Stands and stages 


When you “kicked” yourself out of the department as one of your friends put it, losing your last election, you felt like moving on to greater challenges. Talking about the election, you always knew you would lose, but you didn’t feel like stepping down because you loathe hearing people stepping down, it makes them look lik they were cowards, like they were unfocused, goalless and clueless, I mean, why would you declare your intentions for a position, gather ardent supporters only to step down later, its like waking up early to fetch clean water, yet going to the well with a dust basket instead of a bucket.


 Your default setting is adventure. You love anything intellectually adventurous and this drive of yours led you to tax club. You have always admired law students from afar thanks to their versatility, ubiquity and all-encompassing relevance in the world of literacy so joining one of their clubs, the tax clubs seemed the right direction. 

You paid for the registration form with the last cash in your account, did your interview after  writing a professional exams, but despite those constraints, you scaled through.

It’s tax club biggest event in the calendar year, the tax expo. Members have been shared into groups to work on scintillating project topics and everyone is working profusely, everyone except your group.Your group has been tagged the most unserious group, indeed you were. While other groups had almost finished their slides, you still didn’t have a coherent document not to talk of slides. It was a group presentation that was competitive, the stakes were high, the fame, the audience, the calibre of speakers, the glory. You started rehearsing for the semi-finals barely 24 hours before. On the semi-finals, you went on a hundred kilometres mandatory trip to a king’s birthday, the owa-obokun of ilesa land.(an indelible experience) and came back few minutes before the event, panting like Anthony Joshua after His knockout punch. The judge said you had an amazing presentation, yet he enunciated the only flaw, pronouncing “taxify” as “taxifier”, you came second and made it to the finals.


The stage was set, more than a thousand eyes shot gaze at your face, each sending myriad of messages. Among these eyes included that of tax partners from the big four, PWC,KPMG,Delloite and EY, the chairman of the Osun state FIRS amidst other dignitaries. You can’t flop, you had to be sterling, flawless and ……you were. The audience gave you a standing ovation with a thunderous applause, and your name changed from the unprepared team, to the winning team.

You had thought it was over, you had basked in the aura of being the winning team, delivering an electric presentation that got tax professionals attention, the echoes of “congratulations” playing mellifluous cadence on your eardrums,those were satisfactory enough, but God wasn’t done with you yet.. Your heart missed a beat when you discovered that you had missed your president’s call, something was up, something “light”.

 “….Due to the effort put into the project presentation, Taxaide found it dim fit to reward the presenters with an internship…..” your heartbeat increased rapidly, then stopped as your frowning face erupted with smiles, it was another milestone of achievement.


 You are a man now, you are learning that leadership is responsibility, that maturity comes with sacrifice and life is beyond transient pleasures that leads to lasting pains, that sometimes love requires delaying gratification and putting others interest ahead of yours. You are learning team work, tenacity and pertinacity , knowing that when the going gets tough, only the tough gets going. You don’t have a car yet neither do you have a hundred thousand account in your account,but you are improving daily, and that’s all that matters.

P:S- I am available to speak at your events,I possess captivating communication skills as well as in-depth knowledge over a lot of topics,ranging from social media marketing and social media management to branding and other related topics.


Phases and Faces.



Let me start by borrowing my friend’s words, there are some things we feel we should apologise for, like going home empty handed from school when your younger brother,and your mum,your only parent awaits your arrival expectantly, like breaking one promise a thousand times, like forgetting that your blog has followers and you have fans that won’t let you rest, so I apologise for neglecting this world of blogging. Before I opened a blog, I used to pester my friends who owned a blog but didn’t post regularly, I think I now know how they feel. The truth is Life is a roller-coaster, a frantic race where people wear smiles beneath a frowning face and hide a heinous heart in an hearty laughter, these reasons are why I have been away.

 Sometimes, you don’t know what will happen next, you just suddenly find yourself in the middle of something, that was how I felt three weeks ago when I received a mail carrying titillating tidings ;

“Get ready for a life-time experience, your team has made it to the semi-finals of Unilever Africa Idea trophy…”. 

The rest of the story are fruitful fragments of exhilarating experiences that would be told with joy, like eating three course meal three times a day, like hanging out with the Ghanaians, like selling lipton at shoprite, like spending Six thousand naira on a meal at one sitting, like waking up in the morning and seeing your face on channels TV and Linda Ikeji Blog. Those little things are memories, indelible memories that keeps you going during tough times, tough times like seeing an E in a course you did a three days vigil for, solving past questions over and again,like taking garri morning and night for Three days cause you are out of cash and foodstuffs simultaneously.You realise its just a phase,a temporary phase that would soon fade  .


They said purpose is bigger than you, and a dream is that thing that doesn’t let you sleep, so coordinating the first explicit writing workshop in my institution for me is a dream come true.

 There is this joy that comes from seeing people rejoice because of a choice you made, no matter the repercussion of those choices, at that particular point, you just bask in the aura of the lovely faces beaming with smiles, delighted about the knowledge they’ve been imparted with. These are prizes that come with price and sacrifice.

Life is a frantic race, sometimes we need to slow down pace. Our efforts may not be recognised but they would soon be rewarded, just look at Oliver Giroud, he was denied the goal of the month, the goal of the season, but won the goal of the year at the grandest stage, what other reward is bigger than that? 

You might not win a puskaz, or a nobel prize, or the idea trophy despite winning the most compelling idea, but every effort would be rewarded, that’s the law of karma.


I am filled with fears and scares, fears of the responsibilities mounting, fears of the fact that the world will be ready for me in few months time and I don’t think I am ready for the world, fear of falling out of love and in love with someone who doesn’t know what love is and doesn’t have the ability to love, but I am learning to to take a step a time, resting on the one who holds the future and watching my future unfold, so this time I wont promise you the next time I would blog, but by then I would have learnt more lessons because life is a great teacher, I hope you would have learnt some too. 
Your friend,

Emmanuel Faith.

P:S I had written about three blog post before today’s but I was always scared to post,today,I felt the same fright, I guess I surmounted it.

And brisk break



      You thought you wouldn’t do it, but you did. 

Your semester was hectic, it has always been. From your first year when you were an active member of both your department and your fellowship editorial team to your second and third year when you were an executive in the department and faculty simultaneously. You always have meetings , those long meetings that make the carpals crack and tarsals shrink from the force of lengthy yet static state. You rejoiced,with healthy hopes that your final year would be different, how wrong you were. The first semester welcomed you with a 28 days King making process that made you an attendee of a quotidian nocturnal exercise whose duration was about six hours and at the peak of your “Freedom”, Responsibility found you and nominated you as the assistant FYB coord. 

This numerous responsibilities starved you of some pleasure you derive, one of them was seeing movies. You room mates make jest of you because you are always “poke-nosing” and asking “silly”questions, at least that’s what they think so you promised yourself you will do a movie treat after your semester.

The arrangement of the room reminded you of homecoming in Karen’s kingbury’s novel, sparkling white cloth beautifying a painted brown table with series of cutleries sparkling across. You had walked in at the right time.

   Kevwe was a friend, your bestie you often call her, and visiting her and her friend patricia wasn’t planned, but you hadn’t seen them in 120 hours, for you that’s long.

  After many introductions and catching up, you remembered some mesmerizing memories f childhood days and decided to play a game “ANIMAL,PLACE AND THING.” , you will later learn a few lessons. You would learn that winners don’t win once, they keep winning because success is a journey not a state, you will also learn that beginning isn’t the journey, champions are made at the finishing line. After the game, you will finally have the opportunity to quench the hunger that was aroused by the aroma of the stew with two wraps of semo and your digestive system will rejoice in glee cause you haven’t eaten a complete food in 72 hours.

 Your movie treat started with an india movie, you don’t fancy India movies but you love love,romance and war and the movie combines the three beautifully. You watch as a warrior becomes a servant just to win a lady’s heart and come to the realisation that there is a big difference between who we are and the who that we are. You will finally stumble into the popular FAST and FURIOUS and you will watch season one to four in 24 hours, you have always said you will not do overnight on a Saturday with a movie because Sunday is a sacred day, but this time you did.  But again, like your mum always hammer, you must learn from everything because life is a teacher, so you learn from the movie that FAMILY is one the best thing that can happen to a man and that leadership is sacrifice and that Love forgives all, hopes and never gives up.


There is this spark,this bubbles in your heart when you hear her name,her presence engulfs you in her beauty,and her smiles lift you to the seventh heaven and bring you back in seven seconds.It was more than a crush,it was more like an irresistible sense of admiration. She was a Friend’s friend you wish was your friend,so when she invited you over to her place,you screamed in silent delight.

She was beautiful, beautiful inside out,you talked about everything and nothing,about hobbies,preferences,books authors and every other common ground your discussion landed you in,when she said she would sell the scrap of her faulty system to invest in books and invest the knowledge from the books to get funds for another system, your thoughts went blank like Aristotle’s tabula rasa.This is some unique belle, you muttered.You parted with this warm hug that chased cold out of your bones and heat your blood with flood of enthralling emotions seeking a permanent location,the crush has disappeared for something bigger.


You don’t like your course of study, especially the mathematical aspect so your heart will thud loudly when you remember that you have to do a ten-page  review on 25 articles relating to your potential project topic and you have less than 96 hours. Your break will come to an abrupt end, but you would derived maximum utility from everyminute of it

P:S- I had written this since 73hiurs ago,I didn’t know it didn’t post.have a splendid Saturday.

Her Eyes

This is a amazing

Michael Emmanuel


“HI,” he would say to her.

“Hello,” she would say.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

The lecturer would tap on his microphone, calling the students to attention. “I believe you understand why we’re having a mixed level class.”

A yell of “yes.”

“Say it now,” she would say.

“Can we be friends?”

She would look him in the eye, transporting him with the softness in her eyes. He would remember he once told her, “I have seen the depth of the oceans in your eyes.” He would remember her smile, her teeth shining through her lips, like a flower displaying pollen grains.

He would remember so many things…

CLASS ended early the day they met. He left the workshop with his bag, dirty from being flipped by the supervisor, as he took to the sidewalks. He wasn’t taking the commute today. Some days you just had to pause…

View original post 1,575 more words

tragedies of childhood.

So its one of those very few poems that make it to my blog 

, guess what? I wrote it in 254 seconds,with no edits.   Let me know what you think about the first draft

I remember the livid lashes 

That tore my flesh and spilled my blood

My eyes pale like burnt wood ashes

From the weight of papa’s rod.

Mum’s raucous rancorous chorus,

Torrents of mind boggling abuse.

The bashing words drew like cochorus

With decibels that won’t reduce.

The first day I came second,

Hell came to play in our home.

Is your brain no more fecund?

My dad asked with darts that roamed.

Uncle layi, my next door neighbour,

Was doing what only I could see.

He peeped and sneaked through my bathroom door

And stared at what eyes shouldn’t see.
The day he moved a step farther,

He did with me that painful thing,

In streaming tears I told my mother,

Who slapped me and then did, Nothing.

I could tell of startling stories

Scintillating tales of woe

But they are mesmerizing memories

With leads of lessons childhood bestow.

The end
What do you think?share your thoughts this space for something great

Jesus wept 

There is nothing more relieving than a free expression of emotions, its just exhilarating

Cobhams Asuquo.


 Yesterday, you cried.. A stream of ceaseless liquid ran rapidly across your face, soaking your eyes, and your handkerchief; Your lachrymal betrayed your masculinity. Your sisters’ coord whispered “Men don’t cry”, and I felt like asking her to shut up, but I couldn’t because in my society, shutting up a lady is as wrong s not shutting out tears from flowing freely. But she didn’t know why you cried, it was not sadness, it was an expression of an uncontrollable joy, the joy that emanates from two hearts clinging, hearts beating in unison of thoughts goals and purpose, two promising youth madly in love, no level of masculinity could hold that back.

The last time you cried, no one knew, except your reflection that gawked at you via the mirror in the rest room. The chilled air exuding from the Air condition clotted your tears and made them dry before the next batch flowed. You had just seen your second E in less than 24 hours.  How you would score a 40E in a course whose content produced a winning poem still baffled you. You thought about the precarious state of your C.G.P.A ,the dismal effect of an E and you wept profusely.  You groaned, screamed talked to God and wiped your face before getting back to your work. 

“Are you alright” a concerned colleague asked.”Yes I am” you replied heartily, flashing your creamy white teeth to produce one of the most counterfeit smile you ever gave.
“See my Father,my mother,my kins

They gave me this little boxes and said

“Son, always hide your tears in them

For a man’s tears must never be seen.”

Kukogho Iruesiri Samson.
We live in A society where mammoth of misleading mythologies thrives.One of which is the callous cliché “Men don’t cry.”    In the last 48 hours, I have witnessed two men shed tears, because that was the best way of expressing what they were feeling. 

   The first was a fellowship president who couldn’t contain the joy of serving over 200 members for the span of nine months plus. Within this period, the fellowship hosted a national conference, had series of retreats, had an amazing freshers welcome amidst other mind inspiring programs. Meditating on the challenges conquered, trials and tribulations that are now triumphs, he couldn’t help but let go and let the living water flow. It was a surreal moment to revere in.

   The second was a lovebird who broke into tears in the middle of a poetry recital for his heartthrob who was the celebrant of the day. It was a memorable moment, one of my best as a compere. Trust me, no level of “being a man” could withhold those honest emotions expressed in words.

  The shortest verse in the bible is “JESUS WEPT”, and that wasn’t a coincidence. Shedding tears is no act of cowardice, it’s a means of expression, one of the best ways of relieving tension, and according to my medical colleagues, posses therapeutic effects my diction can’t mention. I have shed tears a couple of times like when I gained admission after three years of writing utme,or when a lady I was deeply in love with told me she doesn’t know what love is. Hilarious,right? 

  Please the next time you tears hover around your eye brows, please don’t hold back, let them flow freely, its another way to heal.

Happy new month, enjoy august.


Disclaimer; this post was written five days ago,I didn’t know it wasnt published. Pardon my inconsistency, Life has been a frantic race,I hope to slow down soon.

back from hiatus?


The last time you typed, Lukaku was still an Everton player and Rooney was still a Manchester United legend who didn’t know he would be going back to his roots;the blue side of Merseyside. Bravo had not saved three penalties in a match and a Non English translated entry hadn’t won Caine prize. 

   Being busy isn’t new to you, more than ten pals have ranked you one of the top 50 busiest students in your institution, that is an amazing record if you take cognizance of the fact that there are over three tens of thousands feet walking in your institution. If being busy brought immediate results you should have scooped half of the OAU AWARDS, but like an egg thrown at a bouldur stress are accumulated efforts that will yield due rewards at the appointed time. Truth be told, by athat time, those ephemeral awards would have vanished, wouldn’t they?

 The last few weeks have been more than busy; they have been choking. Would you start from the  lecturer who wants you to read a 256 pages material AT LEAST FOUR TIMES before your test or the 18 hours Human Resource Management course you took over three weekends(you wish they knew how you loathe long lectures).

   Your fellowship aint exempted, they have successfully snatched your night for twenty one days turning you to a compulsory morning lark from an ebullient night owl.

  You have slept for three hours in two days, ate once in fourty eight hours, but you are still alive, aint you?

They say love is blind, sometimes you wish that you were an optician, that you are the balm of Gilead and can open love’s blind eyes, but is love really blind? You have been in and out “love” like a lizard’s tongue waiting to catch a moth. You are now Dr Love, the one who counsels, advice and gives suggestions when necessary. You watched your best friend made up with her first love and you are in love with a belle who knows not what love is,and another gorgeous Belle who is scared of love so you are the handsome charming prince eating doses of patience.


You have missed your blog, you haven’t opened wordpress in 30 days, but you are alive, you are full of life, you are surviving and you now that you will thrive, blossom and flourish. You will write about a thousand themes tussling to and fro in  your thoughts, but it wont be tonight, it would be sometimes later when time is on your side, till then, don’t give in to heinous hurt,when you lose what you think is yours, if it really and truly yours,it will find its way back to you.

P:S- I really appreciate everyone e who asked after me,and my blog… me,the last few weeks has been straining, I hope to bounce back soon.thanks for the care and concern and to the football fans,who would shake premier league next season, Morata or Lukaku?


​There is something about Mondays. I don’t know if it’s the feeble fear that lurks somewhere behind the “faith” I bear or the fret and fright of standing for four hours.

  Yes! four blessed hours of sonorous choruses, effectual exegesis and pulsating praises that harmonizes with the angel’s adulation to the Almighty.

  Being an executive in a fellowship like mine isn’t easy,but then, thinking about it, is anything easy? 

   The enthralling fact about the hours spent is that either the sky sheds torrent of tears or blows zephyr in zealous zest, we neither move or flinch, we stand firmly, praying.


      It was one of those Mondays when the sky decided to smile and shed tears simultaneously. The light but consistent drizzling had drenched a few, and some newbies were shaking already.

  When he said we should link hands, I found it strange. The best we do is to hold hands, to indicate unity, to help a fellow brethren and to flow with one mind and purpose,but linking of hands? That was weird.

  His name was ken, we called him ken, Kendrick, kennedy and any suffix anybody felt would sound nice when added to ken. Amidst us is “Fache”, the pretty damsel from Kogi whose pronunciation people had murdered and Aileburu Rhoda, the edo girl who looks Yoruba more than any other tribe. We have Ikoabasi and Chimduito, the southern belles with blazing dazing beauty alongside Fadirepo and Akingbade, the typical Yoruba warrior lineage. I remembered Okpala, the dark medicine dude that writes beautifully and Olanipekun, the tall Yoruba man, who is darker than a northerner.

   When ken asked us to sing the second stanza of the national anthem or do I say,pray the national anthem? I felt Nigeria praying; It was Nigeria praying! Tribal and geographical differences was buried as we found reasons to reason in unison…and I asked, can we be united?

  I met a young and brilliant chap who runs a pet project “MagniAfrica” on IG.  Interacting with him reminded me of the beauty in unity and the beauty of diversity. So can the Biafra stop threatening us with secession? Can boko haram and fulani herdsmen stop? In our corner, bed spaces and rooms, can we stop castigating anyone from a different clan? 
   There is this ominous news about secession looming loudly around us, so what happens to “United we stand, divided we fall.”. It starts with us, with our kind words, acts and deeds to our neighbour despite the tribal disparities. Remember, the beauty that exists in diversity and embrace unity… 

Fiery feminist; Proclaiming purity

​Deep breathe, deep sigh…click.

My fingers begin another series of energetic display, dancing joyfully on the beautifully coated hp system sitting comfortably at an angle 180 degrees from my eyelids.

   Sometimes I wonder what kind off system I will like to own, most likely a touch screen hp that is neither big nor small, maybe 14 inches or is 12? I don’t even know those measurements, God you can hear me right? I’m sure you wondering “why not A Mac?” 

I have always been a feminist, consciously or unconsciously, maybe because I spent my first year in the university hearing the rather ludicrous phrase “He walks and talks like a girl”. Can you imagine the embarrassment that slapped my face the day I entered a female hostel(Mozambique) and a whole block(Block O) came out to watch the “boy that talked and walked like a girl”?, dozens of eyeballs darted at me like the ninja’s flying daggers and their words were like a Samurai’s sword, piercing my ego, cutting through my masculinity.

  My male colleagues, yabbed, jested,made fun of and advised me to stop “behaving like a girl”, I don’t know if I took their advice or not. 

  My poetic colleagues, thought I was a feminist too, they said I blame guys for ladies woes, don’t I know ladies are stupid too and stupidity is meant to be least that’s what they think.

“Its better be his friend, He is a feminist o, an advocate of feminism” 

It was one the most respected lecturers in the department addressing my colleagues in a developmental economics class, as their raucous rancorous chorus of disorganised chatter was preventing the decibels of my voice from being effective.

  So I had the floor, and I maximised it, I talked about Zuriel Oduwole, the youngest celebrity to be listed on Forbes magazine(A female), about Malala Yousoufzai, the youngest winner of a Nobel Prize, and the youngest personality to ever address a UN gathering(as at the time she did).  The lecturer appreciated my efforts and ordered an applause…. I smiled, sat down, but the words “ He is an advocate of feminism” stuck like glue…I don’t know what I felt, but I wasn’t the same.

  The class birthed a poem, a poem that will later win a national poetry competition(it was only a token that was attached o) and will get published in an anthology later this year. Can you guess the title of the poem?

 Your name is sheri, you are the graciously gorgeous pretty belle that has decided to “gift” yourself to every Tom Dick and Harry, who comes around. Its not really your fault, it’s the fault of that shameless uncle who couldn’t find a better place to empty his dangling rod than inside an innocent immatured funnel. You cursed under your breathe as his heavy body did a see-saw on your flat tummy…. You still hear his coarse voice play chaotic cadence on your eardrums;


    He didn’t have to warn you. Who would listen to you? Is it your father whom you see just once a week? Or your mum who buys you all the goodies but never met your real needs.

  So now, you are the reckless belle cruising like a Dangote’s trailer with broken brake,… and those guys? They are just another version of your uncle,and your cousin who took delight in making heaps at the fallow land your uncle had cleared..only God knows how many guys would till the land and make heaps before you get useless,helpless, and hopeless…. Would you please take a break and apply brake?

5. Few days ago, In my bid to preach purity, a guy who engaged me told me that he wont feel bad if his sister is being jilted cause he would cheat a lady too…….and the evil cycle continues?

  The abused girl, becomes the insecure promiscuous lady, who has a collapsed marriage and gives birth to a wayward daughter so who stops the endless callous cycle?

  29 days ago I started a project titled 30days for purity, since I started, I have spoken in online and offline conferences, being appreciated, being criticised, being questioned, being acknowledged…..  but by God’s I am still standing.

  Reports reaching me says some people MAY have torn my “No Sex Until Marriage” vest and burnt it out of anger, I haven’t confirmed that…even if they did, I think it’s one of the price I have to pay for proclaiming what I believe in.


  In 48 hours time, I will join people from across the world to celebrate World Virginity day. I Think I will prefer it’s called World purity day. Our message is simple; In the world where immorality is publicly displayed, purity should be fiercely proclaimed. If you are still standing, stay strong, if you have fallen, we serve a God who lifts up, if you have been abused, broken or battered, we served a God who specializes in healing and comforting……. . At ife, You can join us at MFMCF religious ground, OAU. You can follow mineministry and @officialnosum on Instagram,Facebook and any other  social media platform.

   A big appreciation to EVERYONE who participated in 30daysforpurity,

Oladele Michael,Emmanuel Michael,Atere Timilehin,Adekunle Samuel,Precious Oluwadahunsi, Idowu Omotola, Mayor yakes, Deborah Oluwabori, Adebiyi Temilorun, Mayor yakes….and many more…God bless you all…


P:S- I am open to any invitation from, schools, meetings, conferences, organizations, institutions and any other platform as far as the themes; purity, gender equality, feminism and related themes is can reach me on 08179001180….till I write again always remember

“We cannot always bend the world into the shape we want, but we can try, we can always make concerted efforts”

 Chimamanda Adichei, Wellesley 2015.

Fourteen days of forte and fun


You had always longed for an internship, you were desperate about it. You sacrificed everything, everything a student would, your time, your money, your energy and even your CGPA. What do you call writing an essay when your mates were reading for a test and missing a test because of an interview? So when you FINALLY got one, you grabbed it. Not considering the alternatives forgone, which included suspending two major projects you were working on, missing three weeks of lectures amongst other things. 

  You took one week class in finance after your exams, since your internship was in a finance firm, thank God you did, it will later save you, and give you an edge.

“You will pay fine for always using sir and ma,”

 The compliance officer said. You smiled. You can’t comprehend how you are supposed to address people that are old enough to be your big aunty or even mother by name, but you have to.

  You settle at your work station. Your work station is a system connected to an internet, nothing more, nothing less. So you discover a part of you – you can’t sit down in an office for eight hours, so you are sure you won’t pursue that aspect of finance after school.

  Your work is intriguing, it’s very insightful. You read the stock markets like a Wall Street analyst, you watch companies shares rise and fall like see-saw in parks and garden, you advise investors, the big ones and small. SELL,HOLD, BUY and guess what? They obey you. 

  You know the worth, THE REAL worth of Dangote, of Unilever and other big firms. You are wondering why there are so much Dangote, DANGFLOUR,DANGCEM,DANSA, and every other company that starts with “DAN”. You remember a Yoruba proverbs that says “owo olowo n’olowo nna,” the rich makes his money from everyone’s money. You watch the top gainers in stock market yesterday become the top losers today and you realize a life lesson, No condition is permanent. 

 You also realize that in the real world, your grades only open the door , your brain keeps you in.

  You are doing a training, with ICAN ,ACCA,MASTERS and potential CFAs certified people. You are in your finals, you haven’t even started lectures, so you are tactically still in your penultmate, yet you contribute, and people understand.

  You talk about hedge funds, mutual funds,toxic assets, EBIT,EBITA, EBIDTA and other things those lecturers whose delight is in giving you C and Ds would never teach you.  You’ve spent two weeks and you haven’t done a single dy/dx,so you are asking for the umpteenth time, WHY AM I STUYDYING ECONOMICS?


There is a public holiday, so you accept a friend’s invitation to pay her a visit, you have actually received about ten invites from different friends, but you kept declining because you prefer to spend your free time at home, with yourself, your brilliant brother and lovely mum…but she is…unique…she is one of those few ladies who knows almost something about everything.

    She welcomes you with the taunt of Arsenal beating Chelsea, you try to soften the effect by succumbing easily, then you talk about Rafael nadal,roger Federer and Andy murray. She shares her thoughts about champions celebrity and complacency and you learn another life lesson, Yesterday’s success is a major hindrance to today’s progress and tomorrow’s success. So beware.

  She tells you serena Williams is now number two and then you watch a French program. You share thoughts about relationship, how her youth pastor said ladies are emotional and guys are logical, you dispute that postulation and create yours, then she offers you bread, wheat bread, boiled egg and butter with a chilled coke to send it off.

   You talk about Mark Zuckerberg and his Harvard delivery, Richard leigh and his well punctuated poetry, chemistry, physics, geography and then books since you are both vast readers. She says she hasn’t read Redeeming Love because nearly everyone around her has, you reply by saying you have read it seven times, SEVEN GOOD TIMES. She is dazed, gazed and amazed. She shows you one of her book reviews and the opening lines read

“The author throws the climax at the reader’s face in the opening paragraph” , you read the line over and again, and you ask, Tayo did you write this? Some thoughts are tussling to and fro rapidly in your head but words can’t seem to bring them forth, so you just stare and smile.

   Her mum comes back and she looked prettier than the first time you met her, that was when someone with heinous hands and heartless heart stole her daughter’s system in your care, it was a bad first impression. But today was different; she was wearing a purple gown, a purple flowery flowing gown. You love purple, it depicts royalty, you love flowery outfits too, your mum says it’s a unique trait, your friends says it’s only the female that should like flowery outfit, was something beautiful made for female eyes alone?

  She makes a polite request that you should follow her to Ojota to deliver something for her daughter, the one who is your friend, and your host’s sister but your host says you are her visitor, so you are torn between two thoughts; Would you please the daughter and enjoy myriad of intellectual conversation or please the mother and learn a bit more about the adult world? You choose the latter. There has been a chasm between the older generation and yours ad you don’t intend to fall victim of that gap.

 After an insightful and fun-filled time, you head home, at oshodi, you get confused again, should you take BRT or MOLUE? It was past six already and you told your mum you will be back by six. There are always people in Lagos, people like ghosts in the graveyard and spectators watching champions league final, so you are shocked neither of both buses are filling up. While wandering about what to do, you hear bike-man scream, Iyana-Ipaja , you ask how much, he says 150, you felt it was cheap, since bus was 150 to, but he was carrying two of you so you shrugged, you’d later wish you hadn’t .  You love bikes, you like to bask in the aura of the speed and blowing breeze. You have taken long distances before, like from IFE to ODEOMU or from IWO Road to OKEADO and U.I to , MOLETE, its crazy but you love it, you know you’d own a powerbike soon but for now you just enjoy his. There was traffic, heavy traffic, in Lagos it’s called STANDSTILL, it’s like Staying on a spot for about 45 minutes, its killing, frustrating and annoying, because you are just stuck and helpless. But you see, the beauty of bike is that they beat traffic, they maneuver dangerous bends and curves, zoom in and out of trailers and trucks, jump behind danfo and land in front of jeep, but THEY BEAT TRAFFIC, who cares about how they do?

 You get to iyanaipaja at 6:21, a journey of about 45 minutes +x where x stands for traffic was travelled in about 17 minutes. You are glad. You give the man 500, you add 50 naira so that he will give you 400 naira change, he smiles and say bros thanks o, but you ask for your change and he looks dumfounded, the other guy pays 500 too and doesn’t collect change, he tells you its 500 and its your turn to be dumbfounded.

“I thought you said 150,”

“No boss, its 500”.

 You shake your head, you stare at the few currencies left in your wallet, they were scanty, really scanty, you rmember how you bragged to your brother earlier in the day that you prefer to use money to buy time, you just did that. You sluggishly close your wallet, darted across the road to board another bus home, but you learn a lesson, Always make lucid clarifications before any transaction.

You are at your work-station, you just finished a class on Bloomberg. You have some reports to write, some data to upload and some minutes to type. You remember a poetry competition closing today and you haven’t written the first line. How do one combine career with passion, or make your passion your career as those career counselor use to advise. Your let the cold air permeating from the AC blow the question away. Your body is sitting but your mind is in school, what’s the essence of school, you ask again? You look up and you’ve typed three pages……you exclaim…. Type the last paragraph, thank everyone reading this……appreciate your fellowship,  your friends,MINE and those who have kept in touch, you’d see them all in 96 hours, but for now, you have to get back to work.

I was supposed to write part two,but this post was long enough…maybe part two will come before Friday…a big thanks to everyone who checked on me…thanks for the calls,texts and WhatsApp messages..Gos bless you…this post is dedicated to Kayo Tayo,thanks for being an amazing host.