I SHALL NOT DIE

 

I was thinking this morning..... The past few days have made me sober, triggering deep introspection about life and death. I was on a flight with a colleague who had received the shocking news of the passing of her brother-in-law a few hours earlier. This man's job had been so demanding and stressful in recent years that he had agreed with the wife that he was going to resign for the sake of his health. However, he kept going and going until last week when he could take it no more and threw in the towel. He had resigned in the morning, and by midnight, he suffered a heart attack and died a couple of hours later.

Wow! How do you explain that? Did he resign too late? If he hadn't resigned, could he have died in active service? I imagined how so many people are experiencing similar extreme work pressure but somehow can't break away. As I considered why, I can only recall the Warri proverb that says, 'E go beta, e go beta, na e make camel still dey carry load.'

I remember a colleague years ago who was a workaholic. He worked so hard and hardly created time for vacation or recreation. He was saving up seriously for his retirement when he would finally relax and enjoy the fruits of a labour. Unfortunately, the stress took a toll on him, and he collapsed and died. The retirement he worked day and night for was never to be. As colleagues gathered for his burial, one lesson was clear to all, 'Who naked no dey chuke hand for pocket!'

I was still pondering on the fate of those they left behind when I saw a writeup on the burial of President Muhammadu Buhari. The author had clearly pointed out that despite the status of PMB, his burial was simple, with no night of tributes, no wake keep, no in-laws visit, no expensive coffin, no 5 musicians playing concurrently, no hired pall bearers nor spraying of naira or dollars. Everything that makes people say 'the burial carry weight' was absent. How did we come to this point of stressing ourselves to death and still stress the living because of what people would say? I concluded with the saying, 'This burial rich, this burial rich, no make to die hungry elders.'

Don't live or pattern your life to impress anyone or conform with unhealthy tradition. Think deeply about what is driving your actions. Otherwise, like they say, 'head wey no wan think, go carry load.' Psalms 118:17 says 'I shall not die, but live.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

Hello! Can You Hear Me?

 

I was thinking this morning.... The wedding of the daughter of our Hussey College classmate in Toronto happened at a time when the trade war between the USA and Canada was raging. This triggered a soft war between our classmates from the USA and Canada, with the Canadians jokingly threatening to slam additional tariffs on the USA group on arrival. The USA group threatened that their visit to Toronto was to finalise the annexation of Canada as the 51st State of the USA.

Unfortunately, the day of arrival of the USA team in Canada was when the hotel everyone was lodged, decided to carry out maintenance. Power was shut off, and water ran out. The USA folks went into overdrive, telling everyone exactly how Canada is like a county and needed to be annexed by the USA.

We were yet to hear the last of their complaints on our way to Niagara Falls when we saw this phone booth standing by the side of the gas station we stopped to top our tanks. That again triggered another round of gbas-gbos between the USA and the Canadian teams, with the USA team insisting that Canada is old-school for having phone booths in the era of advanced mobile phones. As they banter, I walked over to the booth, just to confirm if it was functional. As I picked up the handset to my ear and heard the ring tone, like in the movie, Matrix, I was teleported to a realm of musing.

How ironic that we came from an era with little or no mobile phones, but yet communication was great, to today with mobile phones everywhere and we are not communicating. In 1980, there were approximately 400 million telephone lines compared to today, with over 7.4 billion smartphones globally. Today, talk is cheap, but communication is poor. Everyone has a phone, but only a few are communicating. Parents and children are all sitting in the living room, each holding a mobile phone, not for communication, but lost in their respective virtual world.

Mobile phones were meant to improve communication, but it has made it worse. Talking does not mean communication because we can communicate in silence. Beyond communicating, we must seek to understand one another to make the world a better place. No wonder Colossians 4:6 says, "Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one." 

Hello! Can you hear me?

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE BOY WITH OVERSIZED SHORT

 

I was thinking this morning..... Still on the wedding of the daughter of my Hussey College classmate in Ontario, Canada, 39 years after we left school. My young wife and I got to the venue of the trad early, just to ensure we were part of all the action. One by one, guests walked into the living room, colourfully dressed in traditional Niger Delta outfit. While I recognised just a few of my classmates, almost every one of them recognised me. I'm not sure why, though.

While musing, Usifo walked over to where I was with another of our classmates. I didn't at all pick his face from the past, even though the name rang a bell. I was still digging into the deep recesses of my memory when Usifo said, "Weyimi, I remember you quite well. You were very small while we were in school and always wore oversized shorts." He concluded by gesturing to the shorts being below my knees.

After laughing off the joke, his words played back in my head. Not the fact that I was smallish but the memory that I wore oversized shorts. I recalled that the oversized short was not a fashion statement but rather an economic strategy by my parents. My short was oversized either because I was to wear it for several years or because it was passed down from my elder brother.

As I thought about Usifo's remarks, I was initially disappointed in myself. Usifo did not remember me for something positively grand, like being the best student in class or an outstanding prefect. He remembered me for my oversized shorts. Chai! He didn't even remember me for being a fine boy or well-behaved student, but of everything about a student, he remembered my oversized shorts. Usifo, why? Lol.

But then, I thought again. While in Hussey College, there were many students that Principal Ojo gave his signature slap for truancy. I am thankful that Usifo did not remember me as one of the receivers. He also didn't remember me as the boy that stole or for any other vice. He remembered me for my oversized shorts.

Thanks to Usifo, I got a renewed sense that it is better to be remembered for a bad outfit than for a bad character. What you wear is external and will not define your personality, but what you do to others will define who you are, and that's what you will be remembered for. Be intentional about having a good name rather than a great fashion sense or riches (Proverbs 22:1).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

TABLE 19

 

I was thinking this morning...... Two days after the traditional wedding of the daughter of our Hussey College classmate was the white wedding, and every one of us had dressed up in our aso-ebi. Again, a Niger Delta attire. As we arrived at the venue, I had planned to go sit with my close friends in the Hussey College Class of 86, but the organisers had a different plan. We were directed to go check our table on the display board at the entrance. My young wife and I had been assigned to Table 19.

I wasn't sure who was assigned to my table and was bracing up for a boring four hours. On getting to Table 19, double chief Lucky Memene, his wife and daughter, the lovely Clara Uyi Reinicke, the irrepressible Maureen Iyere, the amiable Favour Orere and Tony Dale were already seated. These were familiar faces but not my regular pals while we were in school. With a chair short, Tony Dale happily volunteered to give up his seat so my young wife and I could have a seat at Table 19. He left for another table. Lucky Braimoh, who was originally assigned to Table 19, came in later on but joined another table because there was no more seat at Table 19.

As we drove back home after the event, I imagined how the journey of life can be akin to Table 19. Just like I came to the event not choosing where and who to sit with, no one selected their parents when they were born and, to a large extent, not even their friends. Life brought us all together at Table 19.

Like Tony and Lucky, who eventually left Table 19 to another table, we sometimes separate from those we started life with and sojourn with new friends. We must, however, maintain a good relationship with them. Interactions on Table 19 started slowly but picked up tempo when we embraced our individuality and enjoyed the company of each other. Our conversations connected, and we left as closer friends on Table 19.

Life has placed every one of us at our respective Table 19, seating you with family, classmates, colleagues, and others. What you make out of Table 19 depends on you. Embrace those life has paired you with and be kind to them. If you must leave to join another group like Tony, do so happily and without acrimony. Like the Rotarians would say, "Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver, and the other is gold." Romans 12:18 is also instructive.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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