It came to my attention recently that I hadn't written in a long time. Not poems or generalities, I mean really write straight from the heart (for lack of a better phrase). Now that would be falling short of my pledge (Re: Above) to write as it is in my heart and sometimes in yours. So to placate my slightly disgruntled readers (dare I say fans? nahhh..before I am swallowed without haven been cooked), I write.
This will be the right moment to interject this disclaimer; I AM NOT A RELATIONSHIP BLOGGER! (Lol..that almost felt like I was shouting). By now if you haven't figured out the theme of this blog, then I take it you don't watch the series Gossip Girls (the scene where Chuck said to Blair, "...three words, eight letters, say it and I'm yours..."), did I lose somebody here? My apologies. Yes, today I write on love. Again. I know. Forgive me, but as a youth I hear this everyday...Love, or so it seems.
Tina Turner asked years ago, "what's love got to do with it?" And frankly the answer is, most times among youths, love has little or nothing to do with it. Confused? Don't be. I'll explain in a minute. Picture this, let me use the couple in one of my previous posts (Re: A girl's story), Bukky and Bayo as a case study. Bayo is 26, Bukky is 23. Bayo has been dating actively since he was 17. Bukky is his 6th girlfriend (not counting flings). Now, Bayo is Bukky's 3rd boyfriend. She's been dating since she was 19yrs.
When Bayo was 17, fresh out of high school, hottest boy in JAMB lesson, he "kind of" dated Jessica. Even though it was her friend, Tope he really liked, Jessy was forthcoming so he settled for her. His text message to her must have read something like this, "I'll do anything for you, anything you ask me to, I'll go anywhere for you, anywhere you want me to...", I'm sure you know the rest,(yes straight from the lyrics of the Backstreet Boys classic), and Jessy would have swooned, especially at the "I love you that ended the text". A few weeks pass and he breaks up with Jessica. You see word around was that Tope liked him too, so when he wasn't busy fetching mountains for Jessica, he was chatting Tope up, and the lovestruck girl fell. Then he finds the lyrics of yet another song, maybe this time something by Westlife, and sends it to Tope, of course signed off with "I love you".
And so I ask, what's love got to do with it?
I'll skip his romantic escapades and jump to his 3rd year in the university. By this time he is 21, one of the most popular boys in school and the life of the party. He has girls craving his attention,some he gives audience, some he doesn't. But there was this one girl in his set, Chichi, that left him tongue tied. Try as he may, Chichi would have nothing to do with him. You see, she was one of the "good girls". But you know what they say about persistence, it eventually paid off, and so their romance began. They were the school's hottest couple. Bayo had reduced his infidelity to its barest minimum because he couldn't risk Chichi finding out. At some point, Chichi had agreed with Bayo that her friends were jealous, hence spreading rumours about him. You see Bayo "loved" Chichi, he just couldn't help the occasional straying. Maybe it was peer pressure, maybe it wasn't. Who knows! After all he had only his university days to play around as he had decided to be 100% committed after school. She was wife material so he was pretty sure his mum wouldn't mind that she was Ibo. But her parents had other ideas. They had arranged for her, the son of her father's business partner as her husband to be. Though she fought it, her folks eventually made her see reason. She broke it off with Bayo in a 5 paged text message that ended with "...I love you, always have, always will". Four months later she was married.
And so I ask, what's love got to do with it?
By this time, Bayo is heart broken and has sworn off love . He resorts to flings and reverts to his bad boy ways, falling in and out of relationships. Girls tried and failed to win his devotion as he was the toast of the town; young, good-looking and successful. He carries on this way till he is 24 going on 25 and then meets Bukky at a wedding. Well spoken, intelligent, beautiful, and with a body to die for, Bukky was perfect. She was the one. After all, it was time to think about settling down. He and Bukky hit it off immediately, they go on a date or two and 2 months into their friendship, they begin dating. Bayo could confidently say he loved Bukky. All his friends knew her, she was welcome in his family, she knew just how to cater to him, he called her at odd times just to say "I loveyou". As I said, she was perfect. Before you knew it, they were celebrating their 1st year anniversary in Dubai. Bayo stayed faithful for a whole year, and then in the middle of their 2nd year together, this Delilah was employed in his office as an NYSC student. SHE WAS HOT!!! Not in the same way as Bukky, but she held her own. While Bukky was mature and calculated, she was fun and impulsive. She just had this endearing persona, and what started off as office cordiality evolved into chemistry. He had 80%, but craved the remaining 20%. And so he cheated. This heralded the era of the phone calls that were sometimes not picked, and the meetings that lasted till 12am.
He loved Bukky....but then again, what's love got to do with it?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a cynic. I believe strongly in love I'm even a romantic, but be that as it may, these questions fill my head.
Are we allowed to fall in and out of love as often as we change wardrobes?
Do all boys cheat? Do all girls?
Are there still single people out there?
Are we disillusioned to expect our loved ones not to cheat?
Do we love everyone we dated?
Is dating overrated?
Should we remain single till someone proposes?
Is marriage a guarantee for love?
Is love a sacred feeling to be shared between husband and wife?
What really is love?
While I don't have answers to all these questions, I mean, to each his own, I do know what love is. Or what it should be.
Love is patient; kind; doesn't envy; doesn't boast; isn't proud; isn't rude; isn't self-seeking; is not easily angered; keeps no record of wrong doing; doesn't delight in evil; rejoices with the truth; always protects; always trusts; always hopes; always perseveres; Never Fails. (1 Cor 13: 4-8)
So when next you go off writing or saying these three words, eight letters---I Love You, check if it meets all these parameters.
Jan 4, 2011
Dec 29, 2010
M.A.D
I'm not mad.
No, my home isn't situated on d left side of yaba.
I'm not mad.
I do not walk from street to street naked.
I'm not mad.
I do not spot unkempt dreadlocks
I'm not mad.
I do not jabber away incoherently.
I'm not mad.
Or am I?
Now I think of it maybe I am.
Mad at the number of underprivileged children turned beggars.
Mad at a system that condones a five year old hawking on the roadside
Mad at a system that makes it impossible for a child to gain quality education.
Mad at a system which forces kids to turn to delinquency.
But I guess it is their fault, right?
After all they asked to be born into poverty!
The millions all over the world who die physically and mentally every day.
Like quicksilver, here one minute, and gone the next.
They desire to live life anticipating the very worst right?
They deserve to be robbed of their innocence?
They are but mere victims of the harsh realities of life.
Children who have a right to basic education..just like you and I.
Children who have the right to make something of their lives.
Children who deserve the same opportunities as their counterparts.
It tugs the heart, seeing treasures wasting away.
These are would be presidents, doctors, lawyers.
Would be musicians, mechanics, pilots.
Diamonds in the rough.
Who need just some polish to make them shine
They need a hand..to help them get by
They need a smile..every once in a while.
They need me. They need you.
They need us..
To make a difference in their lives.
As recited at the M.A.D(Making A Difference) charity fashion show held on 22/12/2010.
No, my home isn't situated on d left side of yaba.
I'm not mad.
I do not walk from street to street naked.
I'm not mad.
I do not spot unkempt dreadlocks
I'm not mad.
I do not jabber away incoherently.
I'm not mad.
Or am I?
Now I think of it maybe I am.
Mad at the number of underprivileged children turned beggars.
Mad at a system that condones a five year old hawking on the roadside
Mad at a system that makes it impossible for a child to gain quality education.
Mad at a system which forces kids to turn to delinquency.
But I guess it is their fault, right?
After all they asked to be born into poverty!
The millions all over the world who die physically and mentally every day.
Like quicksilver, here one minute, and gone the next.
They desire to live life anticipating the very worst right?
They deserve to be robbed of their innocence?
They are but mere victims of the harsh realities of life.
Children who have a right to basic education..just like you and I.
Children who have the right to make something of their lives.
Children who deserve the same opportunities as their counterparts.
It tugs the heart, seeing treasures wasting away.
These are would be presidents, doctors, lawyers.
Would be musicians, mechanics, pilots.
Diamonds in the rough.
Who need just some polish to make them shine
They need a hand..to help them get by
They need a smile..every once in a while.
They need me. They need you.
They need us..
To make a difference in their lives.
As recited at the M.A.D(Making A Difference) charity fashion show held on 22/12/2010.
Dec 17, 2010
The Diary Of An IT Student
It all began one fine morning when I reported for work at (let's call it) Agency X.
As I said it was a fine morning. The fact that I hardly had 5 hours of sleep the previous night due to excitement at the prospect of working in this particular company did nothing to deter my mood.
I was in high spirits you see. The night before I had spent a couple of hours, (and when I say couple I don't mean two) searching for the appropriate outfit for my first day at work. Seeking help from friends on twitter and my blackberry contacts (you know yourselves, God bless your obliging souls). Seeing me, one would have thought this was my first working experience even though I had done a holiday job in a bank 2 years before. But there was just something about Agency X. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was a well respected agency in the advertising industry (oops..I've given you a clue). Anyway, where was I? Ahh..yes! It was a fine morning indeed.
However, if I thought I was going to be filled with the same joie de verve every day for the 2 months I would be there for, I was soon to be faced with the harsh truth.
For the first week I diligently resumed position in front of the mirror every night deciding on the outfit to wear to work the next day. Sadly this didn't last past the first week. When you leave the house at 7am and get home by 8pm the last thing on your mind is clothes (after all I was there to learn and not to do fashion parade). Don't get me wrong I loved working in Agency X but after a while I soon appreciated the real essence of TGIF (Thank God Its Friday). Dearest Friday. If not for anything..for the fact that I got to wake up as late as 9am sometimes (I know right..thank God for small mercies). Then there was the long and tiring journey home (sigh). And that is that on the down side of being an IT student in Agency X. (And I'm not patronising, I mean it..that's all there is to it).
Now on the flip side. Where do I begin? (The correct response at this point will be, "at the beginning" right? Thank you Captain Obvious). But how does one begin to cram at least 7hrs of working goodness out of d 9hrs(officially, unofficially 10/11hrs depending on what I have on my desk) I spent at work daily for 2months into a blog post? But try I shall. While at Agency X I learnt A LOT, a whole lot. I learnt responsibility, deadline compliance, trust, team work, crisis management, people management, and lots more; that is, beside all the PR and AD on the job training I got. And yes, I met some of the most wonderful people ever. People that will be etched in my memory for the rest of my life.
There was my HOD." Oyinbo" as he is called by a few of his colleagues. This man right here was my teacher and friend. Minutes in his office could see us discussing the next proposal he wanted me to draw up, and the next thing you know, we are gisting about his youthful days. He believed in me. And for that I appreciate him. He had a nice name too.
There was "Constie"..what a beautiful and down to earth person. Oh yea..and she took no nonsense from anyone. Funny too.
There was "Flakky".."Iyawo"..lol..my first friend in the office. Sweet and sensitive.
There was "Gadafi"..diplomatic..my Gee.
There was "Dolly"..this girl can eat! Good thing it doesn't tell on her figure. My small but mighty friend.
There was "Toks"..my bestfriend in d office. My Amazingly talented sweetheart.
There was "Deji"..always teasing me..to whom I'm grateful for introducing me 2 d company.
There was "Bayo"..who walked me to the bustop everyday. My caretaker..beautiful soul.
There was "MM"..my hoodrat..lol..very cheerful..I love this girl.
There was "MD"..this man had swagger.
There was "Yemisi"...thanks to him I got a placement in the agency.
There was "Mrs. Alli"..my namesake's mum..if not for anything, for that I liked her, among her other great attributes even though she never let me print in her department.
And the whole family..my "sweeties" the receptionists who "chopped knuckles" every morning, Mr. Issa, Tobi, Bimpe, Sister Mary, Aunty Philo (my customers), and the list continues...
As I write this I have tears in my eyes (forgive me, I'm quite the waterfall). So many people I'm going to miss. So many things I'd miss out on; the little office friction and chemistry, the office gist, the shows, working to meet a deadline. I would miss it all.
But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
To this tall building that had come to be my second home..the middle finger goes up, and the index finger follows..DEUCES!
As I said it was a fine morning. The fact that I hardly had 5 hours of sleep the previous night due to excitement at the prospect of working in this particular company did nothing to deter my mood.
I was in high spirits you see. The night before I had spent a couple of hours, (and when I say couple I don't mean two) searching for the appropriate outfit for my first day at work. Seeking help from friends on twitter and my blackberry contacts (you know yourselves, God bless your obliging souls). Seeing me, one would have thought this was my first working experience even though I had done a holiday job in a bank 2 years before. But there was just something about Agency X. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was a well respected agency in the advertising industry (oops..I've given you a clue). Anyway, where was I? Ahh..yes! It was a fine morning indeed.
However, if I thought I was going to be filled with the same joie de verve every day for the 2 months I would be there for, I was soon to be faced with the harsh truth.
For the first week I diligently resumed position in front of the mirror every night deciding on the outfit to wear to work the next day. Sadly this didn't last past the first week. When you leave the house at 7am and get home by 8pm the last thing on your mind is clothes (after all I was there to learn and not to do fashion parade). Don't get me wrong I loved working in Agency X but after a while I soon appreciated the real essence of TGIF (Thank God Its Friday). Dearest Friday. If not for anything..for the fact that I got to wake up as late as 9am sometimes (I know right..thank God for small mercies). Then there was the long and tiring journey home (sigh). And that is that on the down side of being an IT student in Agency X. (And I'm not patronising, I mean it..that's all there is to it).
Now on the flip side. Where do I begin? (The correct response at this point will be, "at the beginning" right? Thank you Captain Obvious). But how does one begin to cram at least 7hrs of working goodness out of d 9hrs(officially, unofficially 10/11hrs depending on what I have on my desk) I spent at work daily for 2months into a blog post? But try I shall. While at Agency X I learnt A LOT, a whole lot. I learnt responsibility, deadline compliance, trust, team work, crisis management, people management, and lots more; that is, beside all the PR and AD on the job training I got. And yes, I met some of the most wonderful people ever. People that will be etched in my memory for the rest of my life.
There was my HOD." Oyinbo" as he is called by a few of his colleagues. This man right here was my teacher and friend. Minutes in his office could see us discussing the next proposal he wanted me to draw up, and the next thing you know, we are gisting about his youthful days. He believed in me. And for that I appreciate him. He had a nice name too.
There was "Constie"..what a beautiful and down to earth person. Oh yea..and she took no nonsense from anyone. Funny too.
There was "Flakky".."Iyawo"..lol..my first friend in the office. Sweet and sensitive.
There was "Gadafi"..diplomatic..my Gee.
There was "Dolly"..this girl can eat! Good thing it doesn't tell on her figure. My small but mighty friend.
There was "Toks"..my bestfriend in d office. My Amazingly talented sweetheart.
There was "Deji"..always teasing me..to whom I'm grateful for introducing me 2 d company.
There was "Bayo"..who walked me to the bustop everyday. My caretaker..beautiful soul.
There was "MM"..my hoodrat..lol..very cheerful..I love this girl.
There was "MD"..this man had swagger.
There was "Yemisi"...thanks to him I got a placement in the agency.
There was "Mrs. Alli"..my namesake's mum..if not for anything, for that I liked her, among her other great attributes even though she never let me print in her department.
And the whole family..my "sweeties" the receptionists who "chopped knuckles" every morning, Mr. Issa, Tobi, Bimpe, Sister Mary, Aunty Philo (my customers), and the list continues...
As I write this I have tears in my eyes (forgive me, I'm quite the waterfall). So many people I'm going to miss. So many things I'd miss out on; the little office friction and chemistry, the office gist, the shows, working to meet a deadline. I would miss it all.
But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
To this tall building that had come to be my second home..the middle finger goes up, and the index finger follows..DEUCES!
Dec 1, 2010
thisABILITY
I am labelled
Because I speak with spasmodic repetition of syllables
Words in my heart, out my mouth they tumble
To put in coherence becomes a struggle
So I fumble.
I try again till I pronounce "bu-bu-bu-bble"
Till I make sense of the words I juggle.
I'm not upset
Though I long to see the sunset
The colour of my skin I do not know
For lack of options I go with the flow
I do not sway
Everyday my stick hits the walkway
Searching for obstacles in my vicinity
I brave the odds, I exercise my virility.
In a crowd I am jostled
From right to left I hobble
A condition without remedy
A fixture in stand up comedy
The sound of the laughter
A contrast to my life's chapter
I swallow my misgivings
On bent legs I earn a living.
I long to be wanted
Appreciated
Celebrated
But with your eyes I'm castigated
Relegated
Rejected
Most times isolated
A price paid for a condition not I created.
Some days I snap. I cry. I curse.
I mourn the day my world went off course.
And when I'm done I mop it up.
I gather my wits.
Nose in the air, I stick it up.
I stretch, I search, I reach from within.
I look for a talent that is uniquely me.
I do my best knowing it may never be enough.
I do it still to prove my worth.
My push.
My driving force.
What you call disability
Heralds thisABILITY.
Because I speak with spasmodic repetition of syllables
Words in my heart, out my mouth they tumble
To put in coherence becomes a struggle
So I fumble.
I try again till I pronounce "bu-bu-bu-bble"
Till I make sense of the words I juggle.
I'm not upset
Though I long to see the sunset
The colour of my skin I do not know
For lack of options I go with the flow
I do not sway
Everyday my stick hits the walkway
Searching for obstacles in my vicinity
I brave the odds, I exercise my virility.
In a crowd I am jostled
From right to left I hobble
A condition without remedy
A fixture in stand up comedy
The sound of the laughter
A contrast to my life's chapter
I swallow my misgivings
On bent legs I earn a living.
I long to be wanted
Appreciated
Celebrated
But with your eyes I'm castigated
Relegated
Rejected
Most times isolated
A price paid for a condition not I created.
Some days I snap. I cry. I curse.
I mourn the day my world went off course.
And when I'm done I mop it up.
I gather my wits.
Nose in the air, I stick it up.
I stretch, I search, I reach from within.
I look for a talent that is uniquely me.
I do my best knowing it may never be enough.
I do it still to prove my worth.
My push.
My driving force.
What you call disability
Heralds thisABILITY.
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