Tag Archives: Education

The boy in the rain

You could see the joy. Visible. The happiness. The eagerness to get to school on his face. Roughly 7. Maybe 8 years old. Riding his bicycle. Maybe it is a new one. Who knows? Carefully. Without worry. For him life is beautiful. It is Monday. A new week, new day, back at school. As he carefully went over the speed bumps by the toll gate. Out. Back on the express way. Staying clear of cars and buses. It seemed all is well in his world. Except he is riding to school. In the rain. With no safety gear. No rain coat. No guardian or parent to accompany him to school. In his school uniform, white socks and brown sandals. Back pack properly strapped. He journeyed on.

In the rain. My heart cut. Here is a young boy. Dangers all around. Yet he seemed oblivious to all. Trying to make his way to school. Here is a young boy. Whose parents might have saved to get him a bicycle and pay his fees. Here is a young boy who would become a man soon. A future leader (as we like to say). As I drove on in traffic watching this boy, keeping so far from cars, my heart cut. I couldn’t help but think of the many dangers he faces everyday getting to school. Cars, buses, okadas, soliders and policemen who seem not to know you turn your gun face down, Julius Berger and the Hitech trailers. Even worse, on days like this… the rain. The fact that in a bid to get an education, this young boy stood the risk of coming down with a cold. Maybe pneumonia.

I thought about a lot of things. Poverty in our land. The uncertainties. Crisis. I thought about my children. The kind of life I want them to live. Do I want them to live in Nigeria I wondered. I thought about the future. I am scared. Which way Nigeria I asked.

I thought about my childhood. The privileged life. Been dropped and picked up from school every day among others. Here was a boy (and many many many others) who might never experience that kind of life. The good life we call it. I felt sad.

More than 12 hours later, I still remember this little boy. Teary eyed, I watched on till he got out of sight, a boy who despite the challenges, he was all so eager to get to school; Looking on cheerfully as he rode. Not gonna forget him in a hurry. Tears still well up even as I type. Pity, sadness and joy. Sadness at what can befall this dude at anytime. I remember the Chibok girls. Sorrow at the kind of pain and challenges he has to live through at this age. Joy at the fact that he wants to get educated. You should see his eyes. Carefree and definitely happy to be on his way to school.

The boy in the pink checkered shirt and green shorts.

I heard this song some weeks back and just never paid attention to it. Till I heard it again at TT & BT’s wedding on Saturday. Somebody help me. It has been on replay since Saturday. Number 1 jam at the moment. Shout out to TT & BT (TT when you get to read this – I know you would). Lovely gown you wore. I am a sucker for simple yet elegant wedding gowns. *le sigh*. And thanks for giving me my new jam. God bless your union.

Couldn’t find the official video. I guess this would do

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Can you move in with your wife?

I had this interesting conversation with a driver at work yesterday. We were at our store and then saw some furniture a woman brought. He then started gisting me about how big her house was, she was single and all. And how he hopes she finds a man, but that men won’t want a made wife. So I asked him if he were a man, would he marry her and move in (because I didn’t see how she would wanna move out of her house, but then what do  I know?). His reply shocked me. He said he would move. I asked again (here is an uneducated man) if his wife built a house or bought a house, would he move in with her and he replied in the affirmative. Hmmmm I thought. I then asked why. He said (now I am paraphrasing because this conversation was in Yoruba) he believes in a relationship/marriage, one of both parties would be richer than the other. If his wife was rich enough to buy/build a house,why shouldn’t he move in with her. He felt if he didn’t it meant he wasn’t happy for her and didn’t want her progress. I was just there with my mouth opened. He said as long as he still had her respect and she wasn’t rubbing it into his nose. He said he would let even his parents and the children know it was his wife’s/their mother’s house. The conversation had me thinking “how many men (African men especially) think like this?”. How many women would own houses and still be submissive and show respect to their husbands.

We hear stories on radio and TV about such issues. My wife built a house she didn’t tell me. She has some money somewhere I didn’t know about. And how it has led to the end of relationships and marriages.

I remember a conversation after house fellowship some weeks back. Well when you attend a fellowship where everybody else is married and you and another lady are the only singles, you get to hear a lot of marriage gists. So this man was talking about how in his OWN house, he felt the cook, house help, drivers and other helps didn’t respect him because they felt he wasn’t the one paying their salaries. Madam collected the money from him and distributed. The helps didn’t know that. So one month, he decided to show them who the man of the house was and withheld salaries for 2 weeks. Well, the end of the story is that they all started to comport themselves. Why did I add this story sef? I dunno.

When did people start calling their fiance/fiancee partners? This young man came to the showroom one day and kept talking about how he needed his partner’s approval before buying anything and all. And as he kept saying partner, I kept thinking “is he gay” or is he co-habiting? I had to ask who this partner was and discovered he was engaged. *smh*.

I said my hair was red right? Sorry, I am colour blind. Tis wine.

IMG-20130305-03420 Lagos-20130305-03422 Lagos-20130304-03419

Some people say it is long. I beg to differ. Shoulder length isn’t long. Well that might be my fault sha. Years of chopping just to make it grow and remove split ends have done “damage” to the length. As per last picture, you see where my issue is now. I need that front to GROW. Help a sister.

Have a great weekend people.

Gracias.

What’s good yo????

It has been a while I have logged in here. E ma binu (I am sorry). Trying to sort myself out as per job ish and all. Plus I also want my 100th post to coincide with this blog’s 2nd anniversary and as I am 2 posts shy of that, I gas watch how often I log in. Started “work” at an interior design company some 3 minutes from home on Monday. Well more like having a “somewhere to go to pending when you get a job” place. Grateful for elder sisters and brothers you can count on. The owner (I would call her and her husband my egbons) just called me up one morning to ask if I didn’t mind doing an internship till I get a job. Could I refuse? No. And am loving every bit.

Which brings me to the main reason for this post. Every wondered why recruiters/interviewers get upset and all during interviews? Well I had first hand experience yesterday. We are recruiting for a client service officer. Four ladies showed up yesterday for their interviews. Lady 1 cannot express herself, kept looking down. She was born in 1991. Lady 2, came in, was asked questions and she started laughing. Like seriously? We had to ask her to stop laughing. Then she started smiling. Ok, you say you have worked as a secretary and receptionist. How would the skills you got apply in this case. Madam is still smiling. Ok let us help her a bit. As a secretary, you interacted with people yeah? With the people skills you got, how would it help in this case? She still couldn’t answer. For like 10 minutes. Do you know what we do here? No answer. We had to ask her to leave. She was born in 1977. Lady 3 came in, immediately asked what the company was about, locations and some quick questions before her interview began. Fair enough. And lady 4? Forgot her CV at home. By then, I was definitely done. I mentioned the years of birth of the first 2 ladies yeah. Got me thinking. Is it safe to say that education in Nigeria started going down since the late 1970s?

Today, I was on the other side of the divide. I went for a test. It was a very laughable but serious experience. 3 out of 7 of us could construct sentences properly. In fact one of the others asked me “can you cut your eraser for me?” I had a blank stare at first. The last time I heard someone put cut and eraser especially with that accent was 10 years ago. You know those GCE exams where we were thrown to some village to write your papers surrounded by Ibadan gehs? Or when the same lady said (after 50 minutes) “I don’t know the time has gone”.

I am sorry but I had this disgusted look when I saw the people I was writing the test with. I felt bad though. That was all shades of wrong but I couldn’t help it. If you are applying for a post as an analyst and you can’t speak properly…. I shouldn’t have I know. After all the test was more of GMAT and you don’t need to speak Queen’s English to answer the Mathematics, Data Sufficiency and Logical reasoning bits. And I wonder at times what people read when they get mails. A mail is sent out to you asking you to bring your WAEC certificate right? You claim you don’t have a WAEC certificate so you bring your NECO certificate. However, the mail specified WAEC and you didn’t bother contacting the person who sent you the mail informing him/her that you had no WAEC certificate? Do we bother paying attention to things? Even the little things? Plus I don’t believe the “I don’t have a WAEC certificate story”. I believe if you did Secondary School in Nigeria, it is compulsory you write WAEC right? So how come you don’t have a WAEC certificate? Maybe it is just me sha.

In other news, I am no longer engaged neither am I married yet. Go figure. Not kissing, not telling. Case closed. Lips sealed. Loools. Don’t ask, won’t say.

I wonder why guys think once they see a female she has no idea how to operate a system nonetheless any other gadget. I was at the office yesterday and I ask the guy with the only system with internet connectivity if I could use the PC. Dude decides to take me through how to send a mail. Yes you heard me. A MAIL. How to use webmail o. I was almost going to tell him “dude, aint nobody got time for that. I used webmail for 3 freaking years and would bloody teach you how to use a PC cause you don’t”. Today nko, I wanted to turn off the central speaker and all and he starts telling me “this is how you turn off an ipod”. Emi? Proud owner of an ipod, iphone and ipad. Ish… Yes I got Apple bragging rights. Next is a mac book. Am badt like that.

Stumbled on these pictures on instagram.

photo (2) photo

Uhmmm if the colour pictures is true (which is though), I should have come as a guy. I no sabi all the tangerine and royal purple and all those colours you women say. Green is green. Blue is blue. I remember buying a shoe online. The colour? Petrol blue. Got me interested and decided to buy. When the shoe came, it was every shade of dark green. Nothing blue in it at all. *smh*. Or buying similar shades of shoes from three different stores. It was called stone in Dorothy Perkins, nude in Next and some other funny name in Newlook.

Anything till further notice in this post is my alter ego talking. Being single is wack ba? Ehn if you know who you want to be with, go and be with him/her na. Is it that hard? If you are a guy and and you like a babe, ask the geh na? Hian. Stop whining. Be a man. And if you are the babe, ask him out. Kapish. Ok. alter ego has logged out.

Finally. Whew you say ba? Na you sabi. Those who know me, know I love parties. Or better still, I love organizing parties. Especially weddings and all the parties before weddings. So you find me tweeting and liking anything that has to do weddings. My alter ego also plans weddings. Well, of all the pre wedding ish, I love bridal showers most and I have helped organize a couple and would def be organizing more. I really believe every woman deserves to have a lovely bridal shower. Like seriously beautiful shower. Like Ike (showerella) would say, “life is too short for boring parties”. So hopefully, my next post would be an article on showerella. Do yourself (and me) a favour and visit http://www.showerella.com, follow showerella on twitter, be friends on facebook (abi na like?), find her on pinterest and promote my sister’s business. By the way, my alter ego also has a bridal shower company where we stock party favours and help you organize your party. So bridesmaids, friends, maids of honour, sisters, sisters-in-law (you all know yourselves jo), contact my alter ego.

Ok final final, last one, please na. Last one. I have found someone with a “worse” surname. Worse in quotes o. I have a last name which is very feminine. So when people ask my name, I get questions like “which one is the name, which one is the surname”? Or they just shorten my surname assuming that is my first name. Well I met a Damola Detola (I sincerely hope she doesn’t see this because me I would deny). Figure out which is the first name and which is the last.

Sidenote: make una help me beg SingleNigerianMan to be my bff jare. He said he can’t be my bff. He doesn’t do fine gehs. Please help me tell him I AM NOT FINE na.

Tada