Crossing over...

...So it's official! I have crossed over. I can't believe that I have joined the club of women (i.e of well-meaning aunties) who ask single relatives the dreaded question - 'So any wedding bells?' Aarrgghhhh!

I used to hate that soooooo much! I found it embarassing, and was armed with so many excuses, 'Aunty, when God brings the man, I will marry, Ah - It's better to married well than married quickly, etc. The excuses were valid and true at the time, but why do I appear to have forgotten so quickly, the pain and embarassment that often follows when asked that question?

In my defense, I mean well. There are 2 reasons why I ask them the question.

Firstly, I know they want to be married, and I've been praying for them for quite a while, hence I am eager to see how God would answer each prayer. Secondly, but more selfishly, I love weddings! There is nothing like a good wedding to foster good family relationship and have some fun. In fact, part of the fun is making trips to Liverpool street shopping for the latest fabric to sew my iro and buba.

But really, I find the whole issue of singles getting married, becoming a sore topic these days. It appears as though good men especially are hard to find, or when the good ones are found they take their time to pop the question. When you ask the single males they give you excuses like:

1. I want to settle down
2. I want to buy a car
3. I want to buy a house
4. I want a good job
5. I am still young (laugh , some of them are in their 30's)
6. I haven't found the right person (Reasonable enough)
7. I am not ready yet (This is even after dating a girl for 3-4 years)

Please how long does it take a young man to know that he likes a girl and want to settle down? I have been married for 8 years now, and I prayed that my husband would not be a time-waster. Thank God, He answered my prayer, 'cos my husband proposed after 1 month of dating, informing me of his intentions by the 2nd date. We were married 6 months later and have 2 wonderful children.

Comments would be most welcome from single women who are in this situation (of waiting for your partner to propose) and single men esp, who are having/ or had a dilemma choosing who to marry. Maybe you could help women understand why you take your time in popping that all important question.

On a lighter note, I can gladly announce that 2 of these relatives are getting married in July & August. So here's to you guys... Happy nuptials andhappy married life.

Trafalgar Square gone green

Be forewarned - this is a rant!!!

So it was someone's bright idea to lay turf on Trafalgar Square .

I had quite a shock coming down the steps at lunchtime, walking back to my office, and saw this huge expanse of green grass in the middle of the square with tons of people fighting for every inch of space to sit on it.

It looked weird . Definitely different. I didn't like it.

I also had 2 issues:-

All the tourists/office workers had come out en masse to sit on every inch of the turf, and it just looked plain ridiculous, 'cos the grass was wet!!!!! They were struggling to put carrier bags, jackets etc down . One put her foot under her bottom, so the seat of her pants won't get wet. I mean come on people!!!


2nd issue is the grass is only going to be there for 2 days as part of 'Visit London's' aim to promote London as a green, diverse capital. To pacify climate change activitists, the grass would be recycled to re-turf Bishops park, the carbon emissions needed to do this would be offset (this one confuse me O), and they made sure the grass was dug from a sustainable vale.

I mean, what a waste of money. People are looking for food to eat, water to drink, houses to live in and this! Na wa! If these people have too much money, they should give me O, as I know what to do with it.

My rant is ended!!!

Missing home Part 1

So as I get older, I am beginning to experience pangs (or is it twinges) of nostalgia for Nigeria. I must admit that all of a sudden, my memories of Nigeria are all good ones, and the not-so-good memories have suddenly become plain funny and amusing as time goes by. Even the cane-lashings received in school, the bullying, the cries of ‘panla’ (which means a piece of dried cod), ‘chewing stick’, ‘broom stick’, ‘shawa’ (dried fish) etc which assailed my ears atimes when I walked along the streets, which were at the time quite painful, have now become amusing tales to recount for fun.

I find myself devouring ‘naija’ home movies at a rapid rate, and trying to get a hold of anything that is remotely related to Nigeria. I recently attended the premiere of Amazing Grace, the Nigerian version of the movie which tol dthe story of slavery from a Nigerian slaves' perspective directed by Jeta Amata, and I was so pleased to be surrounded by my people, and to be taken back to th esights and sounds of Calabar as I sat and watched the movie.

To satisfy myself from time to time, I visit Dalston market and imagine. I pretend that it is not cold, and I am not wearing a coat while pulling my shopping trolley (oh my goodness!!), which btw has become the most convenient way to avoid making frequent needless trips to the car with all my purchases (See example below).

For a long time vanity battled with practicality as I fought the need to buy one. The only other people who carried these trolleys were elderly grandmas, I thought to myself, but I eventually caved in. Now I find that they view me as a kindred spirit, smiling at me as I walk past them with my trolley. All of a sudden I feel wise in an 'elderly' kind of way.

Anyway, when I get to Dalston I visit all the typical Nigerian shops. If you close your eyes, you could be at Alaba market. The way produce is stacked up in a somewhat disorderly fashion warms my heart. I see shelves laden with Nigerian Bournvita & Milo mixed in with bottles of palm oil, and next to it are bags of ‘iru’ or ‘ogiri’. The only difference is that the foods are packaged in some form. Gari is poured into clear bags with prices on them, Crayfish is packaged in the same way. I love everything about it the smells, the sounds.

There is a certain man I love to see. He is Caucasian and he sells ‘lace’. The kind of fabric worn by us Nigerians at parties. A lot of Nigerians flock to him, ‘cos his prices are reasonable. Much cheaper than you would get at Liverpool street market in London. I love seeing the man and I wonder about him sometimes. What would make a man sell a product typically purchased by people of a different culture? He doesn’t appear to be doing it for the money (‘cos the prices are so reasonable), he almost appears to do it just to interact with Nigerians.

I have been at this point before though, missing Nigeria so much, that is until I visited Lagos in October 2005. Every form of nostalgia was squashed out of me by my experience there that I ran back to ‘Diaspora’ with my tail between my legs vowing not to go back for a long time. That story in Part 2… Soon come!!

A Nigerian Recites Psalm 23

Many of you might have seen this before, but I received it in my inbox today and it made me laugh. For non-nigerians it is written in broken English so might not be easy to understand.

The Lord Na my shepherd, I dey kampe.
E make me Sidon for where betta dey flow and come put me next to
stream make mai bodi thermacool.
E panel beat mai soul come spray am white, come dey lead me dey go
through express road of righteousness sake of Hin name.
Walahi !, if I waka pass where arm robber, 419 and juju people boku,
come even join okada reach valley of the shadow of death sef, mai bodi
dey
inside cloth.
Your rod and staff nko? Na so dem dey like back bone dey comfort me.
You don prepare Egusi, Efo and Pounded yam make I chop. All mai
enemies dey look waa waa. You rub me for head wit Vaseline intensive
lotion. Mai cup Na River Niger wey overflow hin bank.
True true, betta life and mercy go gum mai back till I quench. And
man pikin go tanda for God house from lai lai to lai lai.

Women are from Venus...

We women are known to identify ourselves in relation to someone else. We are relationship-minded. For example, if you asked us the question, 'Who are you?', we'd probably answer in the following terms -

• I am Eze's mum
  I am Joe blogg's wife
  I am Peter's sister

And so on...

Looking at the blog titles of some females, you can see this happening also e.g. yummy mummy, naijamommy, naija wife etc. the blokes however are more likely to use their names or adjectives e.g. fineboy, toksie, gbegborun of lagos etc.

Women's natural bent is to nurture and thrive in relationships. We just have that gift. It is God-given. A lot of us have heard the song 'Sweet Mother'. One of the characteristics of a woman is to be sacrificial. Giving up time, effort, money to make others happy.

There needs to be a balance however. In our giving, we should also be able to find our own identity. Who are you? What do you like doing? Find some adjectives about yourself. Are you beautiful (both on the inside and outside)? And please don't compare yourself to society's definition of beauty. You can be slim, chubby, fair, dark, short or tall. Are you honest, brave, kind, gentle, loving? Do you love reading, music, mountain climbing, abseiling or scuba diving? Are you organised, a good leader, or a wonderful cook? Are you calm, always encouraging, cheerful, peaceful? What is your purpose on earth? What has God put you here on the earth for?
Your natural gifts and talents would usually point you to your purpose in life. And I tell you that until you find this out and start acting on it, you would never be fulfilled. There would always be that void, the rumblings, and the slight discomfort, which you can't quite put your finger on. This is intended to drive you to search for this purpose.

Some people are lucky enough to find it early, some have had parents who have helped them excel in their gifts, others have stumbled across it, a lot more are still searching. I dare to suggest you cannot find this purpose until you hook up with your creator - God (unless you are of the Scientology sect, who believes that we are descended from aliens). Go to Him; ask Him what you are here for. I promise you not too long after that (if your search is genuine), you'll find it! I can say this because it happened to me. That story for another time.

Eze goes to school...

Yippeee! So my son (his name is not Eze by the way), has got a place to start school. Not our first choice, but a good school nonetheless, with a very good OFSTED report.

I had (and still have) a dilemma on which school I really wanted for my son. First choice was a predominantly 'white' church school (pupils are 1% black), outstanding education and extra-curricular activities and have been so for years, but with rumblings of rumours of inherent racism (My son already attends the nursery class here by the way). My other choice was an equally great school which has worked its way from the ranks, is very multicultural, but for me lacks that orderliness about it. Through this disorderliness though, you can see genuine hearts that want to work hard to make the school a great place to be at.

In any case, the choice has been made (or made for me by the council) as in September I join the school run, while trying to hold down a full-time job. This feels like a huge milestone for me as this is my first child, so everything with him is kinda experimental. I have got my rose-coloured glasses on and envision 'real' days off from work, at least for 7 hours, where I can drop him off at school, and have to deal with only one child. The younger child is off to playgroup in September for 2.5 hours each day, so at least for now I am guaranteed some me time. Roll on 2009 when she starts school.

Any mums out there who can fill me on the realities of a child's school years and bring me back down to earth, should feel free to comment here. At the back of my mind are issues like having to deal with 'cruel' children or maybe it would be my child who would be cruel, bullying, peer pressure, teachers who don't pay attention to your child etc....

I welcome your comments.

A fine line between life and death?

On Thursday morning, I was going home after a hard day at work. I made my way to the Tube station nearest to me and got through the first part of my journey okay. Everything was running along smoothly as usual – the normal beeline for the last few seats on the carriage (if you’re lucky), albeit discreetly with an ‘I don’t care attitude’ that I consider is necessary to be adopted just in case someone else beats you to it. The train chugged along through the first few stations and then we ground to a halt for quite a while. The driver’s voice finally came on over the speakers, announcing that the train would be held at the platform for quite a while due to an incident at Green Park station. The incident happened to be described as ‘person under train’. This means that someone had probably committed suicide and jumped in front of the train, or some mental person had pushed the individual. In any case, the person is pretty unlikely to have survived.

If this person had committed suicide, what could have pushed an individual to be so depressed in order to do this? Living in a society that appears to have most things going for it, everything works relatively efficiently (I might be wrong), people who are willing to work are guaranteed a minimum wage of sorts, so can take care of themselves. Opportunities are bountiful here I think, so why??? I wish there were someone who could help me understand this.

Medical professionals lead us to understand that depression is a true illness that can’t be helped. It is an ailment that needs ‘treatment’. If there are any medical minds out there, please throw some more light on this issue.

As a Christian, the only explanation I can give for this is deception fed to human beings (created in the image and likeness of God) from a true enemy called the devil. There is a ‘spiritual’ tone to this that for me cannot be explained away. What makes one individual adopt the ‘where there is life, there is hope’ approach, while another adopts the ‘woe is me’ stance? What thoughts run through each mind?
IMHO, our thoughts shape us as individuals, a thought becomes a seed that eventually becomes a desire, and then a real action. Moral of the story for me is – I have to watch and control my thoughts, because what I think and eventually believe strongly enough to say would shape my life.

I welcome any comments on this…What do you think?