Y’all have seen Malcolm X, right? Not to worry, this isn’t about racial inequality and such. Thing is, I’m only just seeing the movie Malcolm X. That 1992 film starring Denzel Washington, Angela Bassett, and directed by Spike Lee. That one.
I had to pause the movie to type this. You see, I’m at the party or club, or whatever this is scene where everyone is going crazy as they dance. If you haven’t seen it yet then picture a typical black American church here. Crazy! And then some; The women are swinging over the men, undergarments and all in the open, men are jumping on women, slides, cartwheels, faces were in contact with crotches, and some holy ghost type frenzy on display. All in the name of dance. Did they really dance like that? I mean the the folks of those times.
I was watching and all I could say, on many occasions, was “Whatda?!”

I have seen videos of this type of dance. But those were not as crazy.


That’s not superman and Dart Vader. Those black people in America were crazier than the black people in black Africa. I know that for certain. Heck, I am a black person in Africa.

Drake is a rapper?

That’s my first puzzle of 2017.
A whole lot of crazy stuff has happened since I was away but this Drake guy…

So I was listening to the radio… Oh by the way, i work at a radio station too. Anyway, it was a countdown and the hip-hop artist, Drake was on.

I’m still wondering how he’s a hip-hop artist.

Let’s move on.
So his hit track ‘One Dance‘ was on. I learnt it’s the best selling song of 2016.

Im also wondering how that is.

OK, let’s move on.
Wait, the song isn’t even danceable. He was singing on a dance beat, then going off beat, totally ruining the rhythm I was building up at instances. And that’s the best song of last year?

A friend of mine said to me how he thought mostly stupid songs made it to the Grammys. That’s not related to this at all. Or is it?

I would love to say a lot about how Drake is making me confused but Willie Nelson is on, so, on the road again.

Happy New Year! I’ve missed you guys so!

Kids should be kids!

In recent time I have been taken aback by the sheer number of kids who are dressed up in adult fashion and proudly displayed on social media. I tried as much to ignore them until I and the missus talked about some new sandals for our little man. Then she sent me this.


I probably was supposed to concentrate on the sandals but I couldn’t help but affirm that he wasn’t a midget posing as a little boy. What in Adele’s rosy cheeks is this?! Has he been working out too?

This is so wrong!

I was just thinking back when kids used to look like kids. You know, no tight fitting skirts or shorts, we had plastic sun glasses, flowery or net hats, lollipop or icecream in one hand. Today it’s four year old Rihanna and Justin Bieber lookalikes. What’s that all about?
Remember that we only wore a tux or suit at important occasions or church?

How about these kids be kids? How about that?

Normal? No!

If I had a dollar everytime somebody says that I am not normal…

Somebody who thinks that hanging by the side of a moving vehicle while screaming locations and instructions is normal. Who thinks buying and selling on the pavement or even on the road itself is normal. That bribery is normal. That thanking a supreme being for your life and the demise of another is normal. Somebody who loves to dish out but refuses to accept criticism. Somebody who thinks another human being burned to death for stealing/armed robbery/witchcraft is normal. That standing behind a vehicle bellowing exhaust fumes is normal. Somebody who feels that oppressing the people around them and depriving them essentials is normal. Somebody who sees potential enemies everywhere that they must pray against.

No sir, I am very normal. Not just your kind of normal.

Zombie me, Zombie you.

I bet the Zombie brings Hollywood to mind. Well that’s on the extreme part. I’m talking on a normal level. Have you given a thought to how much of your activities you actually pay attention to? Do you realize that a lot of the things we do on a daily basis are actually carried out on autopilot? You don’t realize you’ve done it till after:

Ever been driving a car and realized you haven’t actually been aware were you were the last few minutes?

Ever finished a bowl of cereal only to ask yourself when you started?

You could explain it simply as Muscle memory. Those memories of frequently enacted tasks for your muscles all stored up in your brain. It really can help you become very good at something through repetition. Your muscles just take over. Like you’re a zombie.


People like life, but they don’t  know how to live. They only know how to breathe.
There’s no ‘leave and let live’.

Little wonder people die. People hate the truth and crave the lie. People ignore the logs in their eye.

People want money, people want fame, people always seek for someone else to blame.

People hate offices. No, people love offices, It’s the job that embarrasses. All cos of a series of easier choices.

People hate beggars but love takers. They are puppets in the  hands of lawmakers.

keep the earth!
kill the earth!
Has been the argument since birth.

The goal is always to be well-off financially; automatically or eventually. People. People like life, but they don’t really.

Weird day

I had a very interesting day today. So much so that I had to write about it. And you know I haven’t been active in a while. I must apologize for that, you see there’s been a lot that life’s been throwing up at me.

Today though, life was…interesting.

It started with some lady screaming my name through the window. No, it’s not what you think, I didn’t get anyone pregnant. This lady was on her way and wanted me to tag along. Yeah. I was still asleep at the time, 8:13am. I had a busy night. No, it’s not what you think, I wasn’t getting anyone pregnant. Just work.

So she screamed my name again and again that I had to groan out “Jesus Christ” not because I had any respect for the name but cos it was an exclamation. An appropriate one for a Sunday. I lazily moved, still sleepy, on to the window:

“yeah, morning”.

“morning, I’m going to church, should I wait for you?”

“I’ll catch up. Be there around nine”

“No, let me just wait”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there. I promise.”

So, reluctantly she left.

Days ago this lady grew interest in me, I’m guessing the spiritual me, approached me and invited yours truly to her church. “Just for two hours” she said. I agreed simply cos it was an opportunity to document the happenings in church. A lot of weirdness happens there.
At 9:45am I was in church hoping that service would end at 10am. But it’s church, right? Anyway, the ushers put me right between two ladies. I don’t know if this was intentional. Maybe it was a Christian way of saying “pick one hoe and go with the flow”. The one on the right was light skinned, short and had too much damn makeup. The one on the left was surprisingly opposite. She was tall, dark skinned, very little makeup and was quite friendly. It was her who touched my knee to say to me whatever the pastor asked his congregation to tell their neighbour. With that singular act she must’ve sent a signal to the lady to my right that she got this one. “This one” being me. So there I was smack in the middle of two ladies who didn’t even bother to hide the fact they were probably not single but searching. One was fascinated by my hair, the other seemed to like my shoes. And I became some sort of model for a brief period.

It was going to be too easy so I decided to ignore them both.

The next forty minutes after service should have been over was characterized by elbows touching, quick glances, seat adjustments, standing to hail the pastor, and the very creative phone gallery display that the one on the right put forth. She angled her mobile phone such that I could have a good view of her many photos in different attires, poses, and bedrooms. Yes, looked. What’s a brother to do?
Pastor instructed, at some point, that we shook hands with three people and bless them, or something. And at that moment I seemed to have become more than one human being as two people shook my hands more than once. Service ended, finally, with dancing and this was well used by all the women in the church to show their new clothes and hair, and …curves.

So I left the church, not in a hurry though, there was plenty to stare at. As I made my way off the grounds and was asking myself where the lady who invited me was and how she’d believe I actually did honour her invitation, she called out to me. More like screamed my name again. Glad that I did come, she hugged me. I’ve got makeup on my right cheek to show for it. Makeup I didn’t know was there for the three hours before I took a look at the mirror.

The irony of mechanics

I’ve often wondered why the shops of electronics engineers are packed full of dead televisions and radios and fans, and CD players. Same way a mechanic’s garage is full of dead cars and parts.

You’d think people won’t take their stuff there for repairs as usually they just add to the other’s collection.
How else did they amass so much trash? They didn’t pick ’em from off the street!

Shouldn’t a good mechanic be characterized by an empty workshop or garage?  Shouldn’t all that you see be his tools? Wouldn’t that show how good he is at his job? Why then is it that a spot full of long dead air-conditioners show an air conditioning repair shop? Why does a pile of long dead TV sets signify a TV repair man’s workshop? It’s funny how we then listen to and accept his promise to have it fixed in “a couple of days to few weeks”… Like that wasn’t how the other pile appeared.

Weddings things

I just saw a video of a wedding. Not your typical wedding. An African wedding. Not your typical African wedding. This one had the groom, bride, bridesmaids, groomsmen all dancing like it was Soul Train. It was a dance video shot during a wedding.


Weird. Just when I thought weddings had no other way of getting profoundly elaborate (usually to generate or waste money) they come up with choreographed dance sessions. Three songs were played in this obviously well rehearsed dance and if not for the wedding cake and   people in the background dressed in a this is a wedding attire kind of way i was ready to believe it was indeed a staged something.

People who see don’t see much

People throng malls to admire the beautiful architecture but on their way there ignore the beautiful works of nature. See how people flood Dubai to chechout a huge aquarium? Many of these people are from coastal cities.
A lot of people don’t notice the many shades of green a Mango tree has in rainy season. Nobody notices the Hibiscus, or the little flowers on the Paw-Paw tree. Or the blueish-green of that fly before they swipe it off of their fruit.
The people who see don’t see much.
The blue in the sky that subtly fades here and there. The combination of colours from everywhere.
I was born and bred in Festac town. 24-Road is flanked on each side by these stretched out trees of tiny green leaves with blood-red flowers. I don’t know if they’re still there but back then I seemed to be the only one who noticed them. Plus the neck problem I developed from staring up at the stars too much. Nature is that captivating. But I guess many who see don’t see much.
In Ilorin, Tanke, Oke-Odo, before it lost its natural beauty, i would go for a walk in the bush and take pictures of grasshoppers, flowers, leaves and even the winding footpath. They all were beautiful. To me; to my neighbours I was hiding something in the bushes. That simply explained my regular visits. Every six-o-five in the evenings I would step out to watch the sunset that lasted till around six forty-something. I remember, this one time, a neighbour stepped out the yard, saw me staring at the sunset and she asked me what I was looking at. Apparently an orange sun spilling its colour on the sides of grey clouds was not impressive enough. The people who see don’t see much.

During Geological field trips I took more photos of the wild than the rock samples we went in search of. As a result, i was often at the back of the line. I usually then wondered how someone would just walk past a huge tree covered with ferns or a stream with pebbles in it and not say out loud “that is beautiful!”. How is it possible to walk for hours through a forest and see nothing worthy of note? How come the people who see don’t see much?

It would be too bad if a few seconds to dying one realises they haven’t seen much.