28.7.10

till death do us part?

“Change is constant; the only constant thing in life is change”. No matter how its put, the point is that nothing ever remains the same. A fetus trying to adapt to the body of its mother is soon pushed out and becomes and infant in a new environment that needs to be adapted to. The infant becomes a toddler learning how to be human, grows into a teenager learning to understand life and then an adult (well, you never really understand life). The water of the sea is constantly moving, the leaves on trees also change season after season, the sands are constantly moved and even the air we breathe is not the same. It is also a proven fact that our body changes overnight as we sleep because the cells breakdown and rebuild every day.
So, in this constant world of change, isn’t it a wonder how we still hold on to love? Every body is in search for that one love that will last forever. That one love which would make you want to spend the rest of your life with one person. I wonder, however, how it is that no one stops to think that the love they so earnestly search for would one day change like everything else in life. Think about it; the recipient of this love would one day grow old and even before then, the character changes, the giver of this same love also changes, the environment in which this love is nurtured changes with season, time and social circumstances. So who is to say that the love itself will be the same?
Which brings me to the bug of all bugs? Does true love change? Now, some might say the love of God does not change… well, I say that is God! Pure and simple. What about the love of our parents? Do they stop loving us? Do we stop loving them? Maybe not. But aren’t there sometimes when your mother just annoys you so much, you almost hate her and when your father disappoints you, you wish you belonged to someone else? And are there not times when our parents expect so much from us and when we fail to deliver, their love diminishes?
Or does it?
Do the brief feelings of admonishment and disapproval reduce or change our love in any way?
The natural answer would be NO. nobody wants to admit that there are times when the love between parent and child reduces or changes.
Why then doesn’t this principle apply to relationships? Why do we find people falling in and out of love? how is it that a man who once meant the world to you is now a merely a name on your contact list? Or that a day which required you to plan months ahead in buying gifts suddenly becomes the day you send a simple text at 12pm saying “happy birthday”? and how is it that even amongst all the break ups, you find the one special couple who remain important to themselves to the end? Does this mean that love doesn’t change and perhaps it’s the people in love that change? Yes? No!
If love doesn’t change, does it mean that people immediately fall in love the moment they meet? Love occurs in stages; from attraction, to infatuation, to bonding and eventually to love. It then means that love also changes. Another point to show that love changes is the saying “there is a thin line between love and hate.”
The irony, however, is that love is the one thing that keeps us all together. We are in a constant state of change. Nothing is permanent except real love, deep love that transcends time and place. Even in its change, love still remains the only constant which serves as the rope we cast to each other to keep from drowning in the sea of turmoil otherwise known as life.
So the answer to these questions is one of two things: love doesn’t change ( which I do not agree with) or 2 being that love, like every other thing, changes but has a constant constituent/form which it keeps despite the change. Sort of like our bodies, the ocean, the atmosphere and the leaves on the trees. Even after change, these things look the same to the naked eye.

16.6.10

Soar or Plummet?

Have you ever heard of how the female eagle selects a mate for herself? She picks a twig, flies very high in the air and drops it. The male eagles would then scramble to get the twig and bring it to her. Take a minute to think about it, like 6 male eagles scrambling high in the air to pick a little twig that can break under the slightest pressure. The peculiar aspect of this “mate test” is that she does this same thing over and over again. How does she finally pick? The first male to get a twig three times!
Think about it, each male can get a twig at every time right? But she is smart enough to realize that, so she continues with the test till she gets the perfect one. The one who is strong enough, patient enough and smart enough!!!
If only humans would build up on some of their more useful animal instincts. Every animal has a form of mating ritual with which to pick their mates. And these rituals result in the best mate and sometimes only mate for each animal. Why then is it that human beings, the highest of these animals seem to have lost their way. An eagle can find a perfect mate in one day but humans take years and a lot of test runs to get a mate, most times not even the perfect one is gotten.
How is it that an eagle has more class, sense and dignity than most women? Let’s critically analyze the situation. A man comes to a woman, throws a few recharge cards, BIS activation, perfumes around, says some things about how he has never liked a woman as much, used to be a player but u don make him fall in love and the woman IS “in love”. Without any further ado, she ordains him as her plus one. God forbid she finds out that he is not good enough, its on to the next one. She continues to amass men, in the process loosing her dignity.
The eagle (what is a female eagle called by the way?) on the other hand, recognizes the VERY important things; all males can afford to do the same thing. Any other guy would say the same words; buy the same things just to get what he wants. So instead of falling like our girls would, the female eagle (eye lasan lasan!) continues with the tests. Mind you, she is not “just” fronting o! She is taking her time to pick out the strongest, whose beak would not get broken which in our case is maybe say the richest whose bank account will not run on empty.
Another BOLD feature in this ritual is patience. The female is very patient. She is in no hurry to pick a boyfriend. She goes through the stress of picking a good enough twig, strong enough to bear the pressure. She would then fly high, very high only to drop that twig. Do you know how much time and energy she puts into this ritual? But women now just want a boyfriend either due to society push or peer pressure.
Because she has put in so much energy, she deserves a patient male as well. In the whole process of trying to get the twig, some males would have left out of anger, low attention span, weariness, frustration or attraction to another female. Whereas we immediately open up our hearts, mouths, tops and even legs to the man who gives the most attention or is simply the finest, the eagle takes her time and separates the wheat from the chaff in a manner of speaking.
Ever noticed how if you post a guy for more than a month sometimes even shorter, his calls reduce till they eventually stop?
Finally, you have got to give the eagle props for her confidence. I mean the “chick” has a sense of worth. First, she does not perform any ritual until she is absolutely ready to mate. No peer pressure or fear that there would be no man there when she is ready. She is sure of nothing less than three men fighting for her when she is ready. For heaven’s sake, the girl knows she is hot enough for them to fight over and she won’t settle for any thing less than fighting to the soaring end. Plus she makes sure she gets her mate in JUST 1 day.
I am not giving any advice here, am merely comparing notes. It’s your choice… be the eagle or be the woman.
b.t.w a female eagle is called a hen-eagle!

7.6.10

UNSATISFIED SEARCH

What is love? Why do people go from one person to another in search of a supposed soul mate or true love? Does it really exist? That true love we all desperately search for? Why can’t you just find one good person and stay with that person for the rest of your life. And if the thought of being with one person for the rest of your life is simply too daunting, then maybe open relationships and marriages should be the order of the day.

Sometimes, I think our ancient fathers and mothers got it right? The whole idea of picking a spouse for their child therefore avoiding unnecessary heartbreak and sleeping around doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

I mean if my parents had picked out a husband for me and married me to him the moment I turned 18, I wouldn’t have had to meet people just to leave them. I would have killed two birds with one stone, avoid heartbreak and kept my innocence.

But the whole idea of letting us freely choose whom we want to be with has given us the idea that we have to pick the best and perfect hence opening up discontent whereby, good men are not good enough. And the notion of love or true love has eternally doomed us to an unnecessary search for what may just not exist. In the process of this fatal search, we loose our innocence and people who meant the world to us.

In the search for a nonexistent notion, we become old maidens and the irony of it all is we eventually settle for less. That’s how come you find a 40 year old woman finally settling to marry a man who is not even as good as her first boyfriend.

My question then is, if (in most cases) you eventually have to settle for someone who is not even half as good much less close to perfect and whom you are not even attracted to not to talk of being in love with, why then do we deceive ourselves in the beginning by searching for a nonexistent concept.

I think every body is good enough for anybody; all that matters is the determination and will to want to keep the relationship. So, if you find a good man or woman, make extra effort to keep that person. And if you find that you have lost that one good person, well accept your fate and pray that you find someone else half as good. And if you find someone better, thank your God.

10.5.10

1st service to my country

So its my first day at work at the Government House, Lafia, Parastatals Department (whatever that means). The time is 11:11 am, a whole 2 hours after my time of resumption and you would not believe what I have been doing. If you guessed, filing papers or typing out documents, darlings, you guessed wrong. I had the fore-sense to bring along my laptop so I have been watching a film I just got. Right now, my boss- the permanent secretary just walked in so I have to form busy, and the best way to do that is to fill my blog.

Excuse me a minute…

Okay, so I’ m back. Its 11:45. My boss called me in for a debriefing and also to give me my first assignment. Apparently, I am going to be needed in writing a lot of things here too. My department is in charge of all the coordinations for the government house. So my perm sec (permanent secretary) wants me to draft a letter to “acknowledge the receipt of some items” accordingly.

11:58, finally I am done with the letter. You would be surprised how hard it is to say a simple thank you in an official place. But the best part is that I got to sign my name on behalf of my boss. I know it seems like nothing,s yeah but I get to have my signature in a file in the government house for the rest of time.

So, now its 12:03 and my boss has gone out (for some kind of inauguration), so I guess am back to film and a bit of chatting.

Did I mention how they love corpers in this state? And how I am beyooooond bored in my surprisingly very comfortable house as there is never light and my housemates are Hausa. Even the Yoruba one understands Hausa. (though she is always gisting me about her past loves; Hausa men are apparently into planning marriage with other people while dating you.)

Anyhoos, toodles.

1.4.10

TESTIMONY TIME

Hey y’all, guess who is back? I have missed writing so much. It feels so good to type again. I could see the joy from the screen of my laptop…lol. The wallpaper had a welcoming smile that warmed my heart (even though it was my picture). The sound from my laptop was music to my ears and even the welcome seemed like it came from the depth of the heart of the computer (you get my drift). I had barely unpacked when I put on my laptop, even my father had to shout at me.
Now I’m not writing any wise notes…nope, I am only thanking God for the miraculous miracle that he did for me on the 31st of March, 2010. Never in my life would I have thought that such a thing would happen to me. My life became a Hollywood movie over night.
It all started on the day we left camp and I got my posting letter to Lafia, the state capital, which was 2 hrs away from keffi where the camp was based. By the time I got to lafia, it was too late for me to get anything done concerning my clearance so I had to lodge in an hotel for the night. Hoping that by the next day I would be done on time to catch my flight from Abuja to lagos by 8:30pm.
As God would have it, the stupidest, most stupid, most stupidest man was in charge of corpers at my place of posting. He did not give acceptance letter till 5pm and to get to Abuja from Lafia would take me about 3 hours and another hour to get to the airport. Hmmm… my dear friends, I risked it o. I got into a bus to Abuja at exactly 6:00p.m. The bus didn’t move till 6:30pm.
First, that day I prayed for divine favour and that was what I got all through. I met a fellow corper in the bus who asked the driver how long it will take and the man promised to get to Abuja before 8:30. my mistake, however, was that I needed to get to the airport not just Abuja before that time. the driver sped like crazy. I thought I had seen crazy drivers. ( femi taiwo and babalola don’t hold a candle to this guy). I covered a 2 and a half hour journey in exactly 2 hours with stops on the way o!
At exactly 8:30, I got to Maraba. Obviously I had missed my flight, right? My God delayed the flight! Halleluyah! My friend, funmi who was supposed to have left for 8pm was still calling me to find out where I was. She was the one who told me the flight was delayed. So while she was helping me stall at the airport, I was trying to find my way there.
The corper and another good Samaritan who was going towards the airport followed me in a cab from maraba to nyanya(hope I got the spelling). At Nyanya, the corper (is this spelling right cos my computer keeps checking it), dropped off, got my number so he could keep in touch and find out if I made it and I moved on to Area 1 with the other man whose name I do not know. If not for the man I would have been duped of 3,500 that the stupid cab man asked for. Any how I got a cab for 1,500 and was told it would take me 30 mins to an hour to get to the airport because of Lupe/Nupe traffic.
By 9:30pm, we got to Lupe/Nupe and there was no traffic at all. Isn’t my God great? Even the cab guy was surprised. The good Samaritan got down at a place called Lugbe, I think. He got my number too. The cab man sped as much as he could and within 15 minutes I was at the airport. Funmi had already told me not to bother because they were boarding already as the flight was for 9:45pm. I got to the airport at 9:55. now this is where the major miracle began.
I first had to beg the attendant to let me into the terminal. That took about 3 minutes, it took me about 2 minutes to get to the runway. But God allowed me get there just in time to see the plane. I called for them not to move the stairs yet, the captain had seen me and was waving for me to come but one stupid foolish wicked man that God used stopped me because I didn’t have a boarding pass. (their systems were down). My brothers and sisters that was how I watched the plane take-off right in my very before. I was crying like a baby. My already bulgy eyes were popping out.
The other staff members came to beg me and told me that the hardened wicked man was the manager and he should have at least allowed me since I was in my corper uniform. Then one angel of God remembered that another plane was leaving at that minute to Lagos but it was a private plane. I told him that I did not mind and I would beg.
To cut the long story short, when I got to the private plane, the captain was already shutting the door, I begged them and the man in the plane asked me to go in.
My brethren in the Lord, that was how I came back to Lagos in a private jet with the GMD of Oando at exactly 11pm. No be lie and no be joke.
PRAISE THE LORD!!!

Special thanks to Femi Taiwo, Funmi Olubanwo, Yemi Adedokun, Muyiwa and to the Samaritans whose names I do not know. I love you all for being there for me.

And to my mother, your worries over me will not be in vain o.

Now for my next miracle in Nasarawa. I know He has a plan for me.

www.milzonome.blogspot.com

1.3.10

And The Stress begins...

So, remember how sometime back, I told you I didn’t know what to do with my life. Well, the story has changed as I got a job recently (and all on my own, no connection). Some weeks back, I was online checking a popular job hunting site and I applied for a couple of jobs. Well, on Monday “jejely” was I, on my own o when I got a text to come for an interview.
My first thought was that I was going for my NYSC in a few weeks (yes God did that too, June changed to March), so I did not see a reason to go for the interview. The only reason I ended up going was so I could have a taste of what the interview was about.
My very first interview, wow! Funny enough, I wasn’t nervous at all. Apart from the fact that I did not know what to wear, what to say or what to do, I was just dandy. Anyway, I got there right on time and had to wait an hour to be interviewed.
My interview was SWEET. I liked my interviewer, I felt confident and I was all smiles. Then my bubble got burst. There was no point giving me a job when I would leave soon. I wasn’t sad (honestly). I was just glad that my first interview ever was a breeze.
Then on my way out, I was asked to wait to get re-interviewed (to put it that way). This time I got to show some posts on my blog (did I mention it is a writing gig and some other things too, but that is for me not you). He loved it (okay maybe that is stretching it a bit- he liked it). Now I know my wonderful friends have supported me but for an employee to love my blog enough to want to pay me, that was my stamp of greatness (lol). I was asked to start work immediately. Yep! ( I didn’t get home until 9 pm- did I mention it is on the island). I was immediately put to write an article that was to be published the next day. My title- clubs! I mean I get paid to write about clubs, partying ( I know, right?). BUT I was to write about the problems of clubbing not the fun part. Sha sha, at the end of work day when my boss asked me how my first day was (yes, he is nice like that, although he seems like he can be annoyingly strict). I had no idea what to say to him,
Y? because it had not hit me that I was actually working.. it did, however hit me like a stiletto on the head when I had to wake up by 5:30 the next day.

But still all is well, IF it ends well.

Pls pray that it does o

p.s my boss is on fb (for now…lmao)

Folu, Munwa, we are 4geda now *wink*

Xoxo
Working girl!!!

www.milzonome.blogspot.com

19.2.10

Gidi Hustle

Yawn…, the young conductor rouses and checks his time… it is 5:45am. Gosh, are they late! What kind of life is this? He wakes his older colleague (driver) and tells him they are running late. The driver quickly rises and they both rush to the bathroom. S**t, Iya Risi and her children are already in the bathroom. The conductor rushes to the toilet while the driver goes to the wall, both to ease themselves. The driver shouts to Iya Risi in the bathroom to hurry up as she isn’t the only one there. “o wa wo mi jade” (come and pull me out now) says Iya Risi. The driver, getting really upset starts out to insult her when the conductor begs him to shut it and apologizes to Iya Risi while begging her to hurry. Fifteen minutes later, she comes out with her children murmuring. For lack of time, the driver and conductor go into the bathroom together.
Iya Risi takes her children in and orders the elder child to dress both herself and her siblings while she goes to wake her lazy husband working as a bricklayer in a house being built on their street. She begins to dress up while thinking of how she hoped the akara woman would sell early today so she could get some food for her children before they left for school. Thirty minutes and 50 naira akara later, she walks her children out of the house just as the driver and conductor drive their danfo bus out. She turns left towards her children’s school while the danfo bus goes right. The conductor watched her go but his mind was actually wasn’t with her for he was praying that he made enough profit today.
Some hours and about 20 rounds later, the conductor whose throat was sore from shouting the same thing over and over again (“mile 2-wharf” to and “osho! Oshod!! Oshodi!!!” fro) stopped a boy selling pure water. The boy, not having sold much all day rushed to the bus. He gave his conductor his change and ran back to the side of the road. He prayed that he would sell the bag he had on time so he could go and get another one. He thought about his ailing mother and his little sister whom he had to drop secondary school for so she could finish her primary education, looked up to heaven and prayed. At that very moment, a woman rushing to enter a bus hit him and almost knocked him over. The woman got into the bus first before she looked back at him to apologize. She tried bringing out her purse to pay the conductor but it was too difficult as the load she carried was too much and her wallet was too deep to find. She decided to leave it, thinking she would pay just before she got out of the bus. The conductor spoke to her rudely but she was too happy to be offended as she was carrying some goods she had been waiting for for so long. Now, she thought, I would be able to give this money to my husband to pay for the house rent this month.
At her bus-stop, just before she got down, a school girl in her uniform stepped on her in an attempt to get down before her. She shouted after the girl but the school girl was too much in a hurry to hear her. The young teenager was petrified at the punishment she was going to get from her mother. See, this young s.s.2 girl, due to peer pressure, was dating a guy much older than her and in his final year in the University. She had gone to pay him a visit after school and had lost track of time. What beating she was going to get from her mother today!!! She thought. Of which, she hadn’t seen her period this month and it’s already the 28th… At that point in time, an okada man who was obviously high on “igbo” and “paraga” breezed past her, the lady behind (dressed in a flashy manner) had her pants pulled down such that her butt crack along with half of her butt was out in the open.
The lady, however, hardly took any notice of it because she was very angry at her boyfriend whom she had just found with another woman in his house. She got down at her bust stop and crossed the road, all the while wondering if she was ever going to marry as most of her friends had been married. Lost in thought, she almost got hit by a Camry 2.4. The man in it seemed young but was married; however the woman beside him was not his wife. He looked to the damsel on his side (unaware that he had almost hit a woman) and thought of the fun he was going to have at the hotel he was going. The lady, on the other hand was thinking of the clothes she would buy for her friends party after she had collected the money for the night. When the car stopped in traffic, she looked outside the window at a handsome man in his Toyota Tundra driving alone. The man looked at her, she smiled; he smiled back and turned away. As soon as the traffic cleared, he drove off and all he could think about was how he would surprise his wife with the things he had bought for her in order to celebrate the contract he had just been awarded. Oh, he couldn’t wait!
He could smell the aroma of his favourite soup from the gate of his house. His wife was truly an amazing woman. He smiled as he saw his son rush out to greet him, his mother following not too far behind. His ears almost went deaf as she screamed when he told her the news. He settled on the dining table to eat with his family and thought how wonderfully favoured he was to have such success both in marriage and business. Life indeed was good.
At 12 midnight, while all was asleep, each with their issues, problems and dreams, the streets were finally at rest and Gidi town could finally be at peace. That is until the rise of dawn. Then it would be a new day, a new hustle.