for mercy for the innocent lies we sometimes tell.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

THE NIGERIAN QUEUE OLYMPICS

 

I was thinking this morning.... I was to make a long-haul trip recently and arrived at the airport early enough. After about an hour of waiting, an announcement was made that pre-boarding was commencing. To my surprise, I noticed quite a number of people requesting assistance. It was a long line of wheelchairs. “What's going on here?” I wondered.

After those requiring assistance had been pre-boarded, the rest of us were called for general boarding. Chai! It was as if somebody had fired the starting pistol for the Nigerian Queue Olympics.

Immediately, there was a rush towards the boarding gate. One queue became two. Two became three, with each branch claiming to be the authentic queue. Eventually, when the genuine queue was established, Phase Two began, Creative Queue Jumping.

A young man walked straight ahead of me, entered the line and announced, “She's my mother,” pointing to the woman in front of me. Ah! What could I say? Will I separate mother and child?

I was still shaking my head when another person entered behind me. “We're together,” she said. Together ke? From what I had observed, their “togetherness” started only about twenty minutes earlier when they struck up a casual conversation. Apparently, friendship in Nigeria now comes with queue-jumping privileges. At that point, I realised that queue jumping in Nigeria is not an act. It is a skill.

There is also the famous “I was here before” technique. The person disappears for thirty minutes, returns and expects the queue to remember him.

And my favourite is the "wayo" technique where  the person stands beside the queue pretending not to be joining. Small small, he moves forward until, by divine arrangement, he has entered the queue.

Chai! Na only VAR remain.

Later, while waiting to board the aircraft, I noticed one of those who had earlier used a wheelchair get up and walk briskly towards the restroom. For a moment, my Nigerian mind went straight to suspicion: Ah-ah! So na strategy? But I cautioned myself. Not every disability is visible, and some people who require airport assistance can still walk short distances.

Still, the whole experience got me thinking. Why are we always in such a hurry to get ahead? At traffic lights, someone must squeeze past everybody. At supermarket checkouts, somebody suddenly has “only one item.” Even in church, when they say, “Please come out row by row,” one brother from the back is already receiving revelation to move forward.

But a queue is actually one of society's simplest tests of character. Waiting your turn simply says, “Your time is as valuable as mine.” It says, You came before me, so you should be served before me.

Perhaps the gold medal in the Nigerian Queue Olympics should therefore go, not to the person who finds the smartest way to reach the front, but to the one who patiently waits his turn. Because as we say for Warri: “If everybody wan enter door at once, na doorway go suffer.”

Sometimes, the fastest way for everybody to move forward is simply for everyone to wait their turn. 1 Corinthians 14:40 says “Let all things be done decently and in order.”

So next time you see me patiently standing in a Nigerian queue, abeg don't mistake it for weakness. I'm training for the Olympics. And this time, I intend to win gold without jumping the queue.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey