A LIFE WELL SPENT

I was thinking this morning.... As my  college alumni perfected plans to accompany one of us for the burial of her mother last weekend, I took another glance at the invitation. It's been jokingly said that in Nigeria, the poor and rich announce the death of their loved ones differently. While the poor will write "With heavy hearts and deep sense of sorrow, we regret to announce the death of.....," the rich will say ''With gratitude to God for a life well spent, we heartily announce the transition to glory of....". Hmm!! Class, even in death.

But then, I couldn't but pause to ask "when can one really say a life was well spent?" Is it when a man achieves a great feat or after making a lasting impact on future generations? Some dream on becoming a big bang inventor but end up being a user rather than an inventor of gadgets. Does it mean his or her life was not well spent? Some are writers who aspire to achieve public acclaim but could only impress a small group of friends on Facebook. Does it mean the life was not well spent?

If you were born to be a blessing to others but you spent all your resources living the life of the rich and famous, adorning yourself with jewelries and reveling in choice cuisines without fulfilling purpose, your life was not well spent. If your purpose in life is to influence just one random child positively or to enable your children to be great or support a friend or boss to win, and you achieve that, then your life was well spent. Someone can live to be 100 and the life not well spent and another die at 33 but life well spent. It is not how long but how well.

You don't have to be a renowned scientist like Albert Einstein, an inventor like Steve Jobs, an accomplished writer like Chimamanda Adichie or a great man of God like David Oyedepo for your life to have been well spent. 99.99% of people on earth will not leave a dent on the universe. Someone once said, you do not disapprove of a chair because it cannot be used to boil water. A chair is not designed to boil water, so it is not a problem if it doesn't. Focus on your purpose. If you can achieve your purpose in life, then your life was very well spent. Allow God fulfil His purpose for you (Psalms 57:2).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

WHO IS ASSAULTING OUR MEAT?

 

I was thinking this morning.... A few days ago, DJ Cuppy, daughter of billionaire businessman Femi Otedola, created traffic on the Social Media platform X when she wrote 'Jollof on the Jet with Assaulted Meat.' There were a flurry of comments from fans, with some criticising her for writing 'assaulted' instead of 'assorted,' and others defending her. One particular comment, however, left me in stitches. The person had written 'Whoever assaulted the meat should be arrested immediately.' Nigeria is truly a nation of cruise.

While I am not interested in who is right or wrong, I pondered on the dilemma of assorted and assaulted meat, with the former being healthy and the later, unhealthy. When different parts of an animal is properly prepared for consumption, it is 'assorted meat.' If it is, however, prepared in an unsafe manner not fit for consumption, then it becomes 'assaulted meat.'

The other day I went to the food section of a superstore to get food for lunch. The counter was laden with colourful and appealing delicacies. I was particularly drawn to a dish of bright red and very thick cowleg. I ordered a couple along with my rice. On getting home, I struggled to bite a piece of the cowleg and had to abandon it wondering how any part of a cow can be that thick. It wasn't until the next day that my colleague revealed that a chemical called formaldehyde is what some use to make the cowleg that thick. Chai! I thought I bought assorted meat, not knowing it was 'assaulted meat.'

You visit a restaurant and are served goat meat peppersoup that is prepared like fast food. The meal is served with all orishirishi including abodi, liver, kidney, brokotor etc. You take a bite and the meat is so tender. You feel good oblivious that the caterers had used paracetamol, as tenderiser, to cook the goatmeat. You thought you were eating assorted meat? Usai! it was assaulted meat.

The consumption of 'assaulted food' is behind the recent rise in organ failure and other illnesses in Nigeria. Be mindful of where and what you eat. Merchants of death are all around posing as farmers, traders and caterers. They excuse their evil act with the economic hardship in the land forgetting the words of Matthew 18:7 - Woe to that man by whom offence comes! No peace for anyone assaulting our meat.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

REMEMBER EKPAN FLY

 

I was thinking this morning..... It was one of my periodic visits to Warri some months ago. I was craving banga soup served in native pot and contacted my sister who took me to a 'joint' at Ugbuwangue. As we drove into the spacious compound, I was surprised by the simplicity of the facility and wondered what it was that attracted so many people with exotic cars. We stepped down and was ushered to a table for five.

My team settled into the plastic chairs around the table and placed our order. As we watched the food being prepared about 20m away, we had no doubt that we will get value for money expecting nothing less than high quality cuisine. We were served drinks while we waited for our food.

After a short wait, the waiter appeared with our food. Before I could put up the sign 'Men at Work. Do Not Disturb,' I noticed some unwelcome guests. A number of flies that had been lurking around accompanied the waiter to deliver our steaming banga soup. While the waiter departed, the flies stayed back. With frantic waves of my hand, I made it clear to the flies that they weren't welcome, but they wouldn't budge. I doubled down by using the menu board, but the message I got from the flies was 'We die here.'

As my battle with the flies continued, my food was getting cold. I decided to fight both battles at the same time. Eat my food with my right hand and fend off the flies with my left. This I did until I swallowed the last ball of starch. It was a fervent finger-licking experience, after which I sat back feeling like a winner.

As I observed the flies buzzing around to have a piece of whatever was left on my plate, I recalled one of my favourite lines about someone pestering me, was 'You worry pas Ekpan fly.' Ekpan is a community in metropolitan Warri, close to Ugbuwangue. Phew! Those flies, which I am sure had migrated from Ekpan to Ugbuwangue, gave me a run for my money.

Since that raw encounter with Ekpan flies, I had learnt a lesson that persistence will always deliver value. Whenever I am getting weary of a service or a project, all I do is just remember the Ekpan flies. Refuse to be discouraged by what you are going through. Hang in there knowing that, the fact that others are succeeding does not mean you are failing. Stay the course, finish the race (2nd Tim 4:7). When you feel weary, just remember Ekpan flies.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

5000 WEEKS

 

I was thinking this morning..... Last week, I had to mentally prepare to take a commercial flight from Port-Harcourt to Abuja because of the almost five hours delay I experienced on my last trip. I did my best to delay my movement to the airport just to save some time. As I waited for the assigned driver to pick me up, I kept looking at my wristwatch with every passing minute. After about 20 minutes of waiting, I was now very anxious but then I stopped, took a deep breath and said 'Weyimi, relax! Worrying will not add a day to your 5000 weeks.'

Eventually, the driver showed up after about 30 minutes with no sense of urgency. A few minutes into the trip, I noticed he was a hyper-honker. He honks his horn at cars, okada, pedestrians and I can bet that he honked at a bird that flew too close to his car. I really didn't understand why he was so impatient because I was the one catching a flight and I never gave him the impression I was running late. Having advised myself earlier on, I was very patient observing him and wondering how his impatience will add to his 5000 weeks.

We arrived at the airport just as the aircraft that will take me to Abuja touched down. As we taxied to take-off at exactly the advertised time, I regretted the hours I spent dreading an extended airport delay that was not to be. All my fear and worry was for nothing and did not add a day to my 5000 weeks.

5000 weeks or about 96 years is how long a very old man spends on earth. Life is like being in traffic. It doesn't matter how much you honk at people, telling them to hurry up in a traffic, it won't make the world around you go any faster. Honking reduces everyone else's quality of life without improving yours, just like being impatient doesn't take you to your goal faster, instead it can quickly burn your 5000 weeks.

Many will say the hustle is real, honking and shouting at anyone on the slow lane to shift or they will be pushed down. It might seem they are making progress not realising they are only cutting down on their 5000 weeks. I don't know how much of your 5000 weeks you have used up, but today is the beginning of another week, so relax and enjoy every second of it because fretting and stressing will not add a day to your 5000 weeks (Luke 12:25).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

A WEEK OF GOOD HEADS AND HEADLESS

 

I was thinking this morning.... As children growing up in Ogboru Street in Warri, we used to tell ourselves ridiculous jokes in pidgin English. One of such was about a young man that likes wearing hats. This young man entered a car for the first time and brought his head out of the window to feel the breeze on his face. Suddenly, a trailer truck came and brushed his head off. He didn't realise his head was off until he wanted to wear his hat. We will then end the joke in our typical fashion... 'when e wan wear the cap, e no see head again.'

Stupid, you will say, but that was what came to my mind when last Sunday, Alex Otti, governor of Abia, said 20 headless bodies were found around Lokpanta cattle market in the state. It was a sad news to comprehend as I imagined how someone's brother, father, sister or mother that went missing is now being counted among headless bodies.

On Monday morning, we woke up to the news of an explosion that had rocked the Rivers State House of Assembly Complex in Port-Harcourt as a result of political power play between father and son. With youths from both camps threatening to unleash violence, everyone started running like headless chicken. But who are these youths that are ready to sacrifice their heads for our shameless politicians? Prof Chukwuma Soludo described them as a “Headless mob."

I headed into the weekend covering my head with a hat as I visited the University of Benin, my alma mater, to attend the wedding of the daughter of my Hussey college classmate. As I watched the bride and groom dance out, I remembered that the Latin term “alma mater” means “nourishing mother." Our friend, the mother of the bride, had nourished her daughter to this point and have earned the right to dance and celebrate a good head.

It is the responsibility of parents to raise children with good heads on their shoulders because the head is a symbol of power and glory. Headless bodies and families have lost their glory. Pray for God to protect your head and the head of your family because it is only on a head you wear a crown. Without a head, there will be no crown. Proverbs 10:6 says 'Blessings are on the head of the righteous.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

My £1 Scholarship

 

I was thinking this morning..... I gained admission to the University of Benin in 1987 and was very excited as I arrived at the main gate of Ugbowo campus. My euphoria soon turned sour weeks later as I began having challenges paying all the bills. With two of us in the university, my parents were doing their best.

It was all joy, when my dad came home that sunny afternoon in August of 1988 and announced that my Scholarship by the Oil Company has been approved. We celebrated because it was a lifeline and an assurance that I will be completing my university education. The scholarship value was N1,500. Yes, One thousand, five hundred naira only.

From the N1,500, I was able to pay for my tuition, accommodation, feeding for the month and still able to send N500 back home. What was left was to be my allowance for another 3 months. I remember writing a letter back home giving account of my scholarship money. A letter that has become famous within my family, just for laughs. I had penned down amongst other words, 'I received the money and had to buy a table fan because the room is hot. I was forced to buy shirts (2). I won't be able to send back the money expected because I will not have enough. I would've soaked o, but unfortunately, my garri has finished.... Your son, Weyimi.'

That was the year 1988. Today, my siblings will laugh at me for the audacity to use the scholarship money to buy shirts. I was lost in thought on Friday when I heard a British pound sterling (£) now sells for N1,500. I imagined how my scholarship money in 1988 that we celebrated, amounts to just £1 today (the exchange rate then was N4.5 to $1).

While the equivalent of one pound today will pay my 3 years university tuition fees in 1988, it can't buy a single textbook today. The value of £1 today could feed me a whole year in 1988 but can buy a tin of sardine today. There are people that killed for N1,500 in 1988 but today, that amount (£1) can only buy a roll of toilet paper.

Do not stress, fight or kill for money, but rather strive to serve people, so you won't regret it in the process of time. Like in Gen 47:15, money will fail but your service to humanity and God will never fail. Remember my £1 scholarship.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

HANGING ON THE EDGE

 

I was thinking this morning..... Last week, while sitting at the departure hall waiting for my delayed commercial flight to Lagos, I got gisting with a colleague about the economic challenges Nigerians are facing. He told me about his medical doctor friend that recently japa'ed to the UK. Months after, the guy told him that since he left Nigeria, he no longer suffers from hypertension for which he was known. When my colleague asked what the magic cure was, his friend responded 'My bro, it was Poverty Induced Hypertension (PIH).'

Just this Friday, I received news of the father of a client of my wife who suddenly slumped in the office and died shortly after. This was a man that had frantically made so much effort in the last few months to send his children abroad for further studies. You can say he was financially okay. While I narrated the story to a colleague, his conclusion was that the man may have died of FPIH (Family Pressure Induced Hypertension).

While attending a Mental health and wellness retreat last week, we were told of workers that are afraid to go home at the close of work because of the mental torture they are bound to face from their spouses. You can say these people are suffering from MIH (Marriage Induced Hypertension).

If you have been listening to news on local and international channels recently and feeling like someone is pounding yam in your head. Quickly visit your doctor because you may be suffering from BIH (Bad-news Induced Hypertension).

Hmm! Yes, there are so many causes of stress and hypertension today compared to the time of our grandparents. It really makes me wonder whether the constant hustle is worth it. We live our lives and become tense like someone hanging on the edge and waiting to drop. PIH, FPIH, MIH, BIH or any other SIH (Self Induced Hypertension) are all triggers to pull our hands off the anchor and make us drop. Be intentional about your health and wellness because las las, most of what we are chasing and dying for are vanity (Ecclesiastes 12:8). Relax and stay off the edge.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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