NOT EVERY CLOSED EYE IS SLEEPING

 

I was thinking this morning... Last Friday, I, along with some colleagues, gathered in a large meeting room to be recognised for a job well done. As we sat around the large conference table, the attached photograph was taken without my knowledge.

At first glance, someone might conclude that I had fallen asleep during the event. But my posture suggests otherwise. The closed eyes, hands clasped together, and calm expression could tell a story of gratitude, reflection, surrender, patience, and perhaps the courage to embrace a new chapter.

In Nigeria, when you close your eyes during a meeting, people assume you are sleeping. In church, they say you are praying. At home, your wife might conclude you are pretending not to hear her. Na only God know wetin dey happen inside your head!

But sometimes, you are simply counting your blessings, reviewing your journey, or quietly asking God, "Baba God, wetin next?"

As I reflected on this photograph, I realised that life comes in seasons. There is a season of chasing opportunities, another of building achievements, and yet another of seeking significance beyond success.

In our younger years, we are often obsessed with what lies ahead. The next promotion, the next house, the next achievement. We are so busy pursuing tomorrow that we sometimes forget to appreciate yesterday's answered prayers.

But as the years roll by, wisdom teaches us that not every closed door is a disappointment, not every delay is a denial, and not every change of direction is a setback.

Sometimes, na Baba God dey redirect traffic!

Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us that "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven."

Perhaps the greatest wisdom in life is knowing when to pursue, when to pause, when to appreciate, and when to move on.

So, the next time you see someone sitting quietly with eyes closed, don't be too quick to conclude that the person is sleeping. He may simply be having a private conversation with the One who knows his past and holds his future.

Sometimes, we need to close our eyes to yesterday's achievements to open our hearts to tomorrow's possibilities.

After all, the God who brought us this far has not suddenly forgotten our address!

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE WISDOM OF NOT KNOWING

 

I was thinking this morning... about how sometimes, the difference between wisdom and foolishness is simply the courage to say, "I don't know."

Recently, I boarded a flight from Lagos to Benin and settled into my seat, 21D. Minutes later, a lady in her sixties arrived and occupied seat 21C beside me.

Mama was unusually excited. After settling in, she handed her phone to the lady in seat 21B and requested that she make a video recording of her aboard the aircraft to share with her children.

The lady happily obliged, and Mama immediately commenced what I can only describe as an airborne thanksgiving service!

She thanked her children and daughters-in-law for making her flight possible. She particularly appreciated one daughter-in-law who had arrived at her son's house three days earlier to help prepare for the journey.

When the first recording ended, Mama requested another. The thanksgiving service had entered its second session!

She hailed one of her sons, calling him "Odogwu for God," and thanked him for paying for her ticket. She concluded by declaring her love for everyone.

The only thing that temporarily interrupted Mama's joy was the refreshment service. She opened her snack pack, discovered a small bread roll and a 125ml pack of Chivita Happy Hour juice, hissed, and promptly deposited the entire package in her handbag.

Apparently, after all the thanksgiving and celebration, Mama expected something more befitting on her first experience in an aeroplane.

As we touched down in Benin with a slightly hard landing, Mama exclaimed, "Yes! Jesus! Jesus!!"

Then she turned to me.

"E be like say we don reach Benin?"

"Yes, Mama," I replied.

"Shey if person wan ease herself, e dey inside here?"

I assured her there was a toilet and pointed towards the rear of the aircraft.

Mama was not ashamed to ask questions. Everything was new, and she was determined to enjoy the experience.

Then came the interesting part.

As we stood to disembark, I noticed a well-dressed gentleman struggling to unbuckle his seatbelt. He pulled, twisted and fiddled with it, apparently determined to solve the problem without assistance.

After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally surrendered.

"Please, how do we do this?" he asked the person beside him.

I smiled.

Two passengers. Two different attitudes.

One was experiencing air travel with the excitement of a child, freely asking questions without embarrassment. The other appeared determined to maintain an air of sophistication, even when he needed help with something as simple as a seatbelt.

And that was when the lesson hit me.

Sometimes, literacy breeds pride, while humility opens the door to learning.

We live in a society where many people would rather pretend to know than admit ignorance. We fear that asking questions will make us look foolish, forgetting that pretending to know what we don't know can make us look even more foolish.

As we say in Warri, "Who no know, and e no wan ask, na only am go waka lost!"

Mama may not have known where the aircraft toilet was, but she knew something far more important: there is no shame in asking.

The gentleman knew how to dress for a flight, but momentarily struggled with how to get out of his seat!

I left that aircraft with two lessons. From Mama, I learnt that gratitude and childlike excitement are beautiful things, regardless of age. From the gentleman, I was reminded that appearances and knowledge are not necessarily travelling companions.

Proverbs 11:2 says, "When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom."

In this journey of life, nobody knows everything. Sometimes, the wisest person in the room is not the one who has all the answers, but the one humble enough to ask the right questions.

After all, na who ask road dey reach where e dey go!

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

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

VIP, VVIP, VVVIP… Who Come Remain?

 

I was thinking this morning..... on Friday I attended an event that could pass for a State event, with state governors, ministers, first-class traditional rulers and captains of industry in attendance.

When I was given a VIP access card, I felt very honoured. After putting on my "Christmas cloth," I arrived at the venue feeling like a big man. It wasn't until I got into the hall that I discovered that my VIP card was actually at the lowest rung of the ladder. There were VVIPs and even VVVIPs ahead of me. Chai! So VIP no VIP again?

Why is one Very in Very Important Personality not enough? Why do we need multiple "verys"? At what point do we stop? VVVVIP? VVVVVIP? Before you know it, somebody's access card will be longer than his CV.

As I pondered on it, I realised that we are a people built on respect. Respect for authority. Respect for elders. Respect for position. Respect for achievement. In our traditional African society, age itself comes with honour. You don't wake up one morning and suddenly decide that because civilisation has arrived, your father's elder brother is now your "guy."

You can now understand why Tony Elumelu responded the way he did to that Gen Z who addressed him simply as "Tony." A man old enough to be her father and, on top of that, happens to be her employer. As the Gen Zs will say, please make it make sense.

That's also why I find it uncomfortable and disrespectful when I hear some comedians refer to the VVVIP of life as "Bros J," all in the name of comedy. Chai! When did your Lord and Saviour, Jesus, become your bros?

That Friday, I entered feeling like a VIP and quickly discovered that in the hierarchy of important people, I still dey learn work. But perhaps the bigger lesson is that we should honour people without worshipping titles, respect elders without diminishing the young, and enjoy access without looking down on those outside the door.

And above all, while human beings may be VIP, VVIP or VVVIP, there is One before whom governors, kings, billionaires, presidents, employers, employees and even we ordinary VIP cardholders must bow. For that level, no need for plenty "V." Na who get invitation card fit form VIP, when Owner of the hall enter, everybody go stand up. As the Bible says: "That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow... and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord." (Philippians 2:10–11)

So the next time dem give me VIP card, I will still wear my Christmas cloth and enjoy myself. But this time, I will first check whether VVIP and VVVIP dey the building before I begin form big man. 😂

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

AFRICAN MAN TIME ASSOCIATION

 

I was thinking this morning.... I was tasked to organise a send-forth event for a friend and colleague, and we fixed the event for this past Friday. Hall booked. Caterers engaged. Invitations went out more than two weeks ahead, giving everyone ample time to prepare. The advertised starting time was 4:00 p.m. prompt.

Then came D-Day.

As the chief host, I arrived at the venue an hour early, just to make sure everything was going according to plan. By exactly 4 p.m., the smart-looking waitresses were already standing beside beautifully arranged tables, ready to receive our guests. The only problem was that there were hardly any guests to receive.

As we waited…and waited…I suddenly realised I had been given enough free time to reflect on that famous Nigerian institution called African Man Time.

African Man Time is that mysterious interpretation of an invitation that boldly says “4:00 p.m. prompt,” but somehow experienced Nigerians understand it to mean, “Start dressing around 4.” In fact, that was exactly what happened with my colleague we were sending forth. I had called him around 3 p.m. to ask if he was ready. His response? He planned to go and have his bath by 4 p.m.! I weak.

As I waited, I began to realise that within this African Man Time Association, there are different categories of members.

First are the Early Birds. One gentleman walked in around 4:15 p.m., looked around the almost-empty hall and asked, “Where is everybody?” When I told him we were still expecting them, he shook his head and said, “Hmm! African Man Time.”

The Early Birds are the people who arrive close to the advertised time and, one hour later, begin regretting the good upbringing their parents gave them.

Then there are the Experienced Guests. They see 4 p.m. on the invitation and calmly do their own calculation, thinking, “Okay…that means 6 p.m.” Within this group are the VIPs, whose arrival somehow determines when everybody else's clock officially starts ticking. Until they arrive, the event has apparently not started, even when it has started.

But perhaps the most interesting group is the Organisers. People like me two days ago. These are the people who deliberately write 4 p.m. when, somewhere at the back of their minds, they are actually expecting the event to start around 5.

I never realised I belonged to this group until a colleague called me around 4:30 p.m. and asked, “Wey, why did you fix the event for 4 p.m. when work closes by 4:30?” Even me, I tire for myself.

The truth is that African Man Time survives partly because everybody expects everybody else to be late. Organisers announce an earlier time because they expect guests to arrive late. Guests arrive late because they believe organisers deliberately announced an earlier time. Everybody is deceiving everybody, and somehow, over the years, we have upgraded the deception into culture. Chai!

Las las! Punctuality is ultimately about respect. Respect for other people's time. Respect for their commitments. Respect for the fact that the one or two hours we casually waste may be time they could have spent doing something else. And perhaps the biggest evidence that African Man Time is not really an African problem is the airport.

Give the same Nigerian a 10 p.m. international flight and by 6 p.m., he is already at the airport checking the departure board every five minutes. Nobody will say, “The flight is 10 p.m., so let me leave home around 10:30.” Why? Because we know that aircraft no dey understand African Man Time.

So maybe our problem is not that Africans cannot keep time. Maybe we simply keep time when we believe there are consequences for being late. African time no dey work for oyibo man airport.

Perhaps it is time we extended the same respect we give the airline's time to the time of our friends, colleagues, families and communities. Because time, unlike money, cannot be refunded. Once spent, it is gone. As the Bible reminds us in Eccl. 3:1 “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” If there is a time for everything, then perhaps 4 p.m. should simply mean 4 p.m.

I was just thinking....

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE MILLION-DOLLAR BABY

 

I was thinking this morning... Years ago, my brother told me a story about how he and some colleagues went to visit their wealthy boss whose wife had just delivered after many years of waiting. They had spent millions of naira on IVF in Nigeria and abroad. After countless disappointments, she finally conceived and gave birth to a bouncing baby boy in America.

When mother and child returned home, friends and well-wishers trooped in to celebrate with them. The baby was brought out for everyone to admire. As the greetings continued, one of the visitors stretched out his hands to carry the baby. Instantly, the proud father quipped, "Don't touch my million-dollar baby!" Everybody laughed, but everyone also understood what he meant. That child was priceless because of the journey that brought him into the world.

Unless you have waited endlessly for the fruit of the womb, it is difficult to understand the silent tears many couples shed. Some spend fortunes on IVF. Others travel across continents. Some become victims of fake prophets, herbalists and scammers who prey on their desperation. The desire to hear one voice call you "Daddy" or "Mummy" can make people attempt almost anything.

Yet life has an interesting irony. For some people, pregnancy comes almost effortlessly. For others, it costs millions. But the destiny of a child has never been determined by the price paid to have that child. The so-called "million-dollar baby" is probably over twenty years old today, but his worth is no less and no more than the child born naturally in a village clinic or the baby delivered in a government hospital for almost nothing.

Every child carries the same divine fingerprint. Perhaps that is God's way of reminding us that while money may influence how a child comes into our lives, it can never determine who that child will become.

Never measure human value by the cost of acquisition. Every child is a gift from God, not a product with a price tag. Pikin no be designer cloth; whether na for boutique or market you buy am, na the person wey wear am dey give am value. Psalm 127:3 says "Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from Him."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

IF YOU WERE THE JUDGE

 

 

I was thinking this morning... Last week, a friend of mine who is a magistrate reached out to me sounding unusually low. "What's the matter?" I asked. "I had a case today that got me emotional."

He went on to tell me about a barman whose young daughter suddenly fell ill and needed urgent medical attention. At the same time, his rent had become due and he was on the verge of being evicted. Desperate, he begged his employer for a loan of ₦650,000 to save his daughter and keep a roof over their heads. His boss refused.

With nowhere else to turn and time running out, the young man took the money from the day's sales without his employer's permission. He was later arrested and brought before the court.

In court, he admitted taking the money. He did not deny his actions. He simply pleaded for mercy, saying he could not watch his child die while waiting for help that never came.

My friend then asked me a question that has refused to leave my mind: "What do you do to such a man? Send him to prison because he broke the law, or allow him to return the money and care for his family?"

As he spoke, I remembered Matthew 12:3-4, where Jesus reminded the Pharisees that David and his companions ate the consecrated bread because they were hungry. Human need did not suddenly make the law irrelevant, but it reminded us that justice without compassion can sometimes miss the heart of God.

In the end, my magistrate friend had little room for personal emotions. The law was clear. He sentenced the young man to one year imprisonment with an option of a ₦20,000 fine, while still requiring him to repay his employer. That conversation left me thinking.

Poverty is not a licence to steal, and stealing does not suddenly become right because life is hard. Yet, before we rush to condemn people, perhaps we should thank God for the temptations we have never had to face. Sometimes the difference between the "good man" and the "criminal" is simply the battles life has allowed each of them to encounter.

As Nigerians often say, "Na hungry fit make person forget say pepper hot." Desperation can push people to places they never imagined. So, let us pray not only for justice, but also for mercy. And above all, let us pray that God never allows us to face the kind of temptation that exposes the worst version of ourselves. 1 Corinthians10:12 says "Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy New Month!

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

WHO DASH US THIS COMPARING SPIRIT?

I was thinking this morning... Early this past week, a colleague walked into my office with a heavy heart. You know that kind of look that says, "I don tire." Before he even sat down, I knew this conversation would not be about work.

For over ten years, he has worked as a contract staff. In that time, many of those who started with him and even those who came long after him have risen through the ranks, and moved on to bigger opportunities. He looked at me and asked the question many people silently ask themselves every day: "What am I doing wrong?"

As my colleague poured out his frustrations, I recalled my visit to one of Nigeria's biggest consumer goods companies in Lagos a few weeks ago. Ironically, it was one of the companies I once dreamt of working for. Their operational discipline was impressive, and their people worked with incredible dedication. Out of curiosity, I asked what their contract staff earned. I was surprised to discover that their highest-paid contract employee earned about a quarter of what my colleague earns.

Yet something caught my attention. They were happy. Not because they earned the most, but because many had learnt to find purpose in where they were while preparing for where they hoped to be.

Life has a funny way of deceiving us. We often believe the person ahead of us is living our dream, while that same person may be looking elsewhere, wishing for another life entirely. If we spend all our time comparing our journey with someone else's, we may miss the blessings that God has already placed on our own road.

By all means, be ambitious. Improve yourself. Work hard. Pray. Prepare. But don't allow comparison to steal your peace. Your journey was never designed to look exactly like another person's.

As we say in Warri, "Na who know road fit tell whether e near or e far." Every journey has its own timing. Just like we all look different so does our path differ. Walk your path faithfully. Comparison creates pressure, but purpose brings peace. Proverbs 3:5-6 says "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE TIMEKEEPER - 19TH JULY

 

I was thinking this morning... This morning, I glanced at the calendar and immediately froze. 19th July. For a few seconds, I just stared at the date because this date has quietly occupied a special place in my heart for the last 22 years. Many people only saw me in my glory days. Very few knew the long road that led to it.

Almost ten years after completing my Master's degree, I was still searching for the breakthrough I believed God had promised me. I worked as a contract staff, changed employers, changed jobs, and even changed cities in pursuit of something better. There was movement, but no certainty.

I attended interview after interview. Some ended with promises that never materialised. Others ended in complete silence. I prayed. I fasted. I served God faithfully. I believed that if I did everything right, my glory season would surely come quickly. Instead, the only thing that seemed to increase was my anxiety.

At some point, it honestly felt as though heaven had gone quiet concerning my matter. People I expected to help couldn't. Situations refused to cooperate. Every closed door made the next one look even heavier. Then life became even more demanding. I got married in 2001. A year later, God blessed us with our first child. Suddenly, waiting was no longer just about me. Every passing month made the need for stability even more urgent.

And then... something changed.

Almost overnight, doors that had remained firmly shut began to open. People who knew me started calling. Even those who had never met me somehow became channels of favour. Opportunities appeared from unexpected places. It was as though invisible hands had gone ahead of me, rearranging circumstances in my favour. The same prayers that seemed unanswered for years suddenly started producing results one after another.

Then came 19th July.

Twenty-two years ago today, I walked into the opportunity I had dreamt about for years. What looked like delay was actually divine preparation. What I interpreted as silence was God working behind the scenes. What I called stagnation was simply heaven waiting for the right moment.

Over the years, I have come to understand something about God that changed the way I view life. God is not only a Promise Keeper. He is also the Timekeeper.

Many things in life are not determined solely by intelligence, hard work, ambition or even sincere desire. Timing is one of God's greatest instruments. Before the appointed time, every effort may appear fruitless. Doors remain closed. Relationships fail to connect. Opportunities slip away.

But once heaven announces that your season has arrived, everything begins to align. The same people who ignored you become your advocates. The same opportunities that looked impossible suddenly become accessible. The same doors that resisted you begin to open effortlessly.

The difference was never your worth.

It was the timing.

Never conclude that God has forgotten you simply because your calendar looks different from someone else's. Your responsibility is faithfulness and preparation. God's responsibility is timing. And when His time comes, what took years of waiting can happen in moments. Like we say in Warri, when your market day never reach, even person wey wan buy go waka pass. But once your day break, na buyers go dey look for you. Ecclesiastes 3:11 (NIV) says, "He has made everything beautiful in its time."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE GATEKEEPER

I was thinking this morning... A week ago, I attended the annual gathering of my professional association. During the meeting, a man walked up to me and asked, "Do you remember me?" While his name sounded familiar, I couldn't recall his face.

"Do you remember 22 years ago when we came to Port Harcourt for an interview?" he asked. "I was the one who convinced you to stay back and do the interview when you thought the position was only a contract role. You wanted to abandon the interview and return to Warri to make an office presentation because you believed the job wasn't what you expected."

Wow!

As he spoke, the events of that day came back to me vividly. Thank God I listened to him. I got the job, and 22 years later, I am still with the same organisation. Looking back, I can confidently say that one conversation changed the direction of my career.

After we parted that afternoon, I couldn't stop thinking about a recent article written by a friend titled "Gatekeepers, Bookkeepers and Timekeepers." God places all three kinds of people in our lives at different seasons.

The man who stopped me from abandoning that interview was a gatekeeper standing at the entrance of my next level. His assignment was simply to make sure I didn't walk away from the gate God had opened for me.

Sometimes God also sends gatekeepers to stop us from entering the wrong gates. At the time, they may seem like ordinary people having ordinary conversations. Yet they are quietly carrying out extraordinary assignments.

The interesting thing is that gatekeepers rarely stay in our lives for long. They appear, do what God sent them to do, and move on. That perhaps explains why I couldn't even remember him until he introduced himself. I only recognised him as one of God's gatekeepers after 22 years.

As we climb higher in life, may we also become gatekeepers for others, encouraging, guiding and sometimes gently stopping someone from walking away from their own breakthrough.

Like we say in Nigeria, "Person wey show you road no reduce him own journey." Helping someone find their path never diminishes yours.

Never underestimate the value of one timely conversation. God often changes lives through ordinary people. "Listen to advice and accept instruction, that you may gain wisdom in the future." Proverbs 19:20 (ESV).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

IS WEY MEY ALSO AMONG THE POLITICIANS?

I was thinking this morning.... Days ago, I had to fly from Abuja to back home. On boarding, I took my seat along with two of my colleagues in the front row of the aircraft. I sat beside a middle-aged man and said a casual hello.

As others boarded, I noticed a number of persons greeting the passenger beside me and someone sitting in the next row.

“Good afternoon, Your Excellency.”

I didn’t pay much attention until another man greeted him, “Good afternoon, Mr Speaker.”

It was then I turned and properly looked at those around me.

To my left was the Speaker of the House of Assembly. In the next row to my right was the Deputy Governor, and directly behind me were two Commissioners. Almost all the seats in business class were occupied by members of the State Executive Council. These were people you see on TV daily.

Immediately, I became a bit uncomfortable as I recalled the words of 1 Samuel 10:11: “What is this that has happened to the son of Kish? Is Saul also among the prophets?”

I imagined a friend walking into the aircraft and seeing me in my black felt fedora hat sitting beside the Speaker and Deputy Governor. They would have said: “What is this that has happened to Wey, the son of Mey? Is Wey Mey also among the politicians?”

Then something struck me. These men, despite the titles, convoy, security details and public status, were just human beings trying to get from one place to another. They boarded the aircraft the same way I did. They fastened their seat belts the same way I did. And when turbulence came, all of us held that armrest with equal faith.

Life has a funny way of reminding us that titles may separate us on paper, but humanity equalises us in reality. It also reminded me of how quickly environment can influence perception. Just by changing where you sit, people may suddenly assume you have changed camp, status, or affiliation. Association can create assumptions.

At the end of the day, power is temporary, influence is seasonal, and office is transient. Today’s “Your Excellency” can become tomorrow’s “former this” and “former that.” Respect people, honour positions, but keep life in perspective. Luke 14:11 says “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

ARE YOU HAPPY TODAY?

 

 

 

I was thinking this morning... In about three weeks, it will be 22 years since I joined my current organisation. For 22 years, almost every morning after greeting colleagues, I ask one simple question: “Are you happy today?” In recent years, I added another version: “Are you coco today?”

Some respond with a cheerful “Yes.” Others use the opportunity to share the burdens they are carrying. But beyond the words, the real purpose of that question has always been simple, to remind us to be thankful for another day.

This past week brought that message home in a sobering way.

It began on Sunday night with news of an explosion at a Qatar LNG plant. Thirteen people lost their lives, and 66 were injured.

Then on Wednesday came another tragic news report, this time from outside the Oil and Gas Industry. A four-storey building under construction in Port Harcourt collapsed, trapping workers beneath the rubble. Sadly, at least one person who left home that morning would never return.

So yes, when I ask, “Are you happy today?” I ask from a deeper place.

If you woke up each work day, went to work, and returned home safely, that alone is reason enough to be grateful. No be every battle we dey see with our eyes.

Safety is both a personal responsibility and an organisational duty. But beyond procedures, controls, and systems, we must never forget that life itself is a gift. Sometimes, despite every precaution, freak accidents happen. Ultimately, God is the One who keeps us.

Never take today for granted. Every safe return home is a blessing worth celebrating. Psalm 121:8 says “The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” Let me ask one more time, Are you happy today?

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

WHO WILL SPEAK FOR MEN?

I was thinking this morning… When it comes to family matters, na who write that script? And why dem no consult men before releasing the movie? Yes, women carry pregnancies and give birth, no debate there. Respect. Massive respect. But when it comes to the stress of caring for infants, men too collect premium package.

From the day our wives become pregnant, we begin running around like people wey borrow money from ten banks at once. Midnight cravings? We move. Foot massage? We report. Mood swings? We adjust. One minute she wants ice cream, next minute she wants pepper soup. If you delay small, you are now insensitive.

Then baby arrives.

We double our hustle because failure is not an option. We want to be heroes. We want that child to admire us. But after all the sleepless nights and hard work, the child’s first word is usually… Mama. Chai. Pain. Emotional damage.

After that heartbreak, we triple our hustle. This time, we work harder so our family lacks nothing. But in doing so, we spend less time at home.

Now, if you decide to stay home more often, your wife starts looking at you with that “gbejoro eye” and asks, “Hope everything is okay at work?” Your neighbours too will contribute their own analysis. “Why this man dey house like this? E no get work?” Before you know it, dem don label you agbaya consultant.

The hardest part is the unwritten rule that men must always be strong. Who made that rule? Are we robots?

Months ago, I lost my dad. During his lying-in-state, as we all walked around his remains, my sisters cried openly. They poured out their emotions freely. We the men? Everybody was looking at us like we were on some “Strong Men Association of Nigeria” executive committee.

“As the sons, be strong.” Strong ke? As how? Are we not humans too? So we did what men have mastered over generations. We wore dark glasses and behaved like undercover FBI agents, hiding tears behind tinted lenses.

But truth be told, men feel deeply too. We hurt. We cry. We break. As we say in pidgin, “Na person wey wear shoe know where e dey pinch am.” Even the strongest man gets tired.

Today, I celebrate fathers. The present fathers. The fathers carrying burdens nobody sees. The fathers showing up every day, tired but determined. Thank you for the sacrifices. Thank you for the strength. Thank you for loving, providing, protecting, and enduring. I also remember my late father on this Father's day. God bless his soul. Proverbs 20:7 says “The righteous man walks in his integrity; his children are blessed after him.”

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Father's Day!

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

NO MATTER HOW LONG YOUR MONEY IS...

 

I was thinking this morning... Some years ago, I was negotiating to buy a property in Warri and could only afford about 60% of the asking price. While still pleading with the owner of the property to consider my offer, I was told a week later that someone had offered the seller 300% of the asking price. My friend helping me with the deal just asked me to walk away because according to him, "the person money long." Though I was annoyed with the arrogant show of wealth, I wasn't surprised because that is Nigeria for you.

That memory came rushing back on Friday when Elon Musk became the world's first ever trillionaire in dollars and has $2 trillion at his fingertips after investors flocked to buy shares in SpaceX yesterday. Let me help you understand. One trillion dollars is one million million dollars. Laid end-to-end, two trillion dollar notes could wrap around the equator 3,890 times and reach the sun from the Earth. Yet, one poor man in Warri is harassing me saying "im money long." Rubbish!

What about the fans of Manchester United that will not allow us Gunners rest, because they claim to support the richest club. Yet one man, Elon Musk, could snap up Manchester United more than 281 times. Abeg sports fans, make una let us breathe.

Imagine me attending an event in Lagos recently and parking my 2020 Lexus SUV in one corner, feeling good. Just for someone to come and park his brand new 2026 Lexus beside mine, turning my car into a welfare case. If that is not oppression, then I don't know what is. That guy should go and flex muscle with Mr Musk, who could buy the world's most expensive car, a Rolls-Royce Droptail, for £25 million and even splash out on a new one every day for the next 163 years. Or he could purchase 14,000 Boeing 737s. Mtcheww.

Even more annoying is how Nigerians oppress you with joy. At another event, we were required to bless the celebrant. I went out with my hard-earned change in crisp notes. Before I could do anything, I observed one guy dropping bundles running into hundreds of thousands that made it look like I was there to sacrifice to an unknown god. He didn't see his mate, Mr Musk, who could pay off Nigeria's total public debt ($110 billion) several times over and still have enough left to tackle world hunger, na my body e dey get power.

But beyond the jokes, perhaps the lesson is that there will always be someone richer, stronger, smarter, or more influential than us. The race to impress others never ends because the finish line keeps moving. After all, no matter how long your money is, there is always somebody whose money is longer. Comparison steals joy, but contentment multiplies peace. Hebrews 13:5 says "Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have,.'"

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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