We Are One

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Did I tell you that we are one?
Not Black, not White, just human
We see the beauty of nature
We feel the flicker of hope
The joys of family
The passion of love

Again I tell you that we are one
Not rich, not poor, just people 
We feel the dread of disease
The piercing of pain
The frustration of helplessness
The clutch of desperation 

Do you agree that we are one?
Not Christians, not Muslims, just believers
Whether we believe in Jesus,
or we believe in Mohammad,
or we believe in evolution,
or we believe in our gods

You need to know that we are one
Not man, not woman, just  survivors
Striving to succeed
Seeking utopia
Wanting to be seen, to be heard
Counting the days, months, and years

Let me show you that we are one
Not sinners, not saints, just mortals
Wanting to be right
Wanting to do right
Pushing our agendas
And wondering if we are right

So let's focus on our oneness
Setting aside these artificial divides
When it's all said and done
It's always a story of birth and death

Easy Motion Tourist by Leye Adenle: A Review

Leye Adenle’s novel titled after a ‘70s highlife hit song by ‘The Harbours Band’ unravels a plot of armed robbery, police shenanigans, ritual killings, and a thriving trade in human body parts while giving the reader a guided tour of Lagos. 

This spellbinding crime thriller narrates the story of a greenhorn British journalist, Guy Richards, who was sent to Nigeria to cover elections, and a ‘Street Samaritan’, Amaka. Guy finds the mutilated body of a young lady in a gutter on his first night in Lagos. The young lady was murdered and dumped beside ‘Ronnie’s’, a bar in the highbrow area of Victoria Island. He was arrested along with other onlookers at the crime scene and taken in for questioning.

Amaka is a young lady who has dedicated her life to ensuring that young women in the night business are safe as they go about their business. She shows up at the police station and rescues Guy from the clutches of ‘cell B’, Sergeant Hot-Temper, and Inspector Ibrahim. Together, Guy and Amaka form an alliance that helps to unravel the mysterious disappearances of some of the women Amaka had sworn to protect.

The author tells the story from multiple perspectives, giving the reader a clear insight into the various characters in the book, and the short chapters keep it fast-paced. Sufficient details on the secondary characters ensure the reader is engrossed. The use of funny aliases - Knockout, Catch-Fire, and Go Slow - douses the tension of the serious nature of the crimes in the book. The language is simple, and the prose flows with an ease that makes the book a much more enjoyable experience.

Easy Motion Tourist is a great book. It is easily the best Nigerian book I have read this year, and I look forward to reading the sequel and more of Adenle’s writings.

Rated 4/5

'Love Does Not Win Elections' by Ayisha Osori

A REVIEW
"Do not assess your chances based on how much people claim your opponents are disliked or [reviled]: love is not a currency at the ballot." (pg.239)

LOVE DOES NOT WIN ELECTIONS is a personal account of an aspirant on how to win elections in Nigeria. It is easy to read, humorous, and honest. The language is simple, with the use of beautiful metaphors that creates relatable imageries that engages the reader. 

In this book, the author places a floodlight in the murky waters of Nigerian politics. It gives an insight into some ingredients that may likely increase the chances of winning a primary election in Nigeria. Things like money, godfatherism, nepotism, and extreme begging are some of the oils that lubricate the Nigerian political engine.

After years of being a keen observer of the Nigerian political scene from her vantage point as the chief executive officer of the Nigerian Women's Trust Fund, a non-profit organisation focused on the increased representation of women in politics and decision making. Ayisha Osori decided to run for office as a member representing the AMAC/Bwari constituency of the Federal Capital Territory in the House of Representatives in 2015, on the platform of the People's Democratic Party (PDP).

The book details the foray of the writer into the Nigerian political arena. As she puts it, choosing a platform to run was difficult because "There is not much to distinguish between Nigeria's two main political parties.". She also faced with the unusual task of kneeling to beg delegates to vote and exchanging brown envelopes for favours.

In the end, Ms. Osori lost the primaries by a wide margin to the incumbent. Possibly because she could not get the endorsement of some party bigwigs, or mainly because there was an agreement amongst party leadership to return all incumbents. Either way, it benefits the political class that things should remain the way they are, there is less room for surprises.

On the other hand, the delegates and constituents, that should be more concerned about voting out non-performing representatives are more concerned with handouts given to them by politicians during electioneering periods. These actions leave one wondering about what the actual problem is. 

The problem is not a lack of information. Most people know what they expect from their elected officials as evidenced in the book when the writer met with the constituents. So, why do they continually listen to this money language spoken by politicians? 

The book is a must-read for anyone that wants to go into politics in Nigeria. It is also necessary for everyone that wants our democracy to thrive. Not only does it dish out tips for prospective aspirants and candidates, but it also forces the voting public to answer some difficult questions.

LOVE OR SOMETHING LIKE IT

 A friend of once asked me a question, Why is love so hard?

Today you see people who are head over heels in love, and two years down the line its all gone down the drain.

Here is my answer

It depends on what people refer to as love. For instance, I have loved my best friend for eighteen years, and in all these years, we have never had a fight where we did not speak to each.

I believe that when you say you love a person, that person becomes an extension of yourself. Who would willingly or knowingly do something to hurt themselves?

Let me give an example of what I mean. When someone has a favourite clothing item or a pet, it becomes apparent to the whole world that the person cherishes that particular item, because of the attention or preferential treatment that it gets when placed against others of its kind.

Now, someone would be quick to point out that a shirt or a pet is not capable of provoking one to anger the way an individual is capable of doing. To that I will say, no one expects you not to get angry and express yourself, but in expressing your anger, you do have to realize that this is someone you profess to love; armed with that knowledge, you can do no wrong.

Genuine love, in my opinion, is not abusive in any way (physical, verbal, or emotional). On the contrary, it seeks to affirm, encourage, and correct.

It is that simple! Most times we find ourselves saying love is not black and white, the truth is, it is! We are the ones who add the grey lines or encourage the grey lines. It is easy to differentiate between genuine love and imitation. We are just quick to accept imitations because we think the kind of love we know in our hearts that we deserve is too good to be true “an unattainable fantasy”.

It is necessary to understand what love is. If you do not know what something is, there is no way you can use or apply it correctly.

Love is a gift. It means that like any other gift, it should be given freely, not necessarily expecting in return, but as long as it is appreciated that should be enough. The truth is, only a few people are in relationships where love is reciprocal. It is a rarity to find two people who are in love with each other at the same time.

When you love someone without expectations, that kind of love can elicit loyalty and commitment on the part of the recipient or person who is loved, this in truth is what is attainable everywhere, and is often mistaken for the real deal.

And to the belief that a lot of people have that unrequited love can be very frustrating, I say it is not unrequited love that is the problem, but unmet expectations.

These are my thoughts on love, but then what do I know?

TWISTED

The meeting

I sat on the floor, in a corner of the room, naked in a pool of blood shivering, and sobbing those heart wrenching sobs that although inaudible almost threaten to take the sheer essence of your life. The only man I have ever loved, the only one that had ever truly loved me lay dead a few feet away from me a kitchen knife pierced to his side.

Anita still couldn't believe what had happened. Her Tunde was lying dead on the floor, it wasn't up to an hour ago that he told her he loved her, and that was the first time he had said it over their two year relationship. Her mind was still trying to process the information that this magnificent male specimen all 6 ft 5" of him was in love with her, and had just popped the question she had wished to hear from the first day she met him.

The day I met him, it was at the airport on my way from Port Harcourt to Abuja. I was sitting at the waiting lounge, my flight had been delayed for four hours, I was sitting down there angry and hungry with a book in my hand, but I could barely get past the first page. I closed my eyes and opened them at intervals impatiently awaiting the announcement of my flight. During one of the many intervals when I opened my eyes, I was looking directly at this Adonis. He was trying to get through security at the entrance of the waiting lounge. I stared at him from that moment till he got through the door, took a seat opposite me and concentrated on a newspaper. I stared at him until my flight was announced thirty minutes later. I was so sorry to leave.

 Anita couldn't stop thinking about him all through the fifty minutes flight. He wore a brown blazer casually thrown over a white shirt, tucked into blue jeans and held together with a brown belt; he finished off the look with a pair of lovely brown loafers. She loved a man who knew how to dress his body, and there was no doubt this one sure knew how. She could picture them together, no, scratch that! She’d pictured them together in every single position from the moment she saw him at the door, she saw them at the cinema, having lunch, and sharing bodily fluid. It was love at first sight. Love, that word again.

I was in love with the handsome stranger, and that gave me the creeps, the last time I was in love with someone we both ended up at the hospital, he in intensive care and me for psychoanalysis.

****

Anita had been seeing Peter for a while; he was kind, supportive and understanding. He was the kind of man every woman wished for, reliable. He was always there whenever she needed him, he told her he loved her, and she believed him. Everything he did was proof of his love.

He understood me from the first moment we met; he knew I had deep trust issues. I would snoop through his phone, e-mail, Facebook inbox messages; I would even stalk him on twitter. Everything usually checks out, there was never anything out of place. The first time he caught me going through his text messages, he was so angry that I had invaded his privacy; however, from then on, I had free rein on his ‘privacy’. I would ask questions that could only be as a result of snooping, and he would laugh, and say, 

“Snooping again, are we?”

It used to make her laugh when Peter called her “Sherlock Holmes”, he would tease her about wasting her detective skills on him, and she usually responded by saying, ‘Fortunately for me, you are as clean as a whistle’. So, it came to Anita as an utter shock one beautiful Saturday morning when Peter walked in looking as though someone had just died. He sat on her couch, she immediately rushed to his side, wondering what could be wrong.

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course baby, I know you love me’

What was wrong, where was he going with this. When he finally spoke up, I was shocked, to say the least. He told me he was getting married in two weeks, I believe he said some other things after that, which might have been an explanation or maybe not, the truth was all I heard was his getting married in two weeks.

Anita could still feel the goosebumps on her skin from Peter’s betrayal, how do you tell someone you love them and that you were getting married to someone else all in one breath? The events of the weeks that followed were still a blur in her mind. 

 They told me that I ran him over with my car the week before his wedding. I was taken into police custody for a few weeks when the police couldn't get any word out of me, I was taken to a specialist hospital for psychiatric evaluation.

****

Fifty minutes later, her flight had arrived Abuja and she was waiting for her luggage at the baggage claim area. The arrival of another plane was announced; she decided to pay attention to the entrance just in case “Idris Elba” was on that flight. 

He strode through the entrance as though he owned the entire airport, there was something about him, an aura of entitlement, it wasn't quite arrogance, but it was a confidence that almost seemed as if it was overstepping its boundaries. I realized that I could actually stare at him all day without getting tired.

Her luggage arrived but instead of leaving she decided she couldn't wait for fate to bring them together, she had to do something. She took a few short steps into the arrival lounge, took a seat and waited patiently.

For the third time that day, I watched him walking into a room, I took a quick glance at myself. I had on a dark blue tiny outfit that was a cross between a blouse and a dress; usually, because it was too long to be called a top and too short to be a proper dress. My tiny braids were held in a bun on top of my head. I was wearing very little jewellery; tiny studded earrings, a dress chain with a round pendant, it had a butterfly on one side, and the words “Quantum Science, hope for the children” on the other side. , the only make-up I had on my face was lip-gloss, my beautiful full legs were on display for all to see my feet were covered in sequined silver-coloured ballet flats. I am beautiful there was no doubt about it, I have been told severally that my smile could light up a room, I thought to myself that it wouldn't be a bad idea to test just how true that statement was.   

‘Excuse me, do you have a car waiting for you?’ he turned at the sound of my voice,

‘Erm, not really… you?’ that was said as an afterthought, he probably didn't want to seem rude by ending the conversation abruptly.

Anita responded that she also didn't have a car waiting for her; they decided to share a ride into town, as it happened they were both staying at Wuse II. They sat quietly throughout the drive, just as he was about to alight in front of a two-storey building on Aminu Kano crescent, he stretched out his hands for a handshake,

‘The name is Tunde Ayoola, sorry I wasn't such a good company, I have a lot on my mind. May I have your mobile no?’

‘Anita Esaro, and you weren't a bad company, I loved the silence.’ They exchanged numbers; by the time the cab got to her street, there was a satisfied smirk on her face.

Gold-Digger: A Role Reversal

The word gold-digger used to have a female picture beside it, in my mind’s eye, but the types of men I have met in recent times are determined to change that mistaken impression. I can’t say there is a new trend in town because I am sure it has been there all along without my notice but now, I’m particularly concerned because it seems I have been marked.

                     ****

Before now it was taken for granted that, in a relationship between a man and a woman, the man bears the financial responsibility, this is no longer the case. In the 21st century, women have come a long way from where they used to be, they are no longer the shy little creatures whose only purpose is to marry a good man, cook his meals and raise his kids. Nowadays, added to the natural female desire of raising a family, more women are earning their own money, making a name for themselves in their chosen career paths and actually proving that “what a man can do a woman can also do”.

Given the century and the effort being put into gender equality, it is not surprising to see more women being the ‘breadwinner’ of the family or financial source of a relationship. There is nothing wrong with this arrangement as long as they are both in agreement with it. The problem instead arises, when all a man wants from a relationship is financial gain.

This kind of man will actively seek out unsuspecting young ladies who are sympathetic, vulnerable, or are in one form of emotional need or the other; he would provide temporary support by showering fake love in the hope of getting to his original goal which is to relieve her of as much money as he can.

If you have the misfortune of meeting this type of man, consider yourself a Micro-Finance Bank or a mobile ATM. Depending on how much of a cad he is, you go from buying ‘recharge card’, fueling the car, paying rent, to giving monthly allowance.

I have this friend who actually went the whole nine yards, the ‘fiance’ (it’s all part of the grand scheme, any good woman would like to stand by her man no matter what, especially when a gold ring is involved.) moved into her apartment with his sister, she was feeding them, fueling his car and giving him an allowance.

My cousin met this man who wanted a division of labour, he would pay the rent, and she would furnish the apartment.

I have met a couple of these mercenary bachelors; there was one, who wanted me to pay half the rent of his apartment; after all, that was going to be our matrimonial home. Psst!

There is a lot of material to draw from; personal and other people’s experiences, I could go on forever if I wanted, but I am just going to stop here.

Most of these men are good when it comes to physical intimacy, they might seem particularly attentive, and hopelessly in love to the untrained eye, don’t be deceived that is just a hustle. He will be there for you as long as you have money when the money is gone, he will be gone so fast you won't know what hit you.

In truth, the economy is so hard that people are trying whatever schemes they can in order to survive. A number of young men think that the economy is not quite as hard on women as it is on men, I guess that’s how they came up with the grand scheme of professing love in exchange for money.

                                                                        ****

If you want to go into a particular line of business, you need to learn the ropes to be successful at it. Anyone who looks at me and marks me for his victim clearly hasn't learnt his art properly, aside from the terribly obvious fact that I have no gold; I am not that naive or vulnerable.

*Use the comment box, tell me what you think is responsible for the rise of male gold diggers.*

Lipstick Jungle: Why Women Hate Each Other

In April, 41-year-old British journalist Samantha Brick wrote in an essay published in the Daily Mail (U.K.) that 'There are downsides to looking this pretty: Why women hate me for being beautiful’

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2124246/Samantha-Brick-downsides-looking-pretty-Why-women-hate-beautiful.html#ixzz2EFzhBz2i

At the time of writing this post, that essay had about 5725 online comments most of which were from women blasting Brink for even considering herself beautiful, one comment goes “I am sorry, but this woman is not even remotely attractive, at least by the standards of New York City….”, others were more supportive "Samantha was brave to make this observation in public ... I hope that she doesn't take the nasty comments to heart."

We won’t argue the validity of Brink’s claims to being beautiful; the majority is probably right on that one, she isn't that pretty that’s up there in the air, “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder” or as in this case, in the eyes of the holder, rather let us focus on why women hate each other.

Women are extremely competitive, and quite honestly quick to judge each other. While there may be a need to argue that women do not hate each other, there is indeed jealousy which gives merit to the observation.

Let’s be honest, no girl genuinely likes that one girl that goes all out to get perfectly dolled up for movie at the cinema with the girls, when the agreement is a dress-down she shows up, and the rest are probably thinking in their minds how she wants to steal all the shine, and most times she’d get grief for it, and if they can’t say it to her face then be sure they’ll gossip about it behind her back to no end.

Women are also not terribly fond of women who are charming, smile a lot, and are exceptionally friendly only when the opposite sex is around, you’d certainly be vvvbranded.                                                                                 

Women do not like women are best friends with their partners; most times there is drama, naming calling and not forgetting the insecurities.

Women do not like women who act and say they are pretty all the time, two things: on the one hand, if you are exceptionally pretty by all standards, you are considered shallow for making too much of your looks (people are dying every day due to hunger, and you can’t get beyond how pretty you are?), on the other hand, if you are just “OK” and you keep going on about your supposed beauty you will be labeled.

Women do not like women who consider themselves better than others for whatever reason; education, wealth, intellect, marital status etc, and sometimes women dislike each for no other reason than envy; for the simple reason that they see in the other the remarkably accomplished woman which they would like to be.

One article on the same subject puts it this way “In a society that has created this Utopian existence where women can 'have it all', brains, looks, a career, a man and children there is unavoidably going to be competition and a degree of jealousy towards women who are seemingly swimming a little better against the tide of obstacles that stop women from achieving this existence. We see other women not only as a threat to the harmony of our own lives, but as mentioned earlier, as a reminder of skills and talents that we do not possess ourselves.”

*Do you agree that women hate on each other? Agree or disagree use the comment box share your views*

Why Do Women Cheat?: One Woman's Story

“The theory that adultery is "natural" for men, fulfilling their Darwinian need to spread their seed, has been around a long time” –Women Health, Web MD.

Why men cheat is no longer news I think most people have come to the conclusion that men cheat as a sport, and society is trying to in one way or another shove it down our throats that if it’s a man then it’s not quite as awful, and that’s why they come up with useless sayings that almost seem like a pat on the back “he is a man now”, “men will always be men”, “come on darling, that shouldn't surprise you that’s what men do they cheat!”

On my blog rounds yesterday I visited www.thenakedconvos.com and the topic of discussion was "The General & The Mistress: why do women cheat?” I settled in to enjoy myself, but before doing that I told a couple of my friends who are also lovers of TNC that we were in for a treat because TNC is known for its no holds barred approach, moreover, it should be intriguing to get an insight on why women cheat.

If you know anything about blogs the "comment" session is almost as informed as the post itself; there you get diverse views and sometimes a fictitious post develops a real human face, for this particular post, the comments ranged from the lack of attention and care to revenge, to fun etc. I was still going through the comments when I got a ping from one of the friends’ I had directed to the day's post, she told she had dropped her confession in the comment section, she gave the name she used for the comment, and I was amazed at her story.

“If I say he cheated on me with a neighbor will dat suffice? ud probably say no cos I cried n forgave him and accepted it like it was part of my six years 2 months old marriage. did they know each other b4? Cos we moved in here 3 months b4 d marriage.yet their union was stronger Dan China's economy! so I'll let dat pass to d fact dat he came back late and beat me if I ever complained. d fact dat I was pregnant didn't matter afterall "I wasn't carrying Jesus! den he was Transferred 2 a state 3hrs away! He gladly left me n my 1 year old daughter.N visited once a month which later became once in 3 months.we made luv @ most 4 times a year.did I mention I married @ 19?so at 21 I was almost getting Non! I made efforts n I wondered cos I was endowed n good in bed!living like dis 4 over six years? naa, By the 3rd year I cracked n started getting some .afterall ppl wanted me everywhere I went!after 2 attempts I settled for an angel! the best n most handsome caring man in d whole world. I now know wat love is .dis year I moved in with my hubby who was now envious of d fact dat I don't have his time anymore.I did dat 4 my daughter buh it still isn't working BW us d fighting n quarreling.so I have made up my mind 2 get a divorce.hez 20yrs older Dan me n he can sort himself out cos he prefers his age grade!there u have it!”

After reading this, I immediately sent her a ping, all I could say was “ babe you are a strong woman”, that was the first thing my mind could come up with, the next thing I asked was if I could share her story and she said, “yes if you need more details I will tell you” then she went ahead to tell me of a time when he brought his girlfriend to the house, and after an incident asked her to apologize to the girlfriend and after she had apologized his girlfriend’s friend responded “you are lucky I am in a good mood I would have beat you up”. I usually do not curse, but my only response was “What the F***”.

I realize that most women are “saints” that would never dream, think or talk of cheating their partners. But there are a few that do cheat and may have a compelling reason for doing so, please let us share these experiences.

If you have any advice that will help my friend, do not hesitate to use the comment box.