Posts Tagged ‘ABBA’

Tessa’s on today, and her post is one that invokes memories for me, and I’m sure for everyone else who has ever lost someone. Her voice is one of thanksgiving though, and it is a charge to us that even on the days when we just want to curl up in a ball and moan, we can (and should be) thankful. Harder than it sounds I know, but doable.

I am writing the 30 days of gratitude challenge and even though I don’t feel perfect inside me, I realise that I don’t have to feel perfect to give thanks.

Why don’t I feel perfect?

I am still getting used to the fact that my dad is gone.

My daddy died on the 1st of October in the early hours of the morning.

I didn’t think I would cry but I did and I grieve but in spite of that I’m grateful for his life and that he got his chance to make his peace with God.

Life without God is not a walk in the park. I’m writing on my way to church. I’m thankful to God that he got a glimpse of God even if he didn’t get to walk closely with God.

I am thankful for my family. For love, for life, for God’s grace and favour. I’m thankful for the victories that we have gotten and more to come.

I’m thankful of all things for the relationship I have with God, even though I’ve not been talking much to Him, just listening. I’ve not gotten my bearings yet.

In spite of my silence, God is still good, I keep seeing His hand around me, even in things I didn’t pray about. I am kind of low on compassion these days cause I am looking out for yours truly.

I am thankful for the new year and this one. It would be interesting to see how we cope without our dad and who he was to us. I am confident though that God is not going anywhere, he remains in the midst of us, lifting, guiding, protecting, defending and leading us and most of all, I am confident he has good thoughts for us.

Nothing prepared me for this but I believe it’s the right time. It happened at the time that God allowed. I’m stretched on all sides trying to be everything for my family members and failing.

Now, from this moment, I surrender it all to God, He is the One who knows how to take care of us all, all the aspects of our lives, and most especially, our inner man, He knows how to soothe the hurts, how to work through the pain, pierce between soul and Spirit and bring peace and calm, he knows how to sort between friend and foe and bring helpers, Jonathan’s, sent by God.

He knows how to take off the pressure and lead beside the still waters, so even though I weep, I’m grateful for new things.

I trust God to make a way in the wilderness and bring streams in the deserts.

So in all the awesome things that have happened and in the passing of our father, the One God gave, I give thanks.

O Give thanks to the Lord, his mercies endureth forever.

First off, my most profound condolences on your dad…it is well with you. Receive strength and comfort from The One who gives and gives and gives. Plenty hugs, your family’s in my thoughts and prayers.

Second, I envy your relationship with God, seriously I do! And I trust Him for grace for myself to be able to lean on Him completely. 

No, this isn’t a ‘Dear President-elect letter’; trust me I am as exhausted with them as the next man. I am not exhausted with the trekking (and cycling, and swimming, etc.) though, young men and women traversing between states on in various ways in honor of their preferred leader, whether outgoing president Goodluck Jonathan or incoming Muhammadu Buhari. I worry about them, exposing themselves to the elements, the very real security implications of walking our highways, the health implications ( I don’t want to bet but I would be very surprised if any of the trekkers did any form of practice – in the way athletes do – before pounding the pavement). I wonder about hygiene (showers, potty time), I wonder about food and drink and their safety/security (I mentioned this again on purpose), but no, I’m not exhausted with it. I salute their courage in fact.

This is a ‘Dear Nigerians’ letter; one that we should all write ourselves, and our parents, and our children, and our friends and our enemies. It’s a letter to the man selling beef in the market, a letter to the female executive, and a letter to the chairman of a conglomerate.

The resounding rhetoric is we (or the people who voted/rigged for either party) used the ballot to demand better than what we’ve got currently, to unseat an incumbent; that all will be well because we have a new president whose unique selling point is an abhorrence for corruption. He will make everything ok. Perfect. People are starting to warn others that “Buhari is coming, better behave”, and the words ‘Buhari’ and ‘change’ are literally interchangeable. Sweet.

Who will this Messiah be working with however? The local government chairman who caters to his community in ABC state from the Federal Capital Territory, the man in charge of electricity for a region who owns controlling shares in a generator company; the woman who redirects money meant for youth corps members to her private account, the one who colludes with the bank to withhold teachers salaries for months on end so there is interest to share.

Our Mr. Incorruptible will be working alongside young people who think that a few important names in their phones or cheesy photos with high-profile people make them invincible, with people who think full spellings of the simplest words are too much work. He will work with law enforcement who are so gifted they can tell which drivers will give them ‘something for the weekend’ from a mile off, with religious leaders whose words of prophecy are dictated/inspired by the gift offered, with Nigerians who have been so deprived everyone sets out every morning determined to get one better over the next man.

Guess what? In four years we will be back here. In this place of frustration, of pain, hunger, of extreme queues for fuel and no electricity (at the time of writing this there hasn’t been power in my area for SIX days), of dwindling oil prices that determine the mood of our economy because fancy words and presentations and half term/end of year reports aside, we’re living off sod else.

We will be even more broken, and disappointed, and braying for this Messiah’s head, when we should be tightening the noose around ours for not being the citizens we elected in our President. We would be broken because the ‘office of the citizen’ we created/became aware of was more for the optics than an actual reorientation of our minds and consequently, our actions.re

This word ‘change’?

Starts from you and I. As we begin this journey today as a country to where we want/dream/hope to be, it has to start, and end with us.

Aristotle in discussing the three types of people who exist said “the common run of people betray utter slavishness in their preference for a life suitable to cattle…” To put that very simply, if we do not elevate our existence and actions from pleasing self alone to honor derivative from the happiness/growth/development of others, Nigeria will fail. Buhari will try, but he will fail.

Final word? Congratulations, fellow citizens of Nigeria on our election into the house of change. Let’s be guided accordingly, and God bless Nigeria.

Good morning! I slept very well thank you, woke up feeling very rested. There’s something about the way I’ve slept in the last couple days that’s made me sleep a bit better. Maybe go to Lagos a bit more often perhaps?

Woke up, caught the end of a cartoon while I got ready, and then I went for breakfast. Again, thoroughly disappointed. This time though, I complained. Didn’t just mean to whinge (and I wasn’t the only one who complained), but I’m now taking medication to clear this week-old flu and for the amount of mental exertion I see in the offing, the least I expect is a decent breakfast! Besides, I’m a growing child…lol…

Thankful to our Care Manager (that’s what I called Ghida in my head) who’d gone over and beyond with the provisions she’d laid out in our kitchenette. Cereal, chocolate, biscuits, fruits, unending supplies of tea and coffee, she even brought medication (we’ll get to that bit soon). I ended up having Special K every morning till we left – thank you Ghida!!!

Breakfast over, we piled into the conference room, our work space for the next few days, and Barbara introduced officially what a Book Sprint was, and all of that information is here. She told us how ours would work (it’s a secret, wait for the book), and then we went round the room with short introductions. Here’s a bit about everyone, all eight of us!

Rafeeat Aliyu () – Blogger, writer of fiction and non-fiction, history nerd. http://www.eccentricyoruba.wordpress.com

Elnathan John () – A full-time writer. http://www.elnathanjohn.blogspot.com

Yas Niger () – Blogger, writer (of a self-published book). http://www.yasniger.wordpress.com

Pearl Osibu () – Blogger, writer, designer. http://www.pearlosibu.wordpress.com

Chioma Agwuegbo () – Blogger, writer, aunty to the cutest baby on earth. http://www.chiomachuka.com

Kalu Aja () – Financial planner and coach. http://www.kalus20pounds.blogspot.com

Azeenarh Mohammed () – Noisemaker, privacy enthusiast, digital security trainer. http://www.azeenarh.wordpress.com

Fola Lawal ( ) – Publisher. http://www.shecrownlita.com

And then our facilitators!

Barbara Ruhling () – Book Sprint facilitator, filmmaker. http://www.booksprints.net

Simone Poutnik ()- Multi-stakeholders collaboration facilitator. http://www.natural-innovation.net

Yep, that’s us!

Then we talked a lot about our book what we wanted it to be – fiction or not, narrated or not, dialogue or full on prose, on and on and on.

I really liked the exercises (I must say), even though the next event saddened me. We wrote out on post-its all the issues we wanted to see represented in our book, and then we grouped them under broader headings like religion, state structure, corruption, etc. That exercise was almost emotional for me cos it was like unpacking a bag full of bad memories, hanging them out, and just reliving them again.

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And this was just one sheet of the things we listed!!

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Figuring out what issue would work under what was a task and half!

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Stop and think…

What was interesting though, was seeing that all our issues are so interwoven! So, here’s a random example – if we fixed the judiciary, stiffer sentences for crimes would ensure a deterrent, and the society would be a tad safer/easier to live and do business in. However, the executive and legislative have to ‘put down self’ to empower the judiciary. Easy right? But when you consider that half the people who should be in jail for one crime or the other are in the E and L, it becomes a bit more tricky. Even trickier is the mindset of the ‘common man’ who lambasts the E, L, and J but sees nothing wrong in bribing his way out of stuff. Do you expect integrity from that kind of person when/if they get into a position of power? If you are dishonest with a pound, you will be dishonest with a thousand pounds. Round and round this mulberry bush, ladies and gentlemen. Sigh.

It was about evening this time (notice I didn’t dignify lunch with a mention), and people were wired! All that talk and writing! So we all took a walk, laughed all the way – to the politician amongst us paying for the fruits we wanted, to seeing a private house with traffic lights (Nigerians are the best walai) – we laughed all the day! Of course I took a picture. What!!??!!

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Ah ha! Before I forget, our lodgings are around the house of the Inspector General of Police. Guess what? We weren’t allowed to walk on his side of the road (where his home is). “For security reasons”, his people said. Was hilarious, the banter we had with the mobile policemen but when you think of it, how much sadder can we get?

I would be embarrassed to live there to be honest – tank parked outside, mortar barriers, floodlights, and mobile policemen perpetually at the ready. Why? Whatever happened to protect and serve? Are they protecting the Nigerian people like this? Why is it normal for one person to be guarded this way, when our brothers and sisters are sitting ducks for Boko Haram in the North East?

Bleh.

Dinner was manageable, nothing I remember. We did a bit more writing, and day one was officially over! Four days to go!