Thursday, November 16, 2006

Dilemma...

I am a good girl!
Nah! You don't get it. See, I am not "self proclaiming", I actually mean it. I have always thought being good was a choice of mine. You know, that I was in total control and chose to be good most of the time versus being evil. Here's what I just found out, It's not a friggin' choice! I AM GOOD! In human standards anyways. Point is, it is woven in my DNA and I cannot be bad even if I wanted to. Of course some of those who know me will disagree with this ;) but blah. I have been most terrible these past year and I look at the "terrible" things I have entertained and...well, they just don't trouble the bad radar. Everyone around me is much worse!!! So why does that bother me you ask? Quite frankly, I don't know. I don't envy "bad" folks; ok, well maybe I do sometimes, I mean bad has been the fad for a while now, and well, sometimes I feel like getting in on it too, but perhaps a more truthful reason will be the fact that I do not have the desire to retaliate or to hurt. (Think of Junior, son of senor senor in Kim possible, to those that indulge in cartoons like me.) And oh, when I do retaliate I am so quick to apologise and forgive and.... While I'm apologising or forgiving someone who has earned my passionate hatred I can often hear my head screaming "Stop darnit!" but I never listen. When I eventually sum up the fume to leave someone in my black book I feel guilty. Oh and when I eventually stop feeling guilty about blacklisting someone then I feel guilty about not feeling guilty.

What the heck is going on?

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Rough, untamed yet sexy: Vernacular

Too often, the images of seduction, romance and sex are western, usually English or French; with the local language of coercion, teasing and suggestion having all but disappeared among the African westernized elite and educated this is not surprising, yet a small collection of men find it rousing to rustle the educated Nigerian woman with an unexpected bout of racy vernacular.
Why could it be such a turn on when a man or woman tells you what he wants to do to you in Ibo, or Yoruba, or Hausa...or murmurs romantic jargon in your earlobes as he tickles you? Perhaps it is the fact that it is unexpected, now different from the norm, or perhaps because our native tongue is a lot more descriptive? The R-rated words consuming a lot more vowels than the average word? Or, try this, the fact that you imagine this man as a half naked African in the jungle fighting off lions and hyenas, or this woman as a half naked African sashaying across the bank of the river in the moonlight (yes, the western man has imprinted in our minds forever the image of the African prior to colonization as half naked)?
Don't let western culture encourage you to discount yours. The minstrel shows of back in the day are clear indications of the envy the western world possesses in regards to the African. With their faces painted black, they swagger and poke fun at the black man, acting carefree, vulgar and deliriously happy. That was the image they had of the black man. We have now thrown that away for stiff shirts and ties. I am not saying shirts and ties are not appropriate for a certain time, but even if just for the sake of variety why don't we embrace this carefree and lascivious part of our culture?

Today I challenge young African men and women to take the risk of speaking to their object of affection in a language more suited in our age to poke jest, fun, and gossip about the oyinbo couple right in front of us in the queue. I could be a lot more graphic about what you could say, but my blog is strictly PG. Regardless, you should get the ball rolling and turn up your imagination if you really want to try this anyway. Oh yeah, before I forget a prerequisite is the ability to understand said language at least somewhat.

Oh what the heck! The French language can turn anyone on regardless of the ability to understand. Go ahead and speak your language to your American wife. If it backfires you could always tell her it's a french dialect. Vous comprenez?

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

My class trip

So I met a bigot at the factory tour orchestrated by the operations faculty. The tour guide was completely oblivious to the reaction of the group he escorted through the facilities as he ranted on.
As the tour began, he started out with an innocent illustration about one of their products. Asking questions and displaying product parts he had completely captured the attention of the entire group. So his next statement was, well, loud and clear in a silent room. "...some of you or your husbands have drills..." Yes, before you say I overreacted, or perhaps misconstrued the whole thing, I did give him the benefit of the doubt. That doesn't change the fact that the statement implicitly implies that only the men in the group, or perhaps the husbands of the ladies have and use drills. OK, no big deal.
Then we moved on to the assembly line. His next statement confirmed exactly what he suggested earlier on, that he was indeed a chauvinist. "You will notice there are mostly women here, well that's because there are tiny bits and pieces in the assembly line; women are generally better at things like that, moreover it doesn't require any strength. You just put together tiny parts".
"Hello? Anybody in there?" I found myself asking? I couldn't help but wonder if his skull was stuffed with bubble wrap. Now, I wasn't personally offended, but felt he was unnecessarily inappropriate and iniquitous. At this point I expected more displays of ignorance, but the next incidence was even worse.
We moved on to the warehouse and Mr man continued on his apparently well comfortable path. "this is the worst job ever" he said, referring to the men packaging the products that were heading out "all you do is stuff boxes and tape them up.... This side of the glass wall gets paid on an hourly basis, the other side of the glass wall are salaried workers". At this point I threw my hands in the air! The folks packing the products were less than a stone throw away; they could clearly hear him, but he had no regard for them. Dumb bigot!

So we finished up the tour and went to interview the panel of top executives and that was when I saw him. Whoa! He was middle aged, but you couldn't tell (he told us, and after calculations, it must be true) and he was the only black man in the panel. Nope, that wasn't what impressed me. He expressed himself most eloquently and damn if that didn't demand attention and respect from everyone. He had a confident and deep voice, he was handsome and well chiseled and he looked like he was thirty. His hair was cut military style, flat on the top, but full enough. His shoulders...he must have been in the military. Then I thought to myself, "Wait! Don't these folks manufacture plastic surgery equipments and implants? And didn't he mention the fact that he had a good rapport with the champion surgeons? Oh damn!" Oh well, the rest of the group didn't seem to care too much as to why he was hot and smart. Good enough! Men was I proud of being black.

That was how the day went. It was fun after all. I had earlier resigned to the thought of a boring day out at a factory, but it turned out interesting and enlightening. I wonder if I can skip recap tomorrow.

Monday, November 06, 2006

On religion

Scandals in the church.
As I ponder on what the hell is going on, I can't help but feel some sense of betrayal. Actually, I have never heard of pastor Ted prior to this sex scandal, but I still feel betrayed knowing that he professed a bible believing faith (notice there is a distinction between bible believing faith and simply religious faith).
The rest of us are what you could call students, not saying it is an excuse to sin, but a lot more weight is placed on someone who refers to himself as a teacher. Drugs? Prostitution? How do you reconcile?
Taking a step back, is it possible that he succumbed to a battle that was fashioned to personally destroy him? Or, was he just plain conniving? Who knows? May God in his infinite mercies forgive us all, both student and teacher, in Jesus' name. Amen

On to a broader issue...here's a question I have been pondering for years now. What exactly is freedom? Quite frankly, I don't know and there is not one response that satisfies me as of yet. I mean, can one actually achieve complete freedom? There is a transition between stark bondage and proportioned freedom. Think of a number line. You move from negative towards positive, but you never hit zero. You get in the proximity and then you go right back to extremely negative numbers. Here's where I am going with this: When you "perceive" that you are absolutely free, you find that you are enslaved to this so called freedom. Once again, we return to bondage.

Now, on freedom AND religion (not freedom OF religion).
Why is it that most of the "free" people of today (yep, the western world) insist on identifying with a religion they cannot tolerate? It has now become the right of people (freedom) to refashion religions that are as old as age itself (hyperbole) to suit their lifestyles.
This is how I see it, if the bible says homosexuality is a sin, you better agree that you're sinning if you indulge in same sex activities and call yourself a Christian. In the same vein, if the Quran says there should be a Holy Jihad, you better be yielding your instrument of conversion or perhaps war if you confess Islam. If you don't agree with these issues as is found in the great books though, then why not just transition into a new age religion? Like say, Scientology?
Here's another one, why must Catholic priests get married? If you want to be married as a priest then go protestant. You knew the law was there before you confessed Catholicism, so why is it now your right to get married? Or why must the church marry a gay couple? Or pray tell, why is the episcopal church trying to run it's own mission? Now, there's nothing "wrong" in what it confesses, but in the context of the bible it is dead wrong.
No wonder the west is considered a basket of infidels. I don't see a Buddhist monk clamoring for satellite TV or insisting to get married have kids and move them into the monastery.

The new definitions of infidel as it applies to today's world.
1. Infidel: A person whose life has an adverse relationship with his or her faith with the knowledge of such a relationship and yet no remorse.
2. Infidel: A person who professes a faith and yet opposes everything the faith holds true.

*feeling guilt pangs. It appears definiton 1 capture most of the human race every once in a while. Including yours truly?
God truly is merciful.

Zombie

In the wise words of FELA,

Zombie oh Zombie...
tell am to go straight, na jooro jaara jooro
No talk no stop no sense, na jooro jaara jooro
tell am to go kill, na jooro jaara jooro
No talk no stop no sense, na jooro jaara jooro
go and kill jooro jaara jooro
go and die jooro jaara jooro
put am for reverse jooro jaara jooro
Zombie way na one way, jooro jaara jooro
Attention, quick march, double up, salute, open your hat
stand at ease, fall in, fall out. Ready!
Ooooooooooooorrdaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Obviously, I have encountered one of these creatures these past couple of days.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

So, I set my bra on fire...

Well, not really, but I very well might have. I was protesting, it was a show of anger, defiance, power....

So here's what I did,
I tossed my pills in the toilet and flushed them down the drain! Damn right I did! And you know what that implies right? Since babies are not in MY plan anytime soon, putting it lightly, it means you ain't getting none.
Ahhhh! It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and gosh it was frighteningly delicious and yeah, it felt so damn good; ALL pun intended.
But here's where the plans kinda got screwed over.
See apparently this feel good feeling can be a sorta, well...turn on. Ah! You think I mean for the object of my annoyance right? Yeah yeah, him too, but more so for me. The power was driving me.... I know how powerful figures feel now. I mean, I was on cloud nine operating under the influence. Talk about precarious.

Here's how it got worse,
I endured a three hour full course seduction in the middle of the night. A true test to one's self control. My pride would not let me give in, actually now I think about it and it really was the thought of the floating little pills in the septic tank. I messed up, I was trying to exert power by allowing him to get so far, but not all the way, after all I had been immersing him in cold water successfully these past few weeks, talk about power drunk. But like all absolute monarchs, yeah, I consider myself the absolute monarch over me and everything in and on me, you eventually "overdo" it, just like I was about to. But what the hell is the matter with him too? He knows I'm off the pill. I couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to spite me. Of course it gathers that I should fear the little baby makers more seeing as I was contemplating hitting the road. But oh gosh! It hit me, it just hit me! No not that! How nice it will look on his portfolio for the world to know he conquered me. In such a barbaric way at that. My resolve got stronger. I must have shoved him to the floor at least 3 times, wait, I think 5 times. Yes! I deserve huge credit for that. But he deserves even more credit for his resolve. He couldn't be fended off. And then he kissed my ears! The ears! That was cheating! Everyone knows the ear is my weakness. I should have sent him right out soon as he walked in and if I didn't want to, well actually, I couldn't tell he was in the room till he was right on top of me, but I could have used some politely scorching words to douse whatever fire was possessing him. Ah! Here's a nice phrase that would have worked just fine "come off it!".

Oh well, I didn't do any of those things. Needless to say, I am heading to my doctor's right after class. She has the prescription for my morning after pill and ortho tri cyclen lo waiting for me.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

The Nigerian Palava

Recalling a required text for my JS 2 literature class I couldn't help but bemoan the prolonged length of the Nigerian curse called Greed. "Bribery is a canker worm eating into the very fabric of our nation." A direct quote from the book, that I unfortunately cannot remember the title of (actually, the only thing I remember about the book is the quote), but interchange the word "bribery" for "Greed" and you have the Nigerian plague.

Understand this, well, it's my candid belief and I am extremely convinced of its accuracy, that every problem Nigeria faces today emanates directly or indirectly from greed.

A plane crashed just recently in Abuja.
It's all just so perplexing. You look at basic macroeconomics, you know, GDP, unemployment, consumption, investment...You look at basic microeconomics, you know, supply and demand...and you think to yourself, this is like "econ for dummies", surely Nigeria has skilled economists who can clearly tell that all they have to do is XYZ to bring the nation out of the dumps. So why does Nigeria never take such a step?
This same nonchalant attitude is what has led us to the third plane crash in the nation within a friggin' year! In a country where there are no typhoons or hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanoes...why the f* do we insist on destroying ourselves for a few under the table tips. I tell you that plane crash could have been avoided if someone wasn't greedy somewhere. Yep! It could have been the pilot, or the managers, or the owners, or the airport authorities, or the Nigerian aviation department, or the importer of the planes...who knows, but greed lies there somewhere.

They say the pilot was warned of weather conditions before he took off. Well, yeah! The weather made the plane crash two seconds after take-off! Right!

And so I lament the state of the Nigerian corporate demeanor. Seeing as we have all now become so accustomed to greed that we have come to expect it at every establishment and social situation, one can only hope that a divine intervention changes the tide before more people perish.

God let this be the last plane crash in Nigeria this year. Whatever lessons we ought to have learnt from this incident as a nation, do not permit to elude us. Biko, save us from this Nigerian Palava called greed. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.