GLORY DAYS!!

Ajuwaya! I love that word! Have you ever noticed how it sounds like chun lee drop-kicking an unfortunate victim’s behind? Being a youth corper is lovely, honestly there’s nothing better, under the sun or in the rain and all that jazz….. Lovely just lovely. Well there has to be a point to this so I’ll get to it. I’m listing my top five highlights of youth service. What’s not to love about being a corper (doesn’t that name sound so cool?)

#SpoilerAlert! Those of you expecting to see “allowee” on the list… well don’t. That’s a thing of the past!

 

#5 CAMP:

Orientation was fun! Who wouldn’t love it? From the blistering, pneumonia causing, harmattan cold at 4:30am during parade, to the lectures, and parades, in the scorching hot afternoon sun. Don’t get me started on the food, hostels, toilets, and the queues! It’s the total preparation for “real life”, not to mention strength building for future leaders…… lovely just lovely.

#4 POSTING:

So you love to travel to exotic places? The farther, the better? Then you’ll love the NYSC! There is nothing like leaving your home to travel to a place without light, water, housing, FOOD, or an understandable language/ culture. Why should you do that? For the sights my dear, they are just lovely!

#3 THE SPIRIT OF SERVITUDE: 

Just like a certain private university, the NYSC is dedicated to building servant leaders. This auspicious aspiration is automatically displayed in the use of corpers at their various places of assignment. “Hey ajuwaya carry this upstairs immediately!”, “the meeting has started! Where are the teacups?”, “hey OTONDO why are you sitting there when madam’s office is dirty? Start sweeping and don’t come out till the place is absolutely lovely”.

#2 CDS:

“Pick a day and lets all go to a random community to start to start a project we won’t finish”. “In fact let’s meet once every week for four hours to discuss the ramifications of this project.” “It’s not like we’re busy during the week or anything…….”

 

#1 THE KIT:

Honestly do I really have to talk about “the kit”? Those who know it KNOW IT! From the “jungle boots” that are either too big or small, the “one size fits all” crested vest, the shrinking khaki to the ludicrous cap! That’s what I call dressed for success! You should see corpers on parade at the passing out ceremony with the faded, (now brown) kit. The pride of the nation! It makes you want to do it all over again. There is nothing like dressing up full kit (7/7) it’s so lovely!

Well those are my poignant thoughts… what’s yours?

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GHOST

"It’s almost too easy" I said to myself as I crossed the lobby of the hotel. My mission was completed, successfully I might add, and all I had to do was leave quietly. This was the easiest part of my trade since I didn't exist. I'd stopped existing two years ago when quit my boring life as a banker and entered into my new life.

I walked out of lobby and started towards the car park. One of my many rules is to never use a valet service, the less people who notice you the better, especially if you need a fast getaway. This was exactly what I needed since my mark wasn't known for his benevolent forgiving nature. Since I just stolen ten million dollars in cash from him I wasn't willing to take any chances. My new life was too sweet to lose.

By the way I'm Ghost, ex-banker now turned grifter, thief, once in a while assassin, and all around gentleman. I'll not bore you with the specifics that initiated my career change, but know it wasn't caused by repressed childhood memories or any of that psychobabble. Let's just say I was bored.

Being my humble self I’ll give you a synopsis of the entire plan, though I won’t tell all for security reasons. The robbery plan was simple, this made it easy to accomplish. Plus The General (my mark) was getting complacent in his security arrangements. He and everyone else knew that it would be absolutely crazy to “try” to rob him. Maybe that’s way I did it. All I had to do was book a room down the hall from his. From there I kept his security detail under surveillance. Dressing like a hotel service staff I knocked out the single guard watching the room while the General was away, cracked the lock to the safe lock and walked out with the money in a laundry bag along with his sheets and towels which after a wild night of cavorting with “the nation’s future leaders” really needed cleaning.

I took the service elevator down to the next floor where I had another room waiting. I put the cash into a suitcase and sent it ahead of me to the airport (you just have to love these hotel services). Needless to say I already had a flight waiting for me to get the heck out of here.

I started the car and pulled out of the car and out of the hotel. By the way if you’re ever in Abuja try Sheraton hotel. It has all the five star qualities of Hilton without the crowd. Plus it’s strategically located to the express way that makes it faster to get to the airport in case you need a quick getaway. I cranked up the volume of the stereo as Stevie wonder played a "WONDERful" jazz piece.

Whistling along I noticed the cab behind wasn't trying to overtake.

"That's weird" I said aloud as I slowed to see if he would take his chance. He didn't. I sped up a bit to see if I could put some distance between us. I couldn't. Okay this was bad. Bad but not worse as the proverbial shit hadn't hit the fan yet.

"Okay then" I thought as I sped up. Now this was exciting! I'd gotten too used to being Ghost I'd forgotten the adrenaline filled moments of the chase.

I skillfully evaded the cab till I got to the airport. Skipping out of the car I walked briskly into the building and straight to the gift shop. Hiding behind a stack of magazines I watched the entrance for : 0in 0in 0pt;"> Whistling along I noticed the cab behind wasn't tspan>

 "Average" I laughed aloud, I was totally average in height, build and looks. The only extraordinary thing about me was my ability to blend into any scene until I disappeared.

Then I noticed her. It wasn't her appearance that made me suspicious rather it was the way she casually strolled into the airport lobby, looked over at the gift, saw me, spoke softly into an intercom then slowly walked away. Shivers ran down my spine and for a minute my heart froze. Her eyes were colder than the arctic in December.

“Compliments of The General" I murmured as I immediately left the gift shop and headed towards the waiting area.

She wasn't alone that was certain. However since I was as paranoid as a third world dictator it was difficult for me to judge properly. Taking a deep breath I calmly started observing the numerous people in waiting room. By my not too shabby deductive reasoning skills I brought the number to five. The Icewoman, a man wearing glasses standing by the pay phone, two huge men standing by gates, and a short swarthy man with a perpetual scowl who was staring at me rather murderously from the counter. Despite the lack of effort at subterfuge he was obviously the leader.

The PA announced that my flight was boarding and Swarthy smiled at me knowingly, daring me to try and board it. I smiled back sweetly at him then stood and walked straight towards him. He looked startled for a few satisfying seconds then narrowed his eyes and swiftly put his hand in his pocket. Before he could react I pulled out my Colt .357 from my pocket and put one between his eyes. Turning I put another two rounds into the two huge guys by the gatal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"> She wasn't alone that was rif"; font-size: 12pt;">By then there was total pandemonium in the waiting room with people screaming and running for cover. Just the way I liked it.

Ducking my head, I ran out the gates towards the hangers, thanking the gods for my foresight. I'd had a source smuggle the gun into the gift shop this morning. The General wasn't that stupid and he was quick when it came to vendetta.

The plane ticket was another I used once in a while. I actually had a small plane on standby in an exclusive hanger. By the time I ran into my private hanger the Cessna was already warmed up. As I reached up to climb into it I heard footsteps from behind. I had forgotten about Glasses! I turned and reached for my colt at the same time. Too late! Glasses was right there in front of me with a nasty grin on his face, his gun pointed steadily at my head. I felt the cold grim, fear of certain death wash over me. My hands were trembling as I dropped my gun.

"Say cheese" Glasses said, I closed my eyes and a shot rang out.

"You're not dead you fool" she said.

I opened my eyes and she smiled at me her eyes no longer cold.

"Cheese" I said to the still figure of Glasses on the floor.

"Idiot" she hissed "security operatives will soon be here and father has more spies!”

"Great" I murmured as I followed her into the plane.

I remember when I first saw those eyes.  Exactly a year ago from today, I was onto the ghost thing then but was without a lot of experience. It was in Lagos and she was my mark. The story’s too embarrassing to narrate so let’s just say that I botched the job, got knocked out, and ended up waking up on her couch.

“Idiot” she had said then. “If you want to rob a lady at least find out whether she has training in counter-intelligence first”

“Assuming I live out this evening I’ll do that” I said groaning as I sat up.

“Oh you’ll live don’t worry” she said with a smirk “I don’t kill amateurs”

“I’m not an amateur!” I whined, and then I caught my expression in the mirror and smiled. She smiled back and I was a captive in love.

“So do you want to learn from a pro?” she said

“What’s the catch?” I replied caution returning to me.

“Your catch is ten million dollars” she replied.“Assuming I live out this evening I’ll do that” I said groaning as I sat up.

“Know what I mean” I returned relentless.

“We’ll rob my father” she said. I waited for the smile that signaled that it was time to laugh at the joke. She stared back without a twitch on her lips.

“The General!” I sputtered “are you insane? Kill me now! Okay don’t kill me just let me go!”

“Scared?” she asked with that smile again.

“Totally” I quipped.

“Don’t worry I’ll protect you” she said with the killer smile. Well I was a captive in love, what could I do but acquiesce? Well at least she kept her promise. 

 

The pilot pulled out of the hanger and in five minutes we were airborne. In an hour we were flying over Lagos and only then did she relax. I opened a bottle of champagne and stood; she smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips.

"Dom Perignon?" She asked.

"Compliments of The General" I replied with a smile.


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Hows My Driving?

THE NIGERIAN WAY!

How’s my driving?

The first in my “the Nigerian way” series is based on something dear to my heart, driving. I love cars and I love good driving; sport cars to be driven ‘fast and furiously’, luxury cars without any ‘need for speed’ to be on ‘cruise control’. My one bias is that 18 wheelers be driven (pardon the pun) off the streets!

However driving is definitely not what it used to be or should be for that matter in Nigeria. So today we explore Nigerian driving (Abuja being the case study) by discussing the various facets of the traffic “conglomerate”, namely the drivers, passengers, traffic wardens, roads, rules and regs. So step on the clutch and put your car into gear 1.

The roads

 Abuja being the center of the FCT has an intricately well designed and well thought out road network comprising of free-ways, overhead bridges, gigantic roundabouts, and traffic and street lights. However, due to the constant flow of immigrants to this land brimming with milk and honey as well as the incessant threats to buildings within the metropolis by the infamous “boko boys”, these road network is fraught with traffic jams left right and centre. These traffic jams are the keys that have opened the “Pandora’s box” of nightmarish driving within the FCT.

It should also be stated that although the road network is awesome within Abuja, the condition of the roads in other satellite towns within the FCT is appalling! People in Kuje and Bwari know what I’m talking about. It’s even bad in Abuja as well. It’s ridiculous how an inter-section (airport junction) separates Jabi and its awesome roads from Karimo and its port-holes.

The drivers

I believe the most appropriate adjective to qualify most drivers here In the FCT would be “frightful”. Others include words like “hasty”, “scary”, “foolish”, “immature” would also suffice. Sometimes I feel like going round pasting neon colored signs that say things like “stop and check before you turn!”, then I assume that most of them are illiterates anyway so they won’t read the signs. Maybe I’ll advertise on Wazobia fm.

I’ll admit it, I’m taking this very personal but you would too if you you’ve been hit before! It’s really bad! Commercial drivers drive off the road and create extra lanes that worsen the already terrible hold-ups. They often hit each other’s vehicles and proceed to fight in the middle of the street! During the last three days I have witnessed over five of such fights. In one, the bus driver yanked the antenna off his opponent’s car and struck him across the face with it.

Private car drivers are no better. They often disregard proper drive etiquette and move with speeds that match that of Nascar drivers. Honestly I cannot tell the difference between bus drivers and private cars. I’ve even witnessed a fight between them once. The regular guy won!

What’s the world coming to? Driving on sidewalks, ramming each other’s cars, fighting in the middle of the street, next thing you know 14yr olds will be driving convertibles… wait I’ve seen that already!

The passengers

 I have a message for anyone and everyone who uses public transportation “the best way for you to get to your destination is for you to leave early enough!” the bus driver isn’t Fernando Alonso and your bus isn’t a Ferrari!

Last week I was returning home from work with the usual hold-up all over Abuja and I was thinking that the bus driver was either tired or the last sane commercial bus driver in Nigeria. He refused to follow his comrades as they tried to skip the hold-up by brushing pedestrians off the sidewalks. His nobility was rewarded with grumbling, disgruntled passengers hurling insults at him for “slacking”. When I put my big mouth in the matter by praising the driver for his adherence to the rules some of the insults were hurled in my direction as well. The only printable comment being “guy which one you dey na? You be Jesus?” To say that I was pissed would be a euphemism.

The wardens

Okay so I’m angry at the drivers and pissed at the passengers, what word you accurately describe my feelings towards the wardens? Sometimes I believe they exist to worsen the already bad traffic situation. Don’t get me wrong, some of these wardens work their rear ends off all day and deserve any iota of respect and gratitude they receive. For instance there’s a particular warden that dances as he directs traffic in a fluid manner that passes for excellence. Brilliant fellow! Tip him whenever you can.

On the other hand there are many lazy worthless wardens who deserve to be beaten with a stick then soaked in honey and dried on a soldier ant farm. They ignore the “call of duty” placed on them by their country and choose instead to lounge like belly filled cats.

I witnessed (you might have noticed that I do a lot of that) an incident where a cab driver blocked traffic at an intersection.  He indicated that he was going left but stayed on the path of those going forward. The wardens didn’t even budge until an irate bus driver had seized the man’s keys and started a fight. A fight which they made no effort to separate but watched from under their shade. I didn’t put my big mouth this time.

As annoyed as I am about this situation I can’t go around whipping or shooting people just because I’m mad. So I guess the least I can do is offer unique driving tips and reminders of certain rules they might have forgotten.

DRIVING TIPS

·         Don’t blow your horn when the traffic light is red. It just states that you’re either color blind or dumb.

·         The sidewalks are for pedestrians!

·         If the car in front of you stops, don’t use your car to push it!

·         The road cannot increase its size overnight, if its two lanes don’t create a third one.

·         You can’t pump air into your tire by increasing your speed.

·         Please don’t ping and drive.





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The Art of Achieving Nothing!

Let’s be honest with ourselves success is overrated. I mean everyone is really trying hard to be a success at one thing or the other and most are failing at it. Why not try failure and succeed? I have come up with a fool-proof plan to make one succeed at failure. I called it “The 7 Habits of Highly Ineffective People”. So without further ado I’ll divulge the secrets to perpetual stagnation and incessant retrogression.

Habits 1 “Never make plans”

Why would you want to? Planning is for people that want success and you don’t right? Failure is much easier to accomplish without any form of planning. Planning is boring anyway and failure is spontaneous, careless and carefree. A wise person once said “if you fail to plan you plan to fail” so I guess right (or wrong) track.

Habits 2 “Never listen to advice”

This includes mine by the way. If you want to fail then you have to do it properly by inventing your own method. Beside advice is generally good and failure does not require wisdom as a criterion. A sure and effective way to know you failed at something is for people to say “I told you so!”

Habit 3 “Always procrastinate”

Never put off procrastination! To succeed at failure you must ceaselessly succumb to avoiding that nasty habit of doing things on time. The only thing that can be done timely is sleep, anything else will lead to success and you don’t want that. Time and tide wait for on one but failure has all day.

Habit 4 “Me over we”

I cannot overemphasize this point… teamwork is for weaklings! Your opinions matters more than that of others so why even listen. Why fail as a team when you can do it conveniently without others? Besides it’s a wrong kind of mindset to take others down with you. Synergy is for wimps without energy.

Habit 7 “Never be in touch with reality”

“Reali-who? I don’t even know her talk less of contacting her” practicality is for low minded success bums and you don’t want that ever! The situation is not what it is but what you want it to be. In this case that’ll be nothing. Never take things at face value, imagine them at face value. Why try to make money when you have a million dollars… you’re the king of a milk factory…ten little big toes dancing round a square…

Habit 7 “Overspend!”

This is the best habit ever! Synonyms include ‘floss’, ‘flex’, ‘flenjor’ etc. let’s be honest spending is far better than saving money which is tedious and boring. Plus we aren’t into delayed gratification. Spend the dough like there is no tomorrow (rhymes)

There you have it, with these few less than difficult steps you’re guaranteed a life of failure, penury and happiness (you wanted to fail right?). If it works don’t contact me! Seriously don’t!     

p.s Next week i'm starting a series of articles with the theme "the Nigerian way". In the words of that famous nollywood cliche "watch out!"  

RAKS

I recently experienced a rare act of selflessness that lacked the usual individualism imbibed by the Nigerian public. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that Nigerians are not nice; it’s just that seeing an act of kindness always surprises me. Guess I’m just a cynic.

It was Sunday morning and I was trying to get to church early from ‘gwags’, i.e. the University of Abuja for you non-residents. I got to the car park and decided to take an ‘el-rufai’ bus instead of the small ones. In you don’t know (non-residents) the ‘el-rufai’ is the name dubbed by the general public for the large bus introduced by a former FCT minister of the same name. It’s like the BRT with space for two to sit comfortably and for three to sit uncomfortably. There is provision for those who would rather stand (at a lesser fee of course!).

I managed to get a seat somewhere at the front of the bus beside a young man. Thirty minutes into the journey (it’s quite a distance from gwags to town) the bus stopped to pick more passengers, one of whom was an old man. The gentleman beside me didn’t miss a beat as he immediately rose and gave his seat to the old man. I started feeling a twinge of guilt that I dint even think of doing the same thing so I told the man that there was enough space for all of us. He smiled and said “thank you” like I gave up the entire seat.

Sometime later we spotted to pick up what I can only describe as an entire extended family without the dads. Like clockwork the man beside rose again and offered his seat so a couple of children could sit. Since there was only enough space for one (the old man was still seating there) I put one of the children on my lap and the man smiled at me like I single handedly instituted world peace and global enrichment.

I know some of you might be thinking that it’s not such a big deal but it was to me. When was the last time you did something nice for someone? I mean someone you don’t know without wanting something in return?

A writer (Sean Covey) referred to something called “RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS” (RAKS). You remember kindness right? the quality of being kind, meaning compassionate, humanitarian and benevolent? Anyway he encouraged people to carry out RAKs on both strangers and people they know. He said and I can attest that selfless service is emotionally rewarding.

You know what? Let’s all pick a day to carry out RAKs to people we wouldn’t normally ‘roll’ with. Please bear in mind that RAKs do not include buying soap for the person beside you who constantly stink, nor does it mean giving handouts to the less privileged. They could be anything from thoughtful messages to being there for a friend or non-friend when you’re needed. Like my friend on the bus you will find it much more rewarding than being on the receiving end. In the words I read off a tee-shirt (which usually carry unfathomed wisdom) “lets drop love not bombs”.        

Emmanuel's WILD Imagination: COMMERCIAL TERRORISM!

Emmanuel's WILD Imagination: COMMERCIAL TERRORISM!: I remember one occasion when I went to the market (yes I do that sometimes) and after purchasing everything I wanted I realised that the al...

COMMERCIAL TERRORISM!

I remember one occasion when I went to the market (yes I do that sometimes) and after purchasing everything I wanted I realised that the all the items were brands from my favourite commercials. I had unconsciously bought products because of their commercials. For instance, I prefer 'Remia' to 'blueband' but that 'B without BB' had me buying Blueband before I knew it. 

What's the deal with these advertisers anyway? Do they study the general public and trends in colours, music and use this knowledge to influence people to buy products? Yes they do!! Wow I feel used, abused, manipulated, cheated and unfairly coerced! Why can't I just buy Remia instead of Blueband? Why can't I buy Ariel instead of Omo? Why can't I eat at my favourite joint instead of tramping off to the nearest eatery I saw on T.V? WHY!!???

Before you start thinking you're safe from this menace think back to the last time you bought a shirt, toothbrush, a DVD or even matches! what was the your ratio decedendi? You see!? We are all influenced by commercials. I'm even welling to bet that you use the bank with the coolest T.V advert.

I'm actually concerned with the fact that no one is doing anything about this not so new threat. Everyone is so concerned about political terrorism and making such a big deal out of it that this menace has continued without any punitive measures. thus this unguarded threat of hypnotic influence and coercive power over both the masses of urban metropolis and rural townships goes unchecked and unrestricted! Don't you think its a little scary that in a backward community in Africa a certain tribe that don't wear clothes have no idea of the political workings of their state but have coke bottles? Okay that's a scene from 'the gods must be crazy!' but it could happen.

Soon going shopping will be risky business and those advertisers who hold the monopoly on commercials will have free rein in our capitalist economy! I'd like to go on rambling about these un-noticed dangers but I'm really hungry and I have to prepare something to eat. Want to know what it it? I'll give you an hint....."there's a rumble in my tummy going boom bala boom bala boom..."