Admonitions

Do you really find something when you stop looking for it?

Have you ever misplaced something very consequential, say a very critical document whose backup has been discarded, or which has not been discarded, but has, in fact, not been backed up? You’ll need it in 2 days, so you search frantically through your desk, pushing pile upon piles of files, then you... Well, you get what I mean: you lost something you desperately need to have back.

I was in such a situation about 3 weeks ago. I misplaced a printed document containing details of some major stuff I was working on. I searched my office frantically, even though I ‘knew’ it was not supposed to be there. I pulled out a lot of files, looking through to see if somehow it had found its way into them. Did I get it? No.

Back at home, I searched everywhere: my bedside, under the bed (you wouldn’t believe how many things have been retrieved from under there!), my bags, my library, the living room. Everywhere. This frantic sear went on for days, alternating between my office and my house, until I reached a point where I gave up, and was ready to approach the person authority concerned to re-provide the details that were on the misplaced. So I decided that I would call him and say, “I have done something really stupid. Here is what happened.”

The day before I decided to tell him, I went to my office on a cold Jos-standard weather, switched on the light, and went to my table. Guess what I saw. You know. Sitting right under a file I believed there was no way it could get there.

On Tuesday, I was looking for (I always am) something. I can’t recall what It was I was looking for, but I do know I needed to get it. So, I flipped my bag over, and my handkerchief fell out. That sounds like nothing until I tell you, that handkerchief had eluded me for about a week.

Lesson: Take a break. Maybe that is what you need.

64: Do we now get the title of Sarah Ladipo Manyika's novel?

If you wrote JAMB around 2017 (or so) axis, you probably have come across the novel, In Dependence.?And by the way, Manyika’s novel is the finest novel I have read between 2017 and now. Do I love the plot? Yes. Do I love the setting? Yes. Do I love the dialogue? Do I love the characters? That’s not even a question.

This novel gave me an orgasm (you know what I mean) that no other text has given me. Well, that could be literal too, because when I picked up the same JAMB text in the following year, I discovered that the text had been shortened and some ‘inappropriate’ scenes had been taken out –scenes depicting romance or sex. For me, I think this modification did do something about the characters’ depictions. Especially my guy, Tayo.

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“Each character...s complex and well-drawn”

Victor Ehikamenor

This paragraph is not to appraise Manyika’s characters in In Dependence, but I cannot talk about what I want to talk about without first mentioning the character of Tayo.

Tayo, the protagonist, is the first person that comes to mind of everyone who has engaged Manyika’s novel. Personal opinion: even if Tayo was the student who, in the last page of the novel, postulated that Tayo and Vanessa “Must be mad...[ ]it’s freezing,” he would still be the stand-out guy. Aside from his personality, Tayo had the personality. He had the charisma. He had the ‘aura that draws girls’ kind of thingy –well, at least before age and stuff caught up with him. He had the brain to be at Balliol College on a “...special scholarship [weh] dey don make for de boy...” As if those were not enough, Tayo has one final attribute: the ability to connect people, places, eras.

Ok, I really hate that this work is beginning to sound like an academic paper. So, I’ll make it shorter.

Tayo lived in a Nigeria that had just gained independence and was struggling to find it s footing as an independent nation. At Oxford, Tayo met people who argued that African nations had gained independence far too early before they got ready to handle what came with independence. Tayo, himself, ?was that fine boy who was not ?interested in the discourse of politics, and, in fact, used those social gatherings as mere avenues for him to showcase his personality and charisma, win as many Christines as possible, and “hope[ ] to meet other women and further expand his horizons.” Until he realised that the fence wasn’t the best place to stand in terms of consequential actions like independence. And this came after Oxford. And with that realisation came Miriam. And Kemi. And old age.

Nigeria clocked 64 on Tuesday. I do not know how many people you have heard whine about how bad everything has gone between Tuesday and today, but I’ll put the number at at least 5 times. And for each of those 5 times, you must have heard stuff about:

-?????? Dollar rate;

-?????? Fuel price; and

-?????? Food scarcity.

It’s admission cycle now, and a lot of my peers are either dusting off their application essays or accepting congratulations for receiving a fully-funded scholarship in the UK. I am not saying neither is good, but I am asking: at what cost?

Gaining a fully-funded scholarship to go abroad and study at an world-standard institution is one of the greatest ways that people can contribute to their societies. But, what of instances when you write off your country in order to jump to another one?

What of when you portray your people as a hopeless people and portray yourself as? the last and only hope for their survival otherwise they risk extinction?

What of my friend who, in her application essay, said her father was killed by his brother in a land dispute as “is usual in our community?” You will think that is okay until you hear that the 'dead' father was the father who paid the $100 application fee, and is, in fact, alive!

My friend, it’s okay to go out of Nigeria, but it is not okay to take life out of it. It’s high time we started to take Nigeria serious. Things may not be working out for us as we expect them to, but when we characteristerically play nonchalance and pessimism in affairs of Nigeria, we are helping to destroy it faster than we think.

I am not a political analyst, but I think that as a nation, there are a lot of things we can do to see the Nigeria we dream of. Of course, we can protest, but we can do more than just protest. It starts with our decision to not just stand by and watch Nigeria. It starts with taking part in the wave of local government elections taking place around the country. It starts with a conscious decision to be active players in the public institutions of Nigeria. It starts with understanding and implementing not just our rights, but also our duties.

A time will come, like Tayo, when we will realise the folly of not being active in our country’s public system. And when we finally realise it, may we not regret it.

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Lesson: The title of Manyika’s novel is actually 2 words: ‘In’ and ‘Dependence.’?

Here today, gone tomorrow.?

On Wednesday, I met an accident on my way to work. Should I say, ‘An accident met me?’

At my major junction, I flagging a keke (tricycle) to work. All the time, I’d been on call with my friend, T. I’d stood there for more than 10 minutes, but it just happened that al the kekes available that morning tended to be going towards Polo, not Farin Gada. I was still on call with T when my oga’s call came in, so ended T’s call to find a quieter spot and answer my boss’ call. Less than a minute after I left the spot, the accident occurred right where I was standing.

I can’t begin to describe what happened exactly, but there were 2 kekes, a bus, and a motorcycle involved.

I heard the driver of one of the kekes jovially saying, “It’s not up to a week I painted this keke.”

Lesson: Look left, look right, and pray before crossing this road called Life.

If I am at the restaurant, it’s either I am eating eba and egusi, or I am not eating eba and egusi –because I just ate eba and egusi.

I love food.?It's that simple. My generation have a name for such kind of a person: foodie.

At the end of this year when I am writing down the list of things i have accomplished, I will not forget to add, "Ate the most number of times in the restaurant."

2024 will go down as the year that I have actively eaten in the restaurant. Sometimes it's at work, after a full day, courtesy of my office. Sometimes it's after work and I'm just too tired to cook. Other times, I am neither at work nor too tired to cook; I just want to eat out either for a special occasion or nay. On any of the three instances, 7 out of 10 times, I eat eba. Spoiler alert: I don't even know how to make it (and, one of my friends just said eba is neither made nor cooked: it is turned).

Maybe because I can’t turn it is the reason why I always go for eba, but each time I sit at a table, waiting for that plate of eba and egusi soup to arrive, it's like reading a review of Achebe's work written by Soyinka.

And each time I try to make eba, it always comes out as a wrap of mess. Or at least, the exact opposite of what I eat in restaurants

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Lesson: Sometimes you must not know how to do it; just get the one who does.

Teaching, darling, is still the noblest profession.?

This week, I relived the nostalgia of being a teacher.?

In the past few years, i have shuffled different teaching positions in different places. As a third-year university student, I taught in a secondary school while on break. When I moved to Jos, I taught in a private secondary school. During my NYSC year in Zuru, I taught in a military barracks. After my service year, I returned to teaching briefly. I've had my fair share of teacher-student relationship, but nothing prepared me for what I would encounter on Thursday.

On Wednesday and Thursday, I, alongside my team, was on assignment at 10 different schools in Jos South. At each of these schools, I met a different atmosphere, and rightly so because...they are 10 different schools. In one school, the students watched us pulling a few luggages, without even greeting. At another, they greeted, but watched us with the luggage. In another school, a group of students kicked a ball at us (mistakenly, I presume) without apologies. In another school, the students peeked from windows and whistled, "You bring beta for us?” At another school, the principal said, "If you want to do something in this school, you must find me something first." Then we were at GSS Bukuru.

In one word, those children were: well-raised.

Through the 8 schools we earlier visited, GSS Bukuru was the first school where the students welcomed us and collected the luggage from our hands. They were the first set of students to greet each of us when we introduced ourselves. They were the first set of students to escort us with our loads back to the car when we rounded off. All of these may mean nothing to some people, but for someone like me who grew up in a society where each of these was a moral virtue taught from childhood, it meant a lot to me. Especially in the abundance of many who don't do them.

A teacher's responsibility goes beyond making sure a student passes an exam with an A. It, in fact, goes beyond the walls of a school. As a teacher, you are responsible for the responsibility and/or irresponsibility of your students. If you take the credit for when they behave well, who do you expect to take the blame when they behave poorly?

#HappyTeachersDay to everyone making an impact!

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Lesson: There is one thing about morals: it never gets old.

Your friends are getting older!

This is meant to startle you, but I hope it doesn't.

Over the week I had the chance of catching up with my friends in both the professional and personal space.

First, I had the opportunity of catching up with Dorcas Bello and the amazing team at UnZipped Stories Africa . After a few months, it was great to finally meet and strategize for Unzipped Stories 5.0. Beyond just meeting after so many months, it was great to meet each other again: those old faces (and voices) as well as welcome new members.

The highlight of our meetings at Unzipped ?is the count down (usually from 3 or 5), and the final wishing everyone a good bye!

If you are someone who is enthusiastic about storytelling and multimedia journalism, Unzipped is, trust me, the place you'd love to be. Beyond just working with some of the finest brains in the game, you will belong to a team that cares for you beyond the work you do.

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Then, I caught up with my friends, Naph and T. Naph and T were my closest ideological friends back at the university, an adventurous trio who were just that: adventurous.

The thing with adulting, our communication grew cold over time. Even though we stayed in touch on an individual level, it had been quite some time since we came together as a trio. So, on Thursday, we scheduled a call, and when we did hold that call, so many things had changed!

Naph gotten in a romantic relationship. T was already in a romantic relationship right from university days. Kasim is...well, "...in the process."

We were all in different sectors professionally.

We were reading different books.

We had new favourite authors.

Our music tastes had...modified.

We had differing perspectives about a book announcement that came in mid-week.

Even the fact that we were friends had changed: we grew tighter.

Lesson: Pick that phone and schedule that meeting!

What does the Chimamanda book announcement say?

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Lesson: Every announcement screams something.

Until next week,

#K