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

IT'S A NIGERIAN THING

 

I was thinking this morning..... I recently read the official transcript of the deposition of Chicago State University  (CSU) official, Caleb Westberg. The lawyer to Atiku, Angela Liu, had asked whether CSU certified documents for any other person as it did for Tinubu. “No. I believe this was made because it’s more of a Nigerian thing,” said the registrar.

While a lot of emphasis has been given to the negative interpretation of 'It's a Nigerian thing,' I was pinned down by the several other behaviours of Nigerians that can make someone say 'It's a Nigerian thing.'

When children quarrel in Nigeria, the beef is usually settled with food. Have you seen Nigerian mothers eat with their children? They love to share their food with their children, regardless of if the child has had enough. What is it with Nigerian mothers and their peculiar food behaviour? Don't worry, it's a Nigerian thing.

In May of 2022, the Dean of the University of Calgary, in Alberta, Ian Holloway, had announced that nine students were graduating with Masters of Law (LLM) that year and all 9 were Nigerians, including the daughter of a friend. While a typical Oyinbo stops serious spending on their children when they turn 18, Nigerian parents will sell their prized possessions and even borrow to send their children to do Masters. Why do we do that? As I thought about it, I couldn't but conclude that it's a Nigerian thing.

Have you seen many aged parents struggling to eat in the village while their children live in affluence in the city. When they die, their children throw a lavish funeral party. If you are asking who does that, just know it's a Nigerian thing to care for the dead more than the living.

There are so many things we do that make us who we are as Nigerians. It's neither good nor bad, it's just different, just like there are different kinds of gifts (1st Cor 12:4). What is important is to be the original version of yourself and not a photocopy. Despising the uniqueness of being a Nigerian is a waste of the honour God has placed on us.

A friend asked me why I am always thinking on Sunday and I responded with 'Is anything wrong with Sunday?' If you are wondering why I answered a question with a question, don't worry, it's a Nigerian thing. So relax and enjoy another Sunday.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

PLEASE PEACE HERE

 

I was thinking this morning..... Despite Nigeria hosting the World Toilet Summit in Abuja in November 2022, Nigeria now holds the unenviable trophy of the country with the most open defecation/urination in the world, moving from 5th place in 2003 to 2nd place in 2015 and now 1st place in 2023. This is because one in four Nigerians lack access to a toilet. They therefore defecate or urinate in the open fields, drains, bushes and bodies of water.

If you live in Nigeria and grew up in the hoods, it is common to find different inscriptions at street corners and on walls saying 'Don't defecate or urinate (piss) here.' It was one of such warnings someone was meant to put up but instead wrote 'Please Don't Peace Here.' While we don't want piss, we desperately need peace.

Recently, I accompanied a friend to the car wash at Novare Mall in Lagos and was shocked at the number of young men and women at the expansive parking lot drinking alcohol and smoking weed in the open. As I observed a young man empty his bladder at the base of a tree, I felt led to go tell him 'Please do not piss here, but peace here.'

Visit some families and see the level of trouble and emotional war going on. Wife insulting the man and husband hitting the wife and you will be tempted to scream 'Please don't piss here but peace here.'

The stench from the very poor sanitary state of our streets is as strong as the economic and political stench in this country. The leaders are 'pissing' on the faces of the masses resulting in violent agitations in some quarters. At the global scale, Russian-Ukraine war is on and the Israeli-Palestian war erupted yesterday. We must hold our leaders accountable, insisting 'Please don't piss here, but peace here.'

Should anyone get under your skin and you feel pressed to release yourself, I beg you to please give piss, sorry, peace a chance. End the violence because peace is priceless. John 14:26 says 'Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

CAGE-FREE CITIZENS

 

I was thinking this morning..... I was served breakfast on-board a Delta Airlines flight recently. The breakfast pack read 'Mediterranean Breakfast Calzone (Egg & Cheese).' I turned the pack over to read the food labelling information. The major components were wheat flour, water and cage-free eggs. What exactly does cage-free eggs mean? I wondered.

How do you cage an egg? I decided to ask a friend, named Google. 'What does it mean if eggs are labeled cage-free?' I asked. Google responded 'Cage-free' refers to farm environments where chickens that produce eggs (layers) live in open indoor spaces. Overall, cage-free represents an increased quality of life for hens as compared with those held in cages.'

Wow! If cage-free represents high quality, then one can infer that poor quality is synonymous with caging. My mind drifted to a recent interview I conducted for a graduate position. The shortlisted candidates were taken through written and oral tests. While some were okay, many were just below par making one wonder if they were caged within the four walls of the university. The majority of our graduates are definitely not cage-free because their quality is so poor.

Consider the recent set of political leaders across the nation. Regime after regime, it seems things are getting worse because the quality of our politicians is dropping. Why so? I do not know, but one thing I know is that they are definitely not cage-free politicians. They must have been caged by political godfathers.

According to the World Poverty Clock, at least 71 million Nigerians are currently living in extreme poverty while another 62 million are living below the poverty line. With 63% of Nigerians having such terrible quality of life, one can conclude that most Nigerians are not cage-free citizens. The question is who caged us?

Many have been caged by fear or negative mindset, while some others are caged by marriage, religion or avarice. Nigerians have been caged by bad leadership. A sure key out of any cage is knowledge. No wonder Proverbs 4:7 says 'with all thy getting, get understanding.' What better day than today to free ourselves from all forms of cage. Be a cage-free citizen.

Happy Independence Day!

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

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

WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD

 

I was thinking this morning.... I have been travelling far and near in the last 30 years and in all my journeys I have never been left without an impression. Every trip on road, air or sea leaves an impression about how wonderful the World is and the mightiness of the creator.

In my former life as Environmental inspector for Shell, I had to travel deep into the swamp even to the edge of the Atlantic Ocean in Bayelsa and Delta States. Years later, when I did sail on a Cruise ship on the ocean so large that I couldn't see the end whichever direction I turned, I remembered the song of Louis Armstrong 'What a Wonderful World'.

Oh, what a wonderful world indeed. On my very first flight ever in 1992, I couldn't get over the thought of a giant metal suspended inside the clouds. In the vastness of the skies and looking down and seeing everything we hold dear look so tiny, my jaw dropped and like Louis Armstrong, I sang 'What a Wonderful Wooooorld'.

Some live close to or at the foot of the mountain but have never climbed to the peak. You only need to climb to the Mountain peaks of Idanre hills in Ondo state or Shere hills in Plateau State for you to shout 'What a wonderful wooooorld'

The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, Turkey is designated as one of the Seven wonders of the ancient world. It was built in 550 BC to honour Artemis, the goddess of hunting. The magnificent building took over 120 years to build and only one night to destroy! As I stood before the ruins of the temple and imagined how people kill to acquire material wealth, I whispered 'oh what a wonderful wooorld.'

Niagara falls in Canada, The Great Wall of China, Christ the Redeemer in Brazil and many others have been designated as great wonders of today. The interesting thing is that if you walk out your door, walk on the grass, watch the birds fly or simply smell the rain, then you will truly say, oh what a wonderful world we live.

It is common to hear someone say 'it's not that deep.' Overthinking your problems can lead to depression. Waking up every morning is a wonder, so relax and appreciate the simple gifts of life. Then and only then can you truly sing like Louis Armstrong 'What a Wonderful World.' Las las, in all things, give thanks (1Thes 5:18).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

LIFE IS NOT A BLAZER

 

I was thinking this morning..... I had need for a new blazer and decided to go get one from nearby boutiques. I am not talking about the old-fashioned 'coat' but a bespoke blazer. I had gone into a number of shops looking for the perfect colour, cut and size. When the few shown to me fell short of my expectations, I decided to go to Balogun market in Lagos. I was taken to a massive warehouse appropriately called 'Suit Warehouse.' The sheer number of suits in the 6-floors building was intimidating. I kept checking and trying on one blazer after another until I found the perfect one, paid and left satisfied.

As I stepped out of the shop into my car to drive off, I reflected on how finite our time on earth is and how we have just once to live. Why can't we try out 'Lives' and choose the one we want to live? Why was I not given the opportunity to choose what time or era I want to live? Why didn't I have the options to decide what continent I want to live? Why wasn't I shown different parents to decide through whom I should be born? Before another question could brew in my fertile mind, I heard a soft voice say 'Shut up. Life is not a blazer.'

Life is not a blazer that one could try on and make a 'take it or leave it' choice. We only have one shot at life and when, where and by whom is a decision taken on our behalf. Truly, life is not a blazer that you can put on or pull off at will. This life that we all are in, is the only one we'll get a shot at in this realm.

If life is not a blazer, then why does some behave otherwise? I have seen people engage domestic staff (househelp, driver or cook) and misuse, abuse and then dump them like a N2k bend-down-select (okrika) coat. Haba! That life is a precious soul and not a blazer with which you do as you please. I have also seen some persons rent out their lives like cheap articles. In the same way you can rent a wedding gown or suit, that is how some rent their bodies for money. Life is not a blazer.

We have just one life, which we should cherish, care for, protect and make the best of. Life is not a blazer. Hebrews 9:27 says 'it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

YOUR BEST MOMENT IS IN FELLOWSHIP

 

I was thinking this morning.... I had the privilege of visiting the Banff National Park recently. As I got atop the Sulfur Mountain via the Gondola enjoying the breathtaking views of the rocky mountains and turquoise glacial Lake, my heart stood still in awe of the greatness of God.

While a few individuals came alone, most people, like us, came in small groups. I scanned the faces of people around and could tell that those in groups were enjoying the best moments. Yes, someone might have come there alone to be inspired, but those that came with friends and family did not only find inspiration but also love and happiness. It led me to the conclusion that the best moments in life are in fellowship.

I remember my first time of visiting Paris years ago, I was alone. As beautiful as the City was, my experience does not compare with my visit, with friends and family, to Idanre Hills in Ondo State, Nigeria. Sharing the awe, fear and laughter with friends and family was simply divine. Truly, our best moments in life are in fellowship.

Cast your mind back to the days of the Covid-19 lockdown when we all had to join Church services online. Lack of physical connection made the virtual service feel dry like vegetable salad without cream. When we eventually resumed in-person service, it was like a big celebration. No doubt, our best moments are in fellowship, this time fellowship with fellow believers.

Why would one be 'forming' class, ignoring friends and isolating from family, believing it is the way to peace and happiness? True, there are some people one must avoid for your safety and sound mental health, but the friends and family you lose in one part, you should gain in another, because our best moments in life are in fellowship.

Do not shut people out by your attitude until they become lonely because our best moments in life are in fellowship. There is a reason God placed everyone in a family. It is for fellowship. True happiness is in sharing with and serving others and not in self aggrandisement or feeding self. Romans 12:10 says 'Be devoted to one another in love. Honour one another above yourselves.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

PULL DOWN THAT FENCE

 

I was thinking this morning.... In those days in Warri, we lived in a community without boundaries. A 'yard' where there were no fences between compounds. High fences were for the rich and those that had something to hide or so we thought. What was common was 'monkey fence.' Today, a typical community in Nigeria has buildings locked in high fences like maximum security prisons while Residential estates are like mazes with high fences separating semi-detached duplexes.

As I drove off this 'fence-less' community, I reflected on how we have voluntarily imprisoned ourselves in Nigeria. I pondered on the different kinds of fences. Though it is said that good fences make good neighbours because it prevents unnecessary invasion of one's privacy, distrust for one's neighbour is at the root of the fencing mentality. The mata don bad so tay, some energise their fences to electrocute intruders.

Beyond the physical fences, there are invisible fences. I stayed in a majority Indian community recently. Though there were no physical fences between the apartments and semi-detached duplexes but there was a cultural fence between us because I do not look or talk like them.

The 2023 general elections in Nigeria caused serious damage to our integration as a people. Due to political differences, very high energised fences were built between friends and in some cases brothers, blocking themselves on social media. All in the name of political fencing.

When a man is offended in his wife, he will refuse to speak to her. That is emotional fencing. However, when a woman is angry with her husband, she places a pillow between herself and her husband. That is not only matrimonial but also intimacy fencing.

The world today is very divided and toxic needing men of goodwill to do something. If you have a broken or strained relationship with anyone, this is not a time to sit on the fence, rather, you should be mending fences (Romans 12:18). If for some reason you can't mend the fence, then pull it down

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

PLEASE STOP EATING AND SHARE

 

I was thinking this morning.... After about two weeks out of Nigeria and eating a blend of Nigeria and oyibo food, my Warri friend from Hussey college invited my family over for lunch. What's on the menu? Starch and banga soup. Apparently, it was a china packaged starch but very much same taste like what I am used to back home.

I was primed to eat and continue eating but not long after the first swallow, I was tired. I looked at what was left and wondered why I couldn’t continue enjoying this scrumptious meal.

Then I recalled watching a movie on Netflix days earlier titled 'To Catch a Killer.' It was about a sniper that killed 29 persons on New Year eve. When the investigative FBI officer asked a female police officer that responded to the incident what she thought about killer stopping at 29 rather than continue to kill more. She responded 'I think he got his fill. No matter how good the food taste, you stop eating when you've had enough. Till you get hungry again.'

I thought about the many good things we enjoy in life and how we get tired after we've had our fill. For example, I always look forward to travelling abroad on vacation but often wondered why after only a few weeks, I get tired and want to come back home. Now I understand why. 'No matter how good a food taste, you stop eating when you've had enough. Till you get hungry again.'

It is common saying that 'too much of everything is bad.' When you are privileged to have a banquet set before you, eat but not compulsively like Nigeria politicians. Remember, there are many who are praying for just a bite. The normal order is, no matter how good a food taste, you stop eating when you've had enough. When you can't stop eating, it is a disorder called Prader-Willi syndrome (a malfunction of the hypothalamus, a part of the brain that normally controls feelings of fullness or hunger).

Whatever God has blessed you with, enjoy but remember to stop eating at some point and share, else you will be guilty of debauchery (Galatians 5:19).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

MAKE SENSE OF LIFE

 

I was thinking this morning..... Recently, the security guard of my apartment in Port-Harcourt was relieved of his job because he was disrespectful of the caretaker. His hitherto N30k minimum wage was ridiculous, but his life literally fell apart after the sack. He is always sick and could hardly care for himself. Every so often, he will text me asking for N2k for drugs or food. I kept supporting until his text two days ago asking for support to buy drugs as he was sick. I felt he was wearying me out and wanted to ignore him but then I recalled a message sent to me the day before that says 'Life makes more sense when we become the reason why others smile.'

The truth is, in the world today, people are not smiling at all. Many of the smiles you see are fake. Did you know there are 19 different types of smile, out of which only 6 are for happiness? The remaining 13 smiles are the embarrassed, miserable and fake smile (popularly known as wayo smile in Warri).

You will meet people with challenges daily. Don't build a fence around you nor squeeze your face to put them off. No one is asking you to cure world hunger, but to simply do something that will put a smile on the face of your neighbour. Be the conveyor of good news or good deeds because life makes more sense when we become the reason why others smile.

I am not talking about wayo smile or a smile of embarrassment. There is a lot you can do to put one of the 6 smiles of happiness on the faces of people. Invite a family over for dinner, buy small gift for someone or simply just smile at a random person. You know why? Life makes more sense when we become the reason why others smile.

A cheerful heart brings a smile to your face; a sad heart makes it hard to get through the day (Prov 15:13). I am smiling because I just want to make sense of life.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

GIVE THEM THEIR ZOBO

 

I was thinking this morning.... As an African, there are many foreign practices I struggle to understand. One of such is the giving of flowers. Flowers are often seen as a symbol of love and affection, and when someone is given a bouquet, it's a sign that they are loved and appreciated.

Nevertheless, as youths, we did try out giving of flowers in our apprentice days of 'toasting' a girl in Warri by plucking an hibiscus flower on our way to visiting a babe. The bright red showy flowers of the hibiscus 🌺 was our symbol of love.

From experience, we soon learnt that rather than flowers that withers within hours, Africans appreciated gifts that add value such as money, food or even a souvenir that is long lasting.

Fast forward 25 years. When I first realised that the popular Nigerian drink Zobo was made from dry hibiscus flower, I was immediately put off, despite the drink being rich in antioxidants and aids detoxification. It took me a while to summon up courage to drink the juice made from our love flower, but I finally did years later. The taste? Not bad, I will say, particularly when prepared with ginger.

Acquiring a taste for Zobo gave me a whole new view of the practice of giving of flowers. Why should you give out flowers that can't be eaten when you can process the flower and give out as Zobo? No dulling!

Early last week, the Nigeria Women Football team were narrowly edged out of the Women's World Cup by England after a hard fought match. The ladies did Nigeria proud just like their basketball counterparts, D'Tigress that won their fourth consecutive FIBA Women's Afrobasket title, with mostly local players and first ever female coach. While many were saying, give them their flowers, I said they deserved more than flowers. Give them every dollar due and rather than flowers, give them their Zobo.

If you have achieved anything remarkable, and want to ginger yourself up, you need not wait for anyone to give you your flowers. Do one better, give yourself a chilled Zobo with a tint of ginger. Self appreciation is not pride (Ephesians 5:29).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

Let Nigerians Breathe

 

I was thinking this morning....  Last week Tuesday, the Nigeria Senate, after debating a motion against the proposed hike of electricity tariff by DISCOs, passed a resolution that will go down as one of the strangest in the annals of the hallowed Red Chamber. Amidst laughter, the Senators adopted a resolution tagged ‘Let the poor breathe.' Most people got angry with the joke being made of the plight of ordinary Nigerians.

It wasn't therefore surprising when 'Let the poor breathe' became the central theme of the NLC general protest last Wednesday. The message never really hit home until I received a mail from my Pension Fund Managers, IBTC. The mail started thus; Hello Esteemed Client, Put your hand on your chest and repeat after me: “My salary and income will breathe; bills will not suffocate them."

I thought it was funny, until I drove my SUV to the petrol station. The fuel gauge was at quarter tank. I asked them to fill the tank. When the pump stopped, I checked and it was reading N38,800. In my shock, I remembered the IBTC instructions, placed my hand on my chest and said "My salary and income will breathe; bills will not suffocate them."

Days later, I took my young wife shopping. I stood by while she negotiated with the 'Aboki' for five tubers of yam. When I heard the aboki say "walahi madam, the last price na N41,000," I quickly put my hand on my chest and said "My salary and income will breathe; bills will not suffocate them."

I was still wondering how Nigerians were surviving the economic suffocation when I saw the headline of President Bola Tinubu asking the Nigerian Senate to approve military action against the Niger Republic coupists. While thanking God that the Senate rejected the request, I wondered why a country that don't have enough money to run our economy is planning on fighting a proxy war in our own backyard.

2nd Timothy 3:1 had warned us, 'This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.' At times like this, I enjoin you to put your hand on your chest and repeat after me "My family and I will breathe; Nigeria will not suffocate us."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

CHERISH YOUR KODAK MOMENTS

 

I was thinking this morning.... Many that were old enough in the 80s and 90s will remember the iconic American photography company, Kodak, advert promoting its camera and film products. The phrase Kodak moment became very popular and even found its way into the dictionary.

A Kodak moment is a moment in time that is so precious because of its sentimental value or its beauty, one wishes to preserve it on film. This was what happened when Super Falcons forward Asisat Oshoala scored Nigeria’s third goal in their 3-2 win against Australia.

In the heat of the moment, she pulled off her jersey to create an ‘iconic’ image, which has now gone viral across the world. The Barcelona Femeni forward, who is a Muslim, took to her Instagram page to reveal her dad was not happy with her choice of celebration. She had written “My dad is definitely not happy with my choice of celebration but then again, Life is a collection of MOMENTS."

Life is a collection of moments. Yes, Kodak moments. I have had several Kodak moments in life but will never forget the day we had our very last exams in Uniben. A number of us gathered in the room of Alero Edukugho (now Alero Hans) at the female hostel to celebrate. Music blasted and drinks flowed. At the spur of the moment, Alero placed one of her wigs on my head even as the camera clicked. Thirty-two years later, I can still remember that moment. It was a Kodak moment.😎

Not everything in life is pre-planned or fully thought through. Some actions and reactions are on the spur of the moment. The sentimental value of your Kodak moment does not decrease because it lacks decorum in the eyes of the public.

Do not despise the Kodak moments of your life. Collect and collate them. When you look into the album of your life in 30 to 50 years time, you might regret a couple of your actions but one thing will be certain, you will cherish every one of those Kodak moments. The little things of the past would’ve become great things. Eccl 6:9 says 'Enjoy what you have rather than desiring what you don’t have.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THIS BANGA SOUP CALLED LIFE

 

I was thinking this morning..... about life. A week ago, I woke up to the sad news that the husband of a colleague had collapsed and died suddenly. He was only 60 years. When we visited her to commiserate, she, along with her 10 year old son, sobbed. It was heartbreaking even as we consoled them. Life.

Yesterday, we joined another colleague and friend to Ibadan to celebrate her mum who turned 85 recently. It was a very colourful and well attended ceremony. The children had gone all out to make the celebration one their mum will never forget.

There were lots of orishirishi as the invited guests feast in celebration. Amala and ewedu, Chinese fried rice, jollof and pounded yam were all in abundance, but it was the banga soup that got me thinking. By simply placing a spoon of the banga soup in my mouth, I could immediately taste the bitterleaf in it, but as I swallowed it with starch, it was simply divine. I shut my eyes to savour the soup and then it dropped, life indeed is banga soup.

You can't have a great banga soup without a tint of bitterleaf. Two Saturdays back, I was mourning, yesterday, I was celebrating. The bitter-sweet combination if what makes it banga soup. Life indeed is banga soup.

The sound of the owambe music from the all female band jolted me back to reality as I watched the 'Glam-mama' take to the dance floor. I imagined what could be running through her mind at that point in time. This year makes it 15 years since her husband died at 73. Painful as it was then, today, with family and friends surrounding her, she celebrates life at 85. Oh, this banga soup called life.

Like banga soup, there will be an occasional sprinkle of bitterleaf to make life tasty. Don't view an isolated negative event in your life as the summary of your life. That you lost a job, an asset or a loved one should not mean the end of your life. The good in your life far outweighs the bad. If you think deep, you will see that of a truth, life is like banga soup. Romans 8:28 - And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God.

Love God and enjoy life like I enjoyed my banga soup, because life indeed is banga soup.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

LIFE IS NOT IN CLASS

 

I was thinking this morning..... about the value people place on class. Last week I attended the Health and Safety week of an organisation. As part of the events lined up were Aerobics session and Health Walk. Since there was going to be gift items for participants, the hall was filled up by blue-collar workers a full hour before the start time.

When we eventually started, there were less than five white-collar workers in the crowd, for reasons that suggest class differences. As we walked, a friend expressed her disappointment and said 'what those of us higher up don't realise is that, it is in the midst of that class-less group that life is enjoyed.'

It got me thinking that truly 'life is not in class.' I remember my days in Mowoe primary school, Warri, sitting in class for extended lectures after they've rang the bell for recess. Looking through the window at my mates playing football will always make me want to run out. Why? Because the fun is out there in the open where seniors mingle with juniors. Life is not in class.

I used to enjoy starch and banga soup at home where I eat with sleeves folded, until I got a high-paying job and started eating everything with cutlery at high-end restaurants. Weeks ago, I arranged for a family starch and banga soup time-out at one of those spots in Warri. As I watched people eat in freedom, I threw caution to the wind, washed my hands and enjoyed my starch the old-fashioned way. Truly, life is not in class.

The best times of my life were the times I did not consider my status at work, church or age. Times when I laughed out loud, jumped and ran like a child, sat on the floor and ate with bare hands, danced, sang and mingled with the low and mighty. As I reflected on why those times were so precious, it dawn on me that it is because life is not in class.

Whichever way you look at it, life is not in class. There is too much formality and control in class. You are limited in class but have limitless possibilities outside. Why do you despise your brother because of class? (Romans 14:10). Loosen up and be human. Mingle with all, irrespective of status because life is not in class.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

HAVE YOU BEEN PROSTITUTED?

 

I was thinking this morning...... I walked into one of the new supermarkets in Port-Harcourt last Wednesday and noticed how fully manned the store was. There was arguably a staff to two rows of shelves and I wondered how they will break even in this globally depressed economy with so many staff. But then I imagined how serious an issue shoplifting had become.

To warn would-be thieves, supermarket management has become creative. In one shop, there is a sign that says 'Shoplifters to enjoy free ride in a police van,' and another simply put up a life size photo cutout of a policeman looking at you. But one that really got my attention was a sign that says 'Shoplifters will be prostituted.'

While some might think it to be grammatical error, me I don't trust the intentions of men o. Has the society become so bad that they would rather commit the thief to sex trade than to law enforcers? Could it be because they know they will make money from it unlike calling the police where they will spend money?

Sadly, it seems people would rather be prostituted than be prosecuted. Last week, the Vice Chancellor (VC) of University of Port-Harcourt threatened to dismiss a female student over indecent dressing. When a young girl leaves her hostel for classroom half naked all in the name of fashion, you need not call any fashion police, she has already been 'prostituted.'

The craziest of it all are pregnant ladies posting their nude photos on social media calling it maternity shoots. Chai! Despite it being so offensive, you need not call the morality police, they have already been 'prostituted.'

Having sexual relations with people for money is contact prostitution but when you expose your nudity to the public to gain carnal attraction or likes on social media, it is Non-contact Prostitution.

What has happened to shame is still a mystery. Has shame been kidnapped or assassinated? Uncovering your nakedness exposes your shame (Isaiah 47:3). If you no longer feel ashamed, then this question is for you 'have you been prostituted?'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

MARRIAGE IS A FEELING STATION

 

I was thinking this morning...... It wasn't until I owned a car that I fully appreciated that, apart from dispensing petrol and diesel, most modern filling stations also retail LPG and vehicle accessories. Some offer vehicle servicing and maintenance services, convenience store as well as car wash. They are set up to be one-stop-shops for car owners. When I saw the sign 'Feeling Station Now Open' instead of 'Filling Station,' I smiled at the innocent mistake as I had another epiphany.

Why do many good men and women sometimes end up in bad marriages? Recently, I read the scandalous news of a pastor's wife that slept with the husband's brother. Following severe dragging on social media, the woman made a video to explain her side of the story. She confessed to being ashamed of her actions and that her husband was a genuine man of God but was always fasting and travelling for ministry assignments and never really gave attention to her needs as a woman. Hmm! My take? Marriage is a 'Feeling station.'

There are many couples, some well educated and with good jobs and others illiterate and broke, that their marriages have become an 'endurance race.' They have entered into the race and can't pull out, yet it is gruelling and taking a toll on their health. Some are emotionally drained due to the constant bickering and are wondering, 'How did I get to this point?' Tough question, but the answer is in the early realisation that marriage is a 'Feeling station.'

The more time a vehicle spends being serviced at the filling station (oil, brakes and tyre pressure check, fueling etc), the better it will perform at the journey. Similarly, in the journey of marriage, a couple must give time to each other, because marriage is a 'Feeling station' where emotional and physical needs must be serviced. Just like you can't service your car virtually, physical presence is important for connection and warmth.

The belief by some men that being the emperor, the conqueror, the champion and the lion of the house, is all that is required for a successful marriage, is an error. For those about to open a 'Feeling Station,' fidelity, communication and love are vital materials for success. For marriage to be honourable among all (Hebrews 13:4), then you must see it as a 'Feeling station.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

SAVE ME HO GOD

 

I was thinking this morning.... I remember my early days of Sunday School at First Baptist Church, Warri. We were told how God changed the name of Abram to Abraham and that the inserted 'ha' signifies the breath of life. Since then I have believed that the short audible breath through the mouth associated with pronouncing 'H' signifies a deep commitment from the soul.

When I saw the inscription 'Save me Ho God,' I immediately understood that it wasn't a typo but the heart cry of a drowning man. Simply put, 'Save me ho God' is the senior brother of 'Save me oh God'. When someone is experiencing challenges, he says 'Save me oh God,' but when going through problems pro max alias 'shege,' he shouts 'Save me Ho God.'

As I mused on those words, I remembered the incident of the early morning hours of 15 April 1912, when RMS Titanic, with an estimated 2,224 people on board, sank in the North Atlantic Ocean, four days into her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York City. As the Titanic sank in icy waters, after striking an iceberg, I can only imagine the horror on the faces of the people and many screaming, 'Save me Ho God.'

Fast forward 111 years. Five persons boarded a submersible watercraft and set out on an expedition. Where to? Wait for it. To explore the Titanic shipwreck in the North Atlantic, about 12,500 feet deep in the ocean. The same Titanic that took the lives of close to 1,500 persons. No be juju be that? As details began to surface of the catastrophic implosion of the Titan craft and how the five men died, I could only imagine them screaming 'Save me Ho God.'

Meanwhile, somewhere in Okomomaiko, Lagos, a father of four is still struggling with petrol price increase to over N500/ltr and then he heard that electricity tariff will increase by July 1. He shook his head and says 'Save me Ho God!'

These are perilous times and life can be tough but no one prays to experience a heart-wrenching situation that will make one shout 'Save me Ho God.' Whether you are saying 'Save me oh God' or 'Save me Ho God,' crying to God for help is the right call to make in an impossible situation (Psalms 3:7). 

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

I KNOW A MAN

 

I was thinking this morning.... Two days ago, a colleague checked out of his hotel room in Port-Harcourt unbeknownst to him that he left his wad of greenbacks in the room. The cleaner came in afterwards and saw the money. He took the money (worth over N7 million) to his supervisor and it was eventually returned to the owner. Why would a worker on a yearly salary of less than a million naira do that? He must have considered his children and the legacy he wants to leave behind. In my conclusion, I said, this man is a father.

I know a man that earns about N50,000 monthly and have 6 children with two in the University. With the impact of fuel subsidy removal, he treks 15km daily to get to his place of work. Why must he make this huge sacrifice? This man is a father.

I knew a man in the 'yard' we grew up in Warri who came home and met his wife and children quarreling with another family. The man of the other family also came out to defend his family. When both men could no longer stomach the insults on their wives and children, a free-for-all family fight broke out that landed both men in the hospital. As I looked back to understand why, I concluded, those men were fathers.

I know a man doing well as an accountant in Nigeria. One evening he was kidnapped on his way from work and almost lost his life but for God. Not long after, he sold his big house and relocated (japa'ed) to Canada. Years after, I visited him in his 3 bed, 2 bath apartment in Toronto. He was living a very modest life but the children were happy. I sat with him to understand why and he said 'I sacrificed my luxury in Nigeria so my children can grow up in a sane environment where life matters and education is not seen as a scam. I looked at him, shook my head and said 'this man is a father.'

It is easy for one to think of men that are rich and famous as the ideal model of a father. Fatherhood is more about the sacrifices we make for our family than the luxury we provide. A true father is one that fights for his family, sacrifices his comfort for them, loves his children and their mother and leaves the legacy of integrity and truth for them (Proverbs 13:22).

If you know a man that is a true father, please join me to wish him 'Happy Fathers Day.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

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

JUNE 11

 

I was thinking this morning.... about June 11. I woke up this morning with June 11 plastered all over my subconscious. As I wondered why, I was taken on a journey through time. I hesitated and asked 'Where to and why?' I heard a soft whisper 'Relax! Walk with me.'

I was taken into a large room with several doors. As I turned the knob of the first door, I immediately saw myself in medieval times. I was witnessing the wedding of King Henry VIII of England to his first wife, Catherine of Aragon. It was a private ceremony in the church of the Observant Friars outside Greenwich Palace. When I checked the date, it was June 11, 1509.

I exited that room and opened the second door and saw myself in Missuola County in Montana, USA. I watched as a baby girl was being delivered. 'But who is she?' I asked and was told she will be named Jeannette Rankin, and will grow up to become a politician and the first woman to be a member of the U.S. Congress. The date? It was June 11, 1880.

At this time, I was frowning and wondering where all this was going. As I moved towards the third door, it opened and I was sucked into a theater. When I looked at the big screen, it was the premiere of Steven Spielberg's blockbuster E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial. I recalled my days in Hussey college, Warri when that movie was released. As I stood up to leave, the date flashed by and it was June 11, 1982.

There were two more doors even as my anxiety heightened. The 4th door opened and I was blowing vuvuzela in a huge stadium in South Africa. The mood was electric. As I jumped and sang with the crowd, I discovered it was the opening ceremony of the 19th FIFA World Cup tournament, the first on the African continent. The date was June 11, 2010.

I left the stadium smiling but exhausted from opening doors. But there is one more, the voice whispered. Reluctantly, I opened and saw myself in Benin city, Nigeria. A mother was smiling on a Sunday morning like today. 'What's the reason for her joy?' I asked. 'A baby girl has been born,' I was told. 'But who is she?' I asked further. 'She will be called Edirin and will in later years become the wife of your youth and the mother of your children.' Wow!

Now I understand why I was taken back in time. It is to learn that though celebrities were born, histories were made, great men died on June 11, yet nothing makes today June 11 more special than the fact that my young wife was born.

Happy birthday to the wife of my youth. May the good Lord remember you for good as you celebrate.

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