FUEL SUBSIDY – ACTION AND REACTION

This is what Nigeria woke up to on the 1st of January 2012, our New Years’ gift from our darling President:

PPPRA Announces Formal Removal of Subsidy on Premium Motor Spirit (PMS)
Following extensive consultation with stakeholders across the nation, the Petroleum Products Pricing Regulatory Agency (PPPRA) wishes to inform all stakeholders of the commencement of formal removal of subsidy on Premium Motor Spirit (PMS), in accordance with the powers conferred on the agency by the law establishing it, in compliance with Section 7 of PPPRA Act, 2004.

By this announcement, the downstream sub-sector of the petroleum industry is hereby deregulated for PMS. Service providers in the sector are now to procure products and sell same in accordance with the indicative benchmark price to be published forthnightly and posted on the PPPRA website.

Petroleum products marketers are to note that no one will be paid subsidy on PMS discharges after 1st January 2012.

Consumers are assured of adequate supply of quality products at prices that are competitive and non-exploitative and so there is no need for anyone to engage in panic buying or product hoarding.

The PPPRA in conjunction with the Department of Petroleum Resources (DPR) will ensure that consumers are not taken advantage of in any form or in any way.

The DPR will ensure that the interest of the consumer in terms of quality of products is guaranteed at all times and in line with international best practice.

In the coming weeks, the PPPRA will engage stakeholders in further consultation to ensure the continuation of this exercise in a hitch-free manner.

Signed:
Reginald Stanley
Executive Secretary, PPPRA

Ok, in simple English, that press release means that fuel which sold for 65naira on the 31st of December 2011, now goes for 138naira at Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) Mega stations, and 141naira almost everywhere else. To my mind, this is madness. And for a number of reasons.

1. This country LIVES on fuel. We need fuel to run our generators at home and at work because there is NO electricity.

2. There are no palliative measures in place to cushion the effect of this subsidy removal, nothing at all. Were salaries increased? No. Cost of survival (since we’re not living anymore) reduced? No.

3. This removal should have been done in April 2012, why ‘spring’ it on the people on the 1st of January, and not even have the courtesy to address your people yourself?

4. Where are the funds to be saved from the subsidy going?  Subsidy has been removed from kerosene and diesel for some years now, where did those savings go?

5. Again, priorities have been misplaced. There’s Boko Haram slowly wiping out whole states, unemployment, the growing rate of sexual crimes, epileptic electricity and Mr. President takes decisive action on fuel subsidy?

I decided to sweep Facebook and Twitter, to see the reaction of Nigerians (both at home and in the diaspora) to this gift from Mr. President. They’ll be pictures, quotes, basically reactions from a people who are fed up with an insensitive government.

 

 

And yes, below are a number of comments off Goodluck Jonathan‘s Facebook page following the removal of the fuel subsidy.

End of reactions phase one, with this Facebook status update from my friend Amina Maikori, “Hmmm! No point lighting a match in a dark room to make sure no one accidentally sprinkled any gunpowder on your bicycle…GEJ, make what you will from that, sir.”

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MERRY CHRISTMAS

So this post is three days late, but I said I wouldn’t change anything to accommodate that. Below you’ll find it exactly as it was when I first wrote it! Why? Because it is the thought that counts!

Merry Christmas earthlings! It’s the 25th day of December 2011, also known and celebrated worldwide as Christmas Day! (That’s just in case you thought it was Easter or Thanksgiving, lol). It is on this day the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is celebrated around the world, and is a day of joy, peace, merriment, and most importantly, a day for reflection on the reason why He came. Let’s try not to drown the reason why He came in food, drinks, and merry-making.

I wrote a little something on the day, and read it in church….. enjoy..

Image via yourstrulywashere.blogspot.com

what is Christmas?

new clothes, shoes, watches

food, drink, gifts, clutches,

all building up to the day

 

what is Christmas?

the birth of one so dear

without sin but bore without fear

Lamb, precious Lamb of God

 

what is Christmas?

partying, music, loud celebration

casting aside the king of creation

is that why He came?

 

sharing love, hugs and kisses

lifting brethren out of ditches

consecration, dedication, service to Jesus

this is Christmas

 

Merry Christmas to you and yours!!!

 

N:B – Guess who’s here to spend Christmas with me? It’s none other than my besto, the delectable Miss Mangut! @debiemangut on Twitter, she’s such wonderful company, a great friend, and the best bestie anyone could ask for!

At the cinema to see 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo'.....

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THANKSGIVING

January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December! A full year! And we’re still here!

From when I was a child, my mom ingrained in all of us that we had a lot to be thankful for. Even when it seemed like stuff was going/had gone south, not only would she remind us that there were people who were worse off, but we had the assurance that we would get through. After all, God said in that “there is no temptation”. And honestly, he always made a way of escape. Every single time. We were never overwhelmed. When it looked like we had hit rock bottom (I captured an aspect of that in my ‘My Unending Miracle’ chronicle), He made a way out for us. And I’m grateful, eternally grateful.

What is there not to be grateful for? I’ve got the best family on earth, nuclear and extended! God’s been good to us; we’ve had loads of weddings, births, and reasons to celebrate, confirming His word about ‘setting the solitary up in families’ (Psalm 68:6). Everyone is doing well; He has prospered us, and comforted us in times of sorrow. How do we thank Him for waking us up every single day, without fail? What if He ‘forgot’ one random day? Or if us humans were put in charge of waking the next person? God have mercy on you if you pissed off the person supposed to turn on your switch the next day! And you know we humans can be very vindictive.

More than ever, every day I’m grateful I don’t have any disability. I’ll always be grateful for that. Truth is, it is God’s mercies o! If you doubt me, have you ever wondered about all these diseases/illnesses that you don’t necessarily have any causative factors but just happen anyway? All them ‘one in twenty people will suffer so and so in their lifetime’? Why wasn’t I that one person? Why wasn’t it you? I’ll tell you another truth, albeit a very sad one; regardless of how accessible or accommodating the society you live in or the people you live with are, a disability is what it is. So I submit, it is of His mercies that I haven’t been consumed! Thank you Jesus!

I’ve been ill a couple of times this year, but I’ve always gotten better. People die everyday from colds, malaria, and other like illnesses I’ve come back from. I think back at May, when I got a procedure done on my left eye. Not a scar, and my eyes are fine! Ladies and gentlemen, God’s been good!

Do I talk about journey mercies He gives everyday? We go out, come back, there’s no evil report. He keeps us safe from evil, doesn’t allow the devil take advantage of the mistakes we’ve made, we are kept secure by His grace. And in these days of Boko Haram, random devilish explosions here and there, kidnappings, robberies, He’s kept us safe. Don’t take it for granted o, especially since we’re not more righteous or better placed than the ones who’ve passed on. What else can you call this testimony by my dear friend Mina?

Thank you for your mercies Jesus, this could only be you!

Christmas is here again, and for me this is the season to be thankful.In all the merriment, feasting et al, take a few minutes each day to reflect, and be  thankful for where you are. You might not be where you want to be (yet), might not have all the millions you want (yet), but you’re not where you were at the beginning of the year. That’s a lot to be grateful for, ladies and gentlemen.

My submission? For where I was, where I am now, and the glorious heights ahead of me, I am thankful!

That's my 'thankful' face!

ONE OF THOSE FLIGHTS

I hung out with a dear friend recently, she’s here in England to study ‘modelling and management of risk’ and walai, it has tripled the respect I have for her. In academics, there are two classes of people I respect; people who love maths, and people who love maths so much that they study it! I remember the tremor in my heart in Secondary School every time I knew we’d have math for first period, how I got a ‘C’ in my A Levels is beyond me! We had some maths gurus then, but when one of them said she was going to study further mathematics at Uni I must confess I kinda stopped liking her very much! What! I can’t understand things ‘as basic as quadratic equations‘ (rolling my eyes at my math teacher for saying it was basic), and you want to study further maths at Uni? Kai!

Anyway, I think I’m a bigger person now, because the friend I hung out with today studied…….(wait for it)….MATH for her first degree, and I still like her a lot. *hugs*

Ok, so after we prowled Oxford Street (the definition of girls ‘hanging out’), we started gisting on the train home, and somehow it  moved to flights. That’s funny enough. Then it moved to ’embarrassing moments on flights with Nigerians‘. Before I go on, what’s your story? Local or international, what has irked/amused or just totally cracked you up?

We started from the ‘rousing ovation syndrome’, and Fe told about (as I have heard severally before) about our people giving the pilot an ovation when he lands and is taxiing the plane to where they get off. Most culpable route? The Dubai–Lagos flight, on any airline. I won’t even start World War Three by mentioning (or even hinting at) the most culpable Nigerian geopolitical zone! I learnt that if the flight was without incident, then the pilot gets a regular applause, nothing special. But if there was turbulence anytime during the flight, ahh! Not only does he get a rousing ovation, some take the liberty to stand (never mind the ‘keep your seat belts fastened’ rule) and pour blessings on the pilot, which is a bad idea in itself because he CANNOT hear!

I told the story I’ve shared here before about the man who sat beside me on a flight from N’Djamena to Douala. That was just as sad as it was hilarious!

Another one comes to mind; I was flying from Lagos to Abuja, one of those days when I knew that thanks to the airline, I was going to be late for work. And it was a Monday morning, the worst day in the world to be late, or appear ruffled due to the mental/emotional exhaustion of driving the taxi with the cabbie!

I wasn’t in the mood to chat, was saving my energy for explanations back at the office. Till I noticed the guy in the seat next to mine didn’t hurt my sight; matter of fact, he looked really nice. I ran through a little list in my head, shoes and belt matched, crisp shirt, light whiff of his cologne…… ‘Not bad’ I thought. Just as I looked away, he said ‘hey’, and I smiled (more inwardly than outwardly of course). He said he’d seen me look at my watch a few times in the last minute so he was sure I was running late as well. ‘Doesn’t sound half bad too’, sucker for accents that I am. After a few minutes of chatting I turned away, and was counting down to exchanging numbers at the end of the flight. *wink*

Man proposes, God disposes. Abi? 25 minutes into the flight, what started out as a beautiful sunny morning suddenly turned dark and cloudy. With the clouds came turbulence in epic proportions. God of my fathers! I was AFRAID, there’s no other way to say it. I prayed, asking God to remember my service in His kingdom and have mercy, and if mine wasn’t enough, to consider my parents. Anything, I just knew I didn’t want to perish!

The hitherto suave young man beside was obviously more terrified than I was. Before I closed my eyes to pray, he had maintained a calm mien, like he didn’t notice the chaos. Just as I opened my eyes, and wanted to hold his arm (for support, lol!) the plane dipped. Immediately I heard, ‘chim o! Obara Jesus! Onye nwanyi gbaghara!’ What!! In spite of myself and the situation at hand, I started laughing. I laughed even harder when I realized the chants were coming from the guy! Ah! Where did the accent go? I could have sworn he wasn’t Nigerian before!

God being merciful (as always), we left the troubled spot, and 40 minutes later were taxiing to a stop at Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport. ‘Can I get your number’, baby boy said, assuming his cool demeanor again. ‘Nope’, I replied, without missing a beat. After that episode? No way! I smiled at him, got off the plane, and laughed all the way to my office. Na wa!

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#DearFutureHusband

Did you have a nice weekend? Did too! Start from having a fabulous week; bestie came to Birmingham for a few days and we had a lot of fun! From catching up, to seeing a movie (‘In Time’ was amazing), to the workshop at Apple, to endless shopping (bet you thought I wouldn’t get here), boy did we have fun!

Bestie and I shopping!

For the weekend, I popped with my flatmate to her aunt’s for her baby’s dedication. I had promised about a month ago that I’d come to help (plus I’d bought the train ticket already) so I went. Was it a lot of work? Definitely! Did I enjoy helping out? Of course! By the way, I nearly  missed my coach but that’s another story, one you probably should have heard too many times to be excited or amused about. Two major downsides to the trip sha, I missed service at my home church, and secondly (less important) a John Grisham novel I was reading didn’t exactly end the way I thought it would. *sigh*

Anyways, so I’m on the train home after my very eventful weekend (past  8.30pm), and suddenly the peace and quiet is shattered by the entrance of five heavily made up teenagers, one of them with enormous hips (or hips that don’t lie). Apart from the fact that I was disgusted by the amount of noise the urchins whipped up, I wondered where they were headed to, at that time. ‘Maybe home’, I thought, trying desperately to ignore the ruckus and concentrate on my novel. I was sure they weren’t headed home because of the transformation two of them underwent in a few minutes of them being on the train. Hijabs (the hair and face covering Muslim ladies wear) were lost, revealing long, flowing, already styled tresses of beautiful hair, no doubt well prepared for this time. Different hues of red touched already glossy lips, and in no time they all looked ready to model blood red lipstick for Elizabeth Arden or Revlon.

The question would be, where were these ladies headed, at this time of the night? And before you ask what I was doing/where I was going, I already explained above; I was heading home after a hard, yet very pleasurable day. And yes, I gave the girls at least 10 years on their ages, and where I’m from it is not best practise to question you elders! *sticks tongue out*

I imagine they told their folks they were going to have sleep-overs at each other’s house, and knowing parents wouldn’t check, met up somewhere, and disappeared.

Not acceptable. Full stop.

Or worse, as kids in these parts are wont to do, they would have ‘battled’ their parents for the right to go out, for whatever reason. I say battled because not only do I watch episodes of their lives on TV, I was at a friend’s when her younger sister (a very beautiful 14-year-old) tried the ‘this-is-the-land-of-the-free-and-the-brave-and-children-have-the-right-to-say-whatever-they-want’ on their mom, a lady from the Western part of Nigeria. Of course it didn’t end well, and if there had been an award for the parent with the fastest reflexes, walai this mom would have gotten it! I’ve never seen a slap that fast; the way she silenced her eye-rolling, rough-necking daughter.

Makes me wonder about my own upbringing and how my husband and I will raise our children. I’ve come to understand that are God’s gifts, and we are only caretakers. And I plan to take care of my own very well I tell you!

So, #DearFutureHusband, together we will

• Raise our champions (what my dad calls us) in the knowledge and fear of the Lord, us, and their society.
• I don’t believe this ‘times have changed’ gist; crap, crap, mega crap. Some values are ageless, respect inclusive. Certain things will NOT be acceptable, like having our 14-year-old out in the streets/in trains with their friends at 10pm.
• Ensure that to the best of our ability, our kids have a brilliant education. And lots of fun while they’re at it.
• Most importantly, show them every day that we love them (to the moon and back), and that their welfare (and wellbeing) is uppermost in our hearts.

Loving you in advance,

Your Future Wife.

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I’M BACK, and SORRY!

Good morning world!!

*now singing, in Bryan Adams voice* Please forgive me, I don’t know what to do, please forgive me, I can’t stop loving you! Followers, subscribers, and friends of the Fairy GodSister, forgive me! I’ve been away for far too long! I know, and I’m sorry! It’s not like I didn’t write o, it was translating the blurb to an actual post that was a bit of a challenge; not because I’ve forgotten how to use a computer (lol) but because stuff has been happening a tad too fast these past couple weeks and I’m only just getting my rhythm back. Bottom line, I apologise. E ma bi nu o!!!! Forgive me! I’m back now, and guess what, I’m going back to where I stopped, and you’ll get my thoughts on just about everything that has happened/is happening, however stale or fresh. K?

This is one of best pictures ever! And no, I'm not blaming anyone for not being available, it's all me!

To start us on good, smooth path, I woke up this beautiful Thursday morning (totally ignoring the fog and blistering cold outside), and after speaking to my Dad and Sister, started playing over and over again a song by my best Nigerian artist. Forget the fact that music is food for the soul, bla the bla, I doubt that listening to Terry G, DMX, or Cabo Snoop early in the morning will be the right diet for ANY soul. Agreed? Of course you agree.

First time I heard the song, late March this year, I cried like a baby! Not only is the artist brilliant, she is socially responsible, and the song came at the right time. Just as we were prepping for the April elections, we needed the boost that this song brought, the hope, and that ‘ginger’ (especially for young people) to go out and perform their civic duties. Funny, but these days I can easily equate the song to our national anthem, because they both give me goose bumps, and an intense sense of pride to be Nigerian whenever I hear them.

Did I mention she now follows me on Twitter too? I can remember how excited I was the night she did! I had just finished blogging (and the song is an excellent blogging companion), and then I tweeted, saying that she, and Eldee The Don were my best socially conscious Nigerian artists, and they are. She followed me that night, and I’m looking forward to meeting her (or working together on a project, whichever comes first), but you’ll be the first to know ok!

I’ll send you on your way to a beautiful start to the weekend (since Thursday is the new Friday) with ‘The Future is Here’ by TY BELLO. Have a fabulous, super productive day, and know this, the Fairy GodSister is back! She loves you, and thanks you for always being there!

http://vimeo.com/21851862

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What’s the worst injury you’ve ever sustained?

To start with, the inspiration for this chronicle was found on WordPress, after I put up my 103rd post. I guess they felt that after sometime you run out of things to write about. On the one hand I agree with them; if your posts always revolve around love, there’s only so much you can write about! On the other hand, life is so exciting, there’ll always be something to write about! Pleasant or unpleasant, joyous or sombre, informative or just for entertainment; I believe there’s always something worth sharing with others.

So, what’s your worst injury? Physical o! If we’re talking emotional scars I’d just do a book at once, I’m sure one chronicle won’t be enough to tell the stories! According to Natasha Beddingfield, ‘I bruise easily’. Moving on, one condition for reading this post is that you must share one story of yours in the comments section. Agreed?

This story is set in the East, sometime in 1996. I was a few months from going to boarding school for the first time, and looking forward to having and being in control of my own provisions (whoop whoop)!! We lived in Owerri, Imo State at the time and our family friends lived around us, with young children about my age.

Now, if memory serves me right, Momma had asked us to go for the midweek service with her but we said we had homework. Now that I think of it, I wonder how/why she left us at home that day because I grew up with church more as reflex than an option.

Anyways, so she left, and after rushing through the said homework (I’m not even sure again if we even did it) we rushed to the house of my family friend on our bicycles. After we got bored playing in the house, we decided to hold ‘World Bicycle Championship’. We piled outside, mounted, and started racing. I won a few, lost a few, and then I said I was leaving because mom would be back home soon and if I was sweating (like I was then) I’d have some major explaining to do!

World Bicycle Championship ke nan!

“One more race”,  the urchins pleaded that we did just one more. I didn’t need too much convincing anyway, and so we agreed. We had sighted their uncle at the end of the road and so the first person to reach Uncle Adimabuo (Igbo name literally translated to mean ‘I am not two’) would be the ‘winner winner’ or ‘ultimate champion’.

On your marks, get set, go! We took off, and being one of the stronger riders, I was soon in the lead. Then I felt something hit my back tyre, and next thing I knew, I was on the floor. Now there were three problems with that fall:

1. We had been racing on the road in the estate, which wasn’t totally done. It was a granite/asphalt/dirt road. Forming a picture in your mind yet?

2. We were speeding (duh, it was the World Championship), so when I fell my tyre continued spinning ( sturvs, lol)

3. I was wearing shorts and a shirt, so I wasn’t exactly covered. Feeling sorry for me yet?

If by now you are wincing from the pain/injury you’re imagining I endured, buy yourself a drink. I scraped both knees (majorly), my hands, it was horrible. Plus I was about 10 or eleven; the fact that I wasn’t a teenager yet compounded my fear, pain, fear, and pain again! My young mind was literally ‘between a rock and a hard place’; I was bothered (afraid even) of what my mom would do to me because she expressly said not to leave the house when she was going out. Not only did I disobey (which was an offence like the sin of witchcraft – 1 Samuel 15:23), but I had soiled my clothes, and worse still, hurt myself. In between that I was in excruciating pains and the blood I was seeing was almost driving me mad!

By the way, some people might have a low pain threshold, I don't have anything!

I cried that day eh! I’d never felt that much pain before! And then they had to cut the skin hanging, and then clean the wound with Milton (which my aunty had lied to me was water). The pain was unbearable, akin only to a heartbreak I endured like 10 years after.

By the time Momma got home from service, my friends’ mom had taken me home and was assuring me that ‘everything would be alright’. My darling mother (bless her heart) looked at me, saw my red, swollen eyes, and ‘had mercy’. She became preoccupied with soothing my pain, apparently the injuries were punishment enough.

The next few days were spent petting me (especially at bath times when water and soap would touch the wounds), and me getting practically anything I wanted because I was injured. I think I got stitches (not sure because I don’t see how I wouldn’t remember that) but how many years after, I still have visible reminders of that day in my mind, and an engraved version of the commandment, ‘CHILDREN OBEY YOUR PARENTS’!

This knuckle is for you!

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TO DO? DONE!!

What one thing can’t you seem to scratch off your to-do list? How do you ensure you finish your tasks on time? Do you wait till the final hour, and then savour the adrenaline rush as you fight to meet your deadline?

Amongst the many peculiarities I have (as a fairy), I have found that I have this habit of leaving things to the last minute. My close friends will testify to running for trains, buses, etc., and in Nigeria, frantic scrambling to the airport, especially to the airport!

This picture is a screenshot of my life; sometimes I wonder why I'm not skinnier, I'm almost always running somewhere!

One particular airport race comes to mind: in July I was in Nigeria and I had to visit Lagos like every other weekend to work and/or play. For one of the trips, the flight was scheduled for 10.08am and apart from the boarding gate closing 40 minutes to take-off (more like three minutes in reality sha); you need to give an hour and a half for traffic on the way to the airport, and possible chaotic queues at the boarding gates. Not to mention the single luggage and body scanner that can take anything from 4 minutes to an hour (again depending on the queue).

Anyways, so with all the above you would think I’d have left the house by 8am abi? For where? I think I was deciding what to wear then. Lol. I got a taxi about 8.45am and we set off, then I remembered I needed to pop into my old office to pick something I’d need in Lagos. So, to the office we went.

9am. The item I was to pick up was ready, but the code (or something) was with another human being somewhere else in this world, the item was useless without it, and I didn’t want to risk taking it and then not being able to use it.

9.15am. finally got it sorted, cursed myself for not making arrangements to drive myself to the airport, threatened the cabbie that I’d eat his heart (or something just as scary) if I missed the flight, and starting to think of Plan B because I was sure I would miss it.

9.50am. Taxi guy made it there in record time, and I told myself I would tip him generously. Alas, the queue waiting at the gate perished the thought. Of course my brethren were cutting the queue so the line was longer, and a little chaotic. My adrenaline level was legendary, and I started praying for something to delay the flight. Anything.

9.56am. We were inside the airport now, but by that First Bank signboard. I decided the taxi guy had tried (and also because I didn’t want to be in the car if/when he bumped into another car) so I came down, LEFT MY LUGGAGE IN THE CAR, and ran to get my boarding pass, heels and all.

That's how foolish I felt for leaving my luggage in the car! Warrahell!

9.59am. Boarding pass in hand (one fast, semi-argument with one of the airline officials in the bag), the foolhardiness of leaving my stuff in the taxi dawned on me. To leave the box, catch the flight and have the cabbie send it to me via some transport company? Smiling a ‘no’ to myself, I dashed out of Departures in search of the taxi.

10.03.42. Box in hand, breathless, dignity tucked in my pocket by now, I approached the security clearance area. The queue was as long as a stretch limousine! Of course they had done the ‘final boarding call’ announcement like 20 times by then. I walked to the security guy and told him the final boarding call for my flight had been made and I needed to go board. Seeing my desperation and therefore exalting his office, he started the ‘why are you just coming’ lecture but I could tell he was sold. By the way, this is an unreserved apology for jumping the queue; I normally do not do that.

10.07. The lady at the end of the luggage scanner said she wanted to search my box, that she saw some liquids in it. ‘What the hell’, I said to myself. Guess what I said to her before walking running past? Ask nicely and I’ll tell you!

10.09. Yours truly was running on the tarmac, inwardly thanking God I was an athlete in High School; I would have collapsed walai! The second part of me was thanking God that the door of the plane was still open…

10.10. My ‘majesty’ was seated, and the plane started taxiing. Phew!

I didn’t miss the flight, and that’s the closest I’ve come to missing a flight (before and after then). Of course I’ll never try that with an international flight, except the airline is owned by my father or husband!

Ok, so what brought this story? I was actually going to tell the way I get my tasks done but then I remembered this story (like I can ever forget it), and thought to share. I’ll do that one in a bit.  Lesson learnt? Don’t cut stuff too close FGS!

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ONE YEAR AFTER

Wow! I can’t believe it’s the end of the year already! Feels like yesterday when I rang Nike Coker to tell her I didn’t think I could do this Masters, and she said that as soon as I settled in, the year would run very quickly. Was she right or what? Cos today marks a year of my stay in England, and yes, I’m done with studying!

On the way out (don't remember where)

I’m grateful to a lot of people, who have been there for me this past year; who have gone out of their way to comfort, encourage, tickle, uphold, and ensure that my stay here felt a little more like what I’ve been used to.

I won’t forget today exactly one year ago now, it was drizzling in a very annoying and depressing way. After a pleasant breakfast, my guardian and I headed to Car phone Warehouse where I exchanged £450 for a 9700 (smile if you live in jand), and then she dropped me at the train station to catch something to Birmingham.

Got to Brum about 1pm, it was still raining, and I couldn’t understand why it looked like it was pm; thought they said winter would start in October? My dear friend Andy Madaki had called me a cab from New Street Station; it just didn’t occur to us (especially me) that there were many entrances and exits. Cabbie was at one end calling me, and I was at a different exit, trying not to panic. We didn’t find each other sha so I caught a cab from the station (at twice the cost) and we headed to uni.

I had called the accommodation office before I left London so they were expecting me, only problem was the cabbie and I couldn’t find their office. After an extra 10 minutes of countless U-turns and false starts, he dropped me, graciously didn’t charge any extra, and left. Don’t forget it was raining, I had two suitcases (left a third one in London), and it was my first time in Birmingham.

I finally found the office, got my key, and then trudged to what would be my lodgings for the next year. Fortunately we’d passed the place and because I already knew the house name, it was easy to find. I got there in three minutes. What did I do next? I pushed my boxes to a side of the room, made my bed, climbed into it, and cried myself to sleep. The evening and the morning, the first day.

Taken two days ago, I love it and thought to share!

I’ve come a long way from that dreary day, various highs and lows, exciting and not too exciting days. I just thought I’d mention a couple of things that one year after, I’m grateful for:

• My church! The Redeemed Christian Church of God, Covenant Restoration Assembly, Perry Barr gives life to the ‘home away from home’ saying. I am particularly indebted to my pastor’s wife, Pastor Mrs Obileye for calling to check on all of us students in the church, scolding, caring, and pushing us to do and be better. God bless you ma!
• I’m also grateful for my class, and my colleagues. Grateful that somehow, with a Nigerian, an Egyptian, a German, two Britons, one Irish, one Chinese, an Indian, and an Iranian and American at some point, we all managed each other pretty well! It was wonderful meeting all of you, and exchanging knowledge and our diverse experiences. Big thank you to Dave Harte (our award leader) for handling what can rightly be referred to  a mini United Nations assembly!
• Then, I’m thankful for my friends, extremely grateful for them. To Nike, my bestie Miss Mangut, Tilly, Alkayy, Big Fairy, thank you for helping me not miss Abuja too much! You guys are stronger pillars than you know! To my buddies on various social platforms (especially Twitter), what would I have done without you guys?
• To Wumi, Simi, my flatmate Mariam, and the rest of the ‘crew’ here in Birmingham, mwah! I still don’t know what I’m going to do when Wumi and Simi leave but it is well! You guys are real, the realest people I’ve met in a while!
• This is the part where I thank my guardian for being the best! She really is, and her wonderful family have made my stay a lot warmer! Thanks for a beautiful Christmas last year by the way, I won’t ever forget that!
• To the finest parents in the entire world, Pastor and Pastor Mrs Chuka Agwuegbo, and my one in a million brothers and sister, Ifeanyi, Nnamdi, and Adaora, I love you guys to the moon and back, thank you! To the one and only Aunty Pat, thank you!

Thank you Father for the grace you’ve given which is always available to me. I will never comprehend the depth of your love for me, your faithfulness even when I am unfaithful, and your unfailing mercies. This one’s for you Lord!

To you reading this, thank you! It’s on to the next one!

 

One of them sober (but vain) moments

 

THE DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE FACTOR

This chronicle was inspired by a poem I heard like two weeks ago (and you will soon read – thank you Mimidoo)! Now, apart from the fact that the poem was beautifully written, it appealed to me because it’s something I’ve seen happen over and over and over again.

The poem talks about a lady in a relationship with some guy who is obviously cheating on her. Apparently he’s saying one thing but the pictures she has of him show that he’s doing the exact opposite. For example, he told her he would wear their ring forever but she had pictures of him with other ladies, and without the ring. He said he was working late but the picture with her said missionary was Kate’s favorite position (must have been some picture)! On and on and on, the perfect example of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Yup! Two faced evil people!!!

Of course there’s been a lot of talk about spouses cheating and all so I won’t say anything about that. Ever been there before? You have a friend, colleague, spouse who says one thing and does another? Who professes to love you but is just waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab you in the back?

Stories abound, Nollywood has over flogged it as a theme, and even folktales exist of the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde phenomenon. I’m sure that if I asked (and I won’t), you have stories of people who bit and blew your toes at the same time. Makes me remember a song the Fairy GodMother taught me a while ago, “smiling faces, sometimes they don’t tell the truth, smiling faces, tell lies and that’s the truth”.

Ok, two things I’ve never quite understood about the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde thing are:

1. Why the person does it (I mean, if you don’t like or cannot stand someone why don’t you just make it known and move on)?

2. Why the person on the receiving end stays (because most of time you finally can tell that your rat of a friend doesn’t like you…but you stay). Why? Do you stay because you hope it’ll get better? You even become overly nice because you think it might help. How pathetic.

Want my advice? You can never get used to poison. Truth is, the longer it stays, the more it hurts. And for you spreading pain……what goes around, will come around.

P:S – enjoy the poem by Mimidoo Achineku

PICTURE

They say a picture says or is worth a thousand words
Well I just want this one to shut up
It tells me so many things and memories I thought I knew
Things I felt were askew

You told me you were working late
This picture tells me missionary is the favorite position of Kate’s
You gave me the impression you were hanging with Jeff
The other tells me medium rare steak is how she likes it, i.e. Steph
A day I joked saying “take your ring off if you can” …you said NEVER and puffed
It seems it was a bluff
Because this picture shows you are a bachelor, your ring is off.

Why I spied on you, you ask
Simple!
I was up to the task
All the money and riches kept me company
It was only your love I needed ultimately

I keep painting this picture in my mind
I hope it will tell you just a few words
It will tell of a loving brother, husband and friend
It will show when and how your life began
It will tell how and when your life ends

Yes you thought right
I will kill you when I find you
Take a picture of that.

No comment.

 

*Originally published here: http://chroniclesofthefairygodsister.blogspot.com/2009/10/chronicles-of-fairy-godsister-dr-jekyll.htmlin October 2009, after I found out (more like told myself the truth) that I had some really useless friends. *sigh*

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