Confessions of a latecomer, sometimes early comer: I sha come!!!

I’m a notorious latecomer at my office, in fact my boss always expresses shock anytime I make it into the office at 9am on the dot or a few minutes past.
“To what do we owe this honor?” is her usual jibe

But I have an excuse ... I mean I have several extremely important REASONS because, well … I exercise first thing in the morning. I know some of you are wondering what it has to do with anything so I’ll start from the beginning… here goes …

“I’m an exercise freak, and since I discovered jogging I’ve given up other forms exercising. At this point I’m supposed to tell you the benefits of regular exercise a la flat stomach, pert tits, firm butt, slim arms, stronger heart, better health etcetera etcetera etcetera and then say that regular exercise means that you can still eat regular meals (not gorging yourself) and still stay fit and all that jazz.

I really should tell you how I love the early morning silence, the communion with God and nature, I should rhapsodize about how things become clearer as I clear the garbage from my mind and body as music flows through my blood, it’s rhythm in tandem with the beating of my heart and my feet hitting hard tar. How can I describe the way every word of the songs drop into the depth of me? But as wonderful as all the above are, they are not the real reason I jog regularly.”

The question then is “Ayodele why do you resume late for work?” The answer is “Because of the view.”

Then you go like “What?”

And I give you a totally senseless answer like…

“I’m not talking about the deserted streets, the beautiful trees, dirty gutters and traffic free roads. No it’s not the serenity it’s the people. I love watching people come to life early in the morning.

Hookers being dropped off by clients or returning home from a night of hard work, all bleary eyed and disheveled, transvestites fixing their wigs, returning home to confused wives and girlfriends. Night watchmen still in sweaters and holding their torches like lifelines. Drunks waking up from gutters looking disoriented (like “what the hell am I doing here?”).

Watching beggars sit according to rank and realizing there’s more to begging than meets the eye. Watching young men and women clearing the shack they slept in the night before. Discovering that your average schizophrenic sleeps too, finding out exactly where they sleep, watching them get ready for the day and wondering where they find all that crap they carry around.

Getting hailed by passing bus conductors “Ta lo nran e ni se, ma se wo’le” (Translation: What the heck is wrong with this fool, hop in so you’d get to wherever you’re going faster!).

Watching Hausa boys pee in the middle of the road and watching me watch them (I’m the early morning mad woman who is always running from God-knows-what). People going to early morning services .

Listening to the lyrics of the Mullah as he calls “Allahu Akbar” (No other god like Allah). I study the methods of washing carrots, I get toasted by okada riders and motor car drivers (“let me give you a ride now.”) and finally arriving at my neighborhood around the time the akara and pap sellers start hawking their goods and receive my usual greeting of “E ku jogging o!”(translation lost in English but you can manage “well done for jogging!” ridiculous)and from my more nosey neighbours “E pe di e l’eni” (you are a bit late today) as if they synchronized their alarm clocks with mine…"

Now you wonder why I get to my office late …

Ten easy steps to becoming a politician in Ibadan

I know a lot of us out there are planning to become politicians in 2011, in order to make your life easier the following steps should be should be followed carefully, especially if you are from Ibadan (sections are applicable to other PinDiPin states)


The Ten Steps
1
Drop out of school: Any level - primary, secondary or tertiary institution will do! Polish up your English language, by using c instead of ch or sh. For example say cusing siar (cushion chair), sikin (Chicken), sop (shop), mison (mission) or vice-versa (fici-faca) , adfansh (advance), shoja (soldier) etc. please consult writer for more lessons.

2
Laze around for a couple of years: due to the fact that you have to experience poverty first hand, you need not get a job, live off your parents, friends and relatives. Make sure you have a lot of friends in the same situation, hang around yahoo yahoo boys but DON'T join them.

3
Get Smart: at this point tell the members of your family that you want to open a shop selling second hand goods at Gate or Ogunpa (electronics, cars, spare parts, whatever!). They'll give you money quickly because they are tired of seeing you loafing about, so they'll beg , steal or borrow to get you off your arse.

Impregnate the apprentice of an hairdresser.

4
Attend a lot of Fuji parties: this is an important prerequisite, you do have to attend parties thrown by fuji musicians, Sina Akanni, Atawewe, Igi Rogodo, Taye Paso, Rasidi Resese etc ensure you 'spray' these people with a lot of money so that they will sing your praises, ensure the tapes (insist on tapes, no CD's please) are distributed to bus drivers plying Beere, Idi-Arere, Isale-Osi, Agbeni, Sapati etc routes.

Impregnate an Alhaja that has made a lot of money, don't worry she has 5 kids for 5 other men and she's not expecting you to take responsibility for this one.

5
Get involved in a couple of fights: Ensure you have weapons like machetes, daggers and Ake UTC (axe), get a couple of marks on your body (one across the cheek will come in handy when trying to prove you're a real man or woman), this will ensure that nobody will mess with you.

6
Get Fat: You must try to be as fat as possible, developing a beer gut is the easiest way to do this, and make sure that your head becomes fat too!

Marry a younger and richer version of Alhaja, insist that she must be properly bleached (if she isn't already) throw a big party for your dead great-grandfather.

7
Join a political party: by the time you reach step 4, the appropriate political party(ies) would have started sending out feelers, take it easy and show a lot of reluctance, this will help you get a better post in the party, it will also help when there is more than one party involved. Join the one with the most thugs and most disregard for propriety.

Start dating Ibadan Polytechnic girls.

8
Get Spiritualists: you must choose your spiritualists with care, the best thing is to get two from each religion, ensure you get a ruthless one and an Holy one, the holy one in each religion will balance out the ruthlessness of his partner, with the result that you'll be able to deal with all known and perceived enemies without any repercussions…and yes, you'll get to go to heaven.

9
Visit Molete: this is an important pre-requisite or you won't make it. You have to eat amala off the same plate with the strong man of…oh wait…he's dead, mmmm, okay hold up…we'll keep you updated on this. Meanwhile, you can pay a visit to the graveside which is going to be turned into a tourist attraction very soon.

10
Vie for a political office: you should start off as a local government council chairman, by the time you leave you would have 'made' enough money to go to the next step (a governor or senator), marry your polytechnic girlfriend (she'll be first lady since she can speak henglis), recruit your old layabout friends as bodyguards (just tip them like 500 daily and they'll die for you)…and then live happily ever after.

Akani

Akani
of the beautiful eyes
with the kissable lips
the tender hearted
of the gentle mien

Akani o
Akani oko
Akani o
Akani odo
Akani r’oka f’eye je
Akani lo ro fun baba

Akani
For whom my heart beats
The one my love needs
To whom my soul yields
The place my home is

Akani
Swayed with every wind of thought
That tore my heart to bits
Trampled my soul to pieces
Threw my love back at me

Akani lo we l’odod
Gbogbo omoge yo owo ose
Won ni ‘t’emi ni o gba, t’emi ni o mu’
Akani o, Akani r’oko
Akani o, Akani r’odo
Akani r’oka fun mi je
Akani lo ro fun baba

Akani who never loved me
Akani who didn’t deserve me
Akani I wish you
Yes I wish you
Oh, how I wish you
Far away from me.

AE Olofintuade © 2009

I rilli lof you my dia

I lof you
I rilli do, I sware
Nobodi fit make my hart
Dey beat gidigba
For my shest
But you my deer

You wan no wettin?
Weda I fit dye for u?
Why not my deer
I fit do anytin for you
In fact go bring the cloth now
I go dye am no matter the time

I won spend all my moni
On top of my lof for you
Make I carry you go
Mr. Biggings
I go buy you meetpye
Cake and coke, I sware

Wetin consine Silifa
Consine awa lof?
The lof wey we haf wey pass jollof
Her time don pass
She don comot
Efen my first wife
No get mout for dia

Na you be my lof
I go buy u anytin you want
I go do paming and jerry for your head
I go buy you to mash shoe and bag

Just say u go marri me
My dia
If I no carry you go
My families houses
Make you say
My name no be Suraju

I lof you my dia
I rilli do
Na your lof dey kill me like beer
Na on top your head I go die

The diary of a mad man – 31st January

You might not believe it, but there’s nothing as exciting and as liberating as voluntary madness. The day I chose to become a madman was the first day of my liberty. As I took each cloth off my body I felt like I was breaking the shackles which have held me bound from the day I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.
For the first time in my life I could shout, scream obscenities… but that was short lived. I fought long and hard to become a certified, totally naked-on-the-street mad pesin.

I love being a mad man because basically I can do anything I like and nobody will blame me, they’ll say:
“He slapped you? You’d better start running or better still go to your pastor to do deliverance for you, how can a mad man slap you? You want to go back and fight a mad man abi? Please go ahead; just don’t come back here after the fight! I don’t want anybody to think I know you.”

But the real freedom lies in the fact that I chose not to do those things, I chose to live my life violence free … hehehe … but don’t tell anybody or they’ll start taking me for granted. I’m no father Christmas and I enjoy the way people cross to the other side of the road when they see me coming.

I even saw my mother once, gorgeously attired in a pink lace, she was sitting in one car that looks spanking new (father must be having another affair). I took out time to study her while she was busy reading a newspaper. Her face looked so stiff I suspected she must have had another face-lift.

Mother dear mother. The social butterfly, the social climber. I was so busy studying her I didn’t notice when a man came up behind me and grabbed me, I screamed with rage and that was when she looked up, our eyes met and I saw the shock of recognition in her eyes. Although her face remained immobile, but those eyes, they expressed horror, fear, revulsion and something akin to pain…

“Kasali, leave him alone!” she shouted at the man who was still busy shoving me.
“Modom, he’s a madings o! I seesaw him dey looks looks at you.” He said, reluctantly letting me go
“I said let him go!” she shoved a thousand naira note through the window at me, I laughed, picked up the money and tore it to bits. She looked at me and I gave her the finger… my mother … I remember my pre-freedom years, she had so much power over me. But now I’m free, free from her greedy, grasping claws forever … freeeeee.

The diary of a mad man - 30th January

They call me ‘alakowe’ or the gentleman, that’s what they call me to my face anyway, but when I’m not there they call me ‘were’ and ‘asinwin’. The old women hiss and sigh deeply “… and he’s someone’s child, mmm, were dun wo l’oja, ko se bi l’omo (literally: watching a madman in the market can be entertaining but it’s not entertaining to have a child who is stark, raving mad).”

The young women sigh and avert their eyes from my dangling member, they sigh over my tall physique, I can almost hear them sighing
“What a bloody waste!” and I smile and I laugh and laugh

The pity me, you can see it in their stance, the look in their eyes, they pity me … they look at my dirty and naked body, my filthy matted hair, my wild eyes, my yellowing teeth and shake their head. But I laugh, I look at them and laugh long and hard, I laugh my wildest and throatiest laughter because I am free… and they are not.

Writing this diary is actually one of my whims, something I just decided to do, and I think it’s kind of interesting you know. Sometimes I just get a bee in my bonnet … actually, I permanently have a bee in my bonnet … and I laugh at my own jokes and laugh, and of course, they give me a wide berth which makes me laugh harder…
My getting this pen and book to write with happened quite by accident … there’s this Ibo boy who sells secondhand books.

What friendship is … NOT

I read articles on how I’m supposed to behave, because I don’t give a flick about what people think about me, but I do care about not hurting others.
I read articles on psychology to check if I’ve not totally crossed the line which divides sanity (a.k.a. boringness) and total insanity (a.k.a. stripping naked on the road – an interesting idea really).
I read articles on personalities, to be sure I am not the only one with a personality disorder.
I read articles on love (identifying it, difference between love/lust/infatuation) so that each time I lose my head over another loser, I will be able to identify my feelings as infatuation and move on. I have read articles on friendship, singlehood, parenthood, fatherhood (yep because I have to be mum and dad, now I’m supermom!) … I’ve read practically every topic under the sun for various reasons (and some for none!).
Each of these articles try to tell me how to live, what to wear, what’s hot and what’s not. Sometimes there’s so much information flowing through my brains I just shut down! Anyway, my revenge on the world is this article on what friendship is not.
Actually this is more about talking to myself than anybody else, these are the rules I believe I should follow if I’m to have friends and not die a friendless old maid (although the old maid side will probably not change!) So here we go

Friendship is not

A ship – although the word is made up of friend and ship, the ship part is definitely not true. I know some of my friends who can compete with a ship when it comes to their girth (I mean their waistline), but really they ARE NOT SHIPS. You are not to board them and expect to be entertained (this seems to be what all that we want these days, to be ENTERTAINED). Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, your friend is not D’banj (you should be so lucky), so sentences like “oh she’s sooo booring”, “Don’t you ever do anything else but read/watch videos/surf the net/ beat your …em?” etc. does not apply

Fun: Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying friendship shouldn’t be fun, but I’d be careful when all my friends “just wanna have fuun!”. Go clubbing, go swimming, laugh, laugh, laugh, screeeeeeeeeam, gossip, feel better than everybody else, get high, get laid, look down on anybody unlucky enough not to be included in your circle of (myopic and silly) friends … nah friendship is not all about fun. Friendship should be serious too you know, when you get to discuss matters of grave importance (like the kind of clothes you should wear to church on Sunday). Friendship is actually a lot of work, sweat, tears, rage. You invest your time, money and emotions in it.

Cheap: this is a lesson I’ve had to learn over and over again. Friendship is COSTLY, it is VERY expensive and not only in monetary terms. It will cost you your time, emotions and money, and what do you reap? Fierce loyalty. If you cannot do anything for anybody, give anything to anybody; help anybody … that your selfish body will continue feeding on itself.

Have I tortured you enough? I can actually go on and on, but I think I’d better save the rest for another day.