Abuja Chronicles: Lesson 1; Expect less, Everytime and from Everyone

So I was in Abuja recently, by recently I mean about two month ago. And, getting back I wrote this Chronicle which I had not found the time, or the nerve maybe, to put it up online. But well, I eventually got my way around the fear, and I am putting it up now. Some things I am not really proud of in here. 

Well, here is my first day in Abuja. *pinched nose* Like seriously? I am 20 and it's only my first time in Abuja?   

GETTING STRUCK

After waiting about twenty minutes at the Area 10 Garki, accompanied by 20 minutes of pensive pacing on the extremely dark sidewalk, he finally showed up in his blue smart car. He was finally here to pick me up.

I had had enough for the night, 13 hours on the road is no joke. But then, regardless of my blurry sight and the groggy spell that has befallen me due to the long hours in the car, I knew something was wrong. Maybe not wrong in every sense of the word, but I knew something was amiss. Oh, just then it struck me, I was in the capital city. Yes, I was in the freaking capital city of Nigeria that looked nothing like the capital city I had imagined.

I had spent about 11 months in school with no break whatsoever to my home in Ogun state. Even when I get to leave school and travel outta the radius of our very own Alcatraz of a school, usually, it’s about some assignment or something of sort, so, as I planned to leave Ilorin after my industrial attachment, I had planned to have the fun of my life in Abuja. Tha capital city must know say I don show. Well, here I was, and I’m not sure any if my daydreams which I had intentionally decided to leave out in this post will be taking flesh anytime soon; maybe never.

I was in Abuja. 2 days earlier just before leaving, my supervisor at my IT place had coated Abuja in the finest of shades. “You’ll be proud to be Nigerian”, he said in his signature guttural tone. And oh, I was looking forward to getting blown off of my heels, I was looking forward to seeing the wonders my supervisor had gingerly wrapped in those 6 words.

All Black Everything

Oh, I was looking forward. But then, as I stood in front of the Cyprian Ekwensi building where the car from Ilorin had dropped me off at Area 10 Garki, I knew I had expected too much. There and then, I made up my mind, “if you want to enjoy Abuja, you will have to lower your standards” I thought.

So, I was in this really small Toyota hatchback and we are headed back to Asokoro, Area 11 where I will be putting up for the next 6 days; 6 days that I have now concluded might just be as disappointing as finding a Nintendo^TM console in a traditional X-Box pack (you know how that feels right?). Ok.

AT THE GATES

Just like I said; it’s all pretty screwed up. We got to Asokoro after a few too many wrong turns (It still baffles how he misses his way with such dexterity), but then, we were at Asokoro in “no” time, and soon enough, we were knocking on the State House’s gates.

Though I didn’t particularly come to terms with the fact that I was going to be staying in the villa just in time, but then, getting to that gate and confronting that throng of security, I knew just then that the person behind the walls must be a really important person. And it actually dawned; this…is …Aso Rock.

Well, he said some things to them about communication centre yadaya, and we were let through just in time for me to let out a sigh of relief. Finally we are in.

IN THE VILLA   

We were in the villa. “Hey! You are actually within the walls that house the most important citizen of Nigeria”, the thought came flying in like an RPG shot with wrong coordinates, just that it didn’t come with the same shattering effect you’ll expect. It actually looked like a big deal, feel-good-about kinda thing, but then, it burned through without an effect; just like a dud dynamite.  

Of course, it’s definitely a big deal; it’s just that, I was not being driven by a presidential aide with an armed convoy, but instead, it’s only my brother in this extremely small coupe.  

And one more thing, I won’t actually be staying in the state house, but instead, it will be one of the very many government-built individual-owned condominiums that lined each entrance of the state house.

So, now you see how much of a dud that thought actually was. I am in the state house, but then, am not actually in the state house, crappy. So, in an instant, I expunged that thought and hinged it toward the fluffy king-sized mattress waiting for my tired self in one of those condominiums that lined the western axis.

CONDOMINIUMS AND A KING SIZED BED

Sorry. They were nowhere in sight. Oh, of course, the condos were standing right there, all painted in dominant white, just as I had seen them from far away. But for the king-sized beds, nope, they really were not to be seen. Instead, my brother had set up a retractile camp bed, specially for me. That left me shaking my head and cussing under my breath; “pathetic bachelor”.  

Well, now that all my hopes of a king-sized bed has been dashed, I made straight for the bathroom, showered, sauntered out, took the mal-cooked dinner and headed straight for the bed; freaking camp bed. And as that camp bed begins the staggering task of keeping me comfortable all night, my first day in Abuja gradually fades, all shadowed in a gloomy kinda sense of relief.

Curtain Falls

POWTER’S CENTRAL: THE ONE ABOUT MY JUST CONQUERED CRUSH

Long and Boring Post, reader’s discretion advised.

#Nickelback plays in the background#

I am so ecstatic I can’t believe myself. I just got back from the shower, an expected fallout of hours on the Tennis court, courtesy of my Uncle; adopted Uncle, who drilled me in a 4 set game, the result of which I am not really willing to share right now.

Take it or leave it, I still can’t believe I just got back from the sports pavilion less than 30 minutes ago and am still as strong as  a horse – seriously, literally strong enough to run the Third Mainland from end to end.

However, as the idea may have started to take shape in your mind, I am sorry to disappoint you; this post is not about the ecstasy attached to being this strong after all I have been through today, it’s actually about the mystery attached to the whole affair – which I swear on oath is even a more interesting topic.

Ofcourse, get rid of that quizzical glare creeping onto your face. I really had been through a lot today, and you see, if anyone had told me I was going to end the day on a high, God knows I would have gladly given the dude a psychiatrist’s contact – a little tick check maybe.

It started on a bad note. There is no masking it; it was bad, really bad. You know that kind of bad where you think all the forces of nature are beefing you all at the same time? Yep! That kinda bad.

Think Again

I did not know where the vibe was coming from. But just somewhere deep inside, I knew the day wasn’t going to be a good one. I am not a psychic, don’t even nurse that thought. And my name is Gbenga, if anyone knows me at all, s/he will know I am not the bloke who walks around with random chains of premonitions forming a halo around my head. But you see, even I felt surprised at myself. There were no signs; just this persistent snowballing hunch that keeps whispering into my hear, “bad day ahead”.

I braced up for it, and lo, the first jab came; the studio-broadcasting schedule had been reorganized. Alright, you may think, what’s the big deal in that? Well my dear, it is a deal, not just a big one, it’s colossal.  

So there I was, gazing at the schedule, thinking, boiling, seething and finally, I couldn’t help but vocalize it, “holy crap”, I said without giving a thought to it. My mind was racing, how am I supposed to compensate myself for the early reveille I had to grumble through this morning? Who changes a schedule without telling the parties involved anyways? I really was boiling now, I could feel vapour effervesce through my hair follicles.

But well, when life gives you lemons they say, make a lemonade of it. So, guess what I did? I bent over, picked my lemonades off the tiles, got the juicer, and sooner than I had thought, I was sucking away at my cup of lemonade soon enough, even though I had to play the wingman on the Show that was supposed to be mine, I still didn’t lose my cool – round of applause for me. Yaay!!

So, what happened next? A whole lot of things. But I will go on ahead – spare you the Rango story, and tell you the kahuna tale; the one that convinced me that, truly truly, I had bargained for a bad day, and I was getting it with all the aftersales service. What happened? The talk about “crushes”.

Not the kinda crush that involves a pestle and unlucky pieces of Yam in Mrs. Aweda’s mortar. It’s the one where a boy and a girl are the main players. You can shut your mouth now. The truth; every guy in the world had had a crush, currently has a crush, or will soon have one. So let’s face it, it’s a talk about a crush; a mistake maybe, I just hope I make it more often.

I am going to tell you a little bit about this crush. Because believe it or not, the event with her toppled my day – I told you it was the mother of them all. So, take a good listen (read maybe), this promises to be long and boring.

This crush was the most persistent one I have felt in all my life, it lasted about two years – it’s sick right? I think so too. The girl we are talking about is smart, according to my estimation. She was the only crush that made me bit my tongue at any attempt to make a joke around her. Why? ‘cos she doesn’t get them – I think that’s dumb, but what could I have done? This crush was the only one I could not make any sense of because it was fetish in outlook to me. Why? That will be a story for another day.

This crush….is the only crush I can’t find the words to describe because the words don’t come. *static recall*, am sorry to disappoint, but that will be all you will know about that crush for now. But overall, there is this detail I will like you to know about her. Our friendship status – which ranges from a passive “non greeting and talking” to a superficial “hugging” everytime determines the outcome of my day. So, depending on where we fall on the scale for a very long had been the measure of my mood and the general productivity of my day. (You are gonna have to pardon the past/present tense mix-up, am not sure just yet, if am over the crush).

I know it’s pretty complex and hard to connect with. But usually, because crush is not something you can just toggle on and off like a power switch, I try to always be on her good side, ‘cos to be on the bad side, is to bargain for a really bad day. Moreover, since choosing sides is something I can easily control – relatively, compared to the mode of the crush, I usually choose to work on what side I find myself.

So, since you’ve taken out your time to guess. I actually did found myself (which in all honesty isn’t my fault) on her bad side today. And it all went plummeting from there on. I snapped at everyone around, like I’ll do anytime this happens, believe me, I don’t have any idea why this happens all the time, but it does every single time. I’m thinking she knows she has that effect everytime. But ofcourse, by writing this, I just cleared all the doubts.

Enough of my sappy crush tales. After all that, my day went from bad worse, even as I was invited to host a programme I was not given an official letter of invitation. What were they thinking? Like seriously, I was going to walk in there and look like a fool to potential crushes? Am sorry. No.  

Now, what’s the morale of the story. In all sincerity, I dunno anymore. It’s 23:31, and my eyes are flickering shut. I am just going read this over, and press, “upload” – errors or not.

But just so you know, tomorrow is going to be a really good day, ‘cos though today threatened to be bad one, it turned out better than a date with Bukola Elemide. All thanks to ‘Beth, Pia, Stephie, Aretha (who were soft cushion ladies) and Kay who kept me on the court till 9.00pm. You guys shamed my crush. I had a blast of a day, hope to partner with you guys more often. 25 gbosas to you guys jare.

P.S Please ignore all my bloopers, I really was half-asleep and torpid while posting this. Moreover, about that crush…#am walking away, Graig David#, let’s just say, am done with crappy deals. *winks*

I AND MY DIRTY CHURCH HABITS

First, I have to tell God in advance to close his eyes to everything I’ll be writing in this blogpost. And if he ever makes the mistake of opening his eyes to behold any of the sentences I had written, he should be thoughtful enough to forgive me like he always does. (at least I warned him before hand).

So this evening I was back in Church for the regular “Sunday Sunday Tonic” (as I had been accustomed to call the Sunday service until few years back), and with my prim and proper self, I sat listening to the preacher rave on about holy spirit and all the perks (well, God I told you not read o). 

But that was not where it all started, I particularly was not so interested in going to church today, but blame me, I had succeeded in dragging myself to the Church and standing there at zero-motion listening to the praise and worship; wondering if God won’t understand had I stayed back at the hostel, alas, there I was feeling like everything was wrong with the world. 

I remembered the worship session used to be my favorite segment back then at the Teens Church with unalloyed teenage cacophonous renditions, and then the after-service meeting item 8 (yah it’s an extended sequence of item 7); but you know what they say  about change. #Timeandchancehappenstothemall.

Moving on and back to this evening, remember I told you the preacher was stuck-in deep with this Holy Spirit thing? Yeah, so it was a Holy Spirit Sermon today with special appearance from the third dude of the trinity himself. And listening to this young man as he preached today; without any warning whatsoever, I started to feel colossal pity for this unfortunate word in the English language –“actually”; that’s the word – “actually”.

Well, we all know how much this word fits into almost any sentence construction and we never just seem to be able to resist the temptation of using it, we really just can’t help it, but how on earth will one deliver a 50 minute sermon on “How to experience the outpouring of the Holy Spirit” and afford to use the word “actually” approximately more than 60 times?

I know, I am not supposed to be doing this; keeping tally of how many times a preacher uses a particular word, but I settled my case with God already, so ya’ll had better keep your nosy hypocritic mouths in silent mode. ‘Cause the truth is, keeping tally apart from keeping me awake, it’s way way fairer than pinging-o-sermon, so what do you say now? Huh?

Well, moving on.

You know the Church can be a pretty funny place and most times I just wonder how God will go about judging this bunch of hopeless youths in this reckless generation (I do hope he has all that figured out). Observe me for instance, keeping tally of the frequency of “actually” usage during a sermon. How am I supposed to make heaven if God waltzes in though the church doors at that point?

There are some times when I ask questions, really silly ones. Some like why the preacher has to cajole the congregation to scream halleluiah. You know those very awkward moments when a preacher screams “praise the lord” and he’s a met with a drab response coming from tired parishioners? If they don’t want to praise the lord (shey tis their own wahala na), but then the preacher will come on with lines like; “if you know “today” is your year of glory”, “if you believe that you will earn 1 million naira this month”, “if you believe Arsenal will win a trophy this season”, shout a thunderous halleluiah; and then the crowd runs amok with shouts and whistling and then I start wondering if they were actually praising God or falling for the sweet words of the ‘wily’ preacher.

I ask so many questions and also notice so many weird things, but then, tonight I have decided to observe the number of times our dear preacher used the word “actually” in the course of his sermon.

I have wasted today at the service no doubt, but then, it earned me a blogpost. Well, all things work together for good for those that …(read up the rest in Rom. 8:28). I can’t afford to misquote the good book.

Nevertheless, much more that my dirty and infamous church habits, the question we should try ask ourselves sometimes is why we do some of the things we do in church sometimes. I don’t really fancy going to church, not because I am an atheist or something other than a Christian, but because we don’t have true church services anymore. True worship has been replaced with well produced renditions laced with lyrics propagating self satisfaction. The cause of the kingdom has been forgotten by so many, and now more than ever, we have so many empty souls filling up our multimillion naira cathedrals.

Preachers are only concerned with getting members into their churches and not into heaven. Faith is no longer a lifestyle; rather it is merely a religious concept that is highly impracticable.

My prayer is that God save this church. And just like John Bethke; I love Jesus, but speak of religion, I detest with an unequaled passion. 

 *Sidenote: I know I have not been here a long time. And am not even sure if I am sorry about that. UNILORIN is not smiling at all. Infact, I had written this just for the sake of it. So...off I go again to the boring lectures and term papers. Ciao. XOXO

SEE MY ALTER EGO SUPER FLOP....

The other day I was chatting with my alter ego; Gbenga, and we got into a really deep argument as to who’s responsible for the dormancy of this blog for close to 2 months now. I am not going to give you a breakdown of our discussion just yet, but I made sure to dent his ego critically. He promised to put up a post just to prove he still has the meatloaf between his ears. So, Gbenga in bid his to impress as usual presents this one….. *drab clapping*.

HOW TO MANAGE FUNDS: GBENGA'S TWISTED PERSPECTIVE 

Let’s talk about money. Okay, now you’ve seen the topic and I can picture that crease on your face, the Yimu (acute upward movement of your nose to signify jonzing) you are putting up complete with the smirk. What is this one about? Another one of those Yahoo answers “Ten easy ways to get Rich in ten days”? Well, maybe it is or not, why don’t we just find our together.

For starters, I am not a writer, even though I like people to think I am, deep down there, I know that it was a not only a measly apple that killed the 7^th king of Nigeria. And I am not an economist. I am just a confused teenager with early onset of MPD and unlimited access to the internet. So, in the light of this, i really won't be surprised if you bowed out of this one before the next line.

Writing on “how to manage money or funds would have been and still is the last thing I will choose to do after dying. Just what Nigerian will write a book on how to become a perfect English gentleman? Who wants to volunteer to write on this subject? Not me. 

Even as I type our these words on my old HP brain-box, I can hear me asking me; You hediat! Why did you agree to do this? But alas, here I am, still banging out my thought like there is no tomorrow. *swallows*, I really don’t know how to do this and my heart is racing madly like an Okada with LASTMA on its tail. But then, I'm really not that dumb, and looking at the little bit of economics I did back at Abuleokere Grammar School, I should be able to put some things together. So this is how we’ll do it.

Instead of telling you how to manage your money, why don’t we talk about how to “unmanage” it? Well, don’t give me that look, wasting money is like the only am good at, so the equation is simple, if you don’t think I'm fit enough to be considered as a model, then congratulations to you because you won’t be overdrawing your account anytime soon.

So let’s get started. I will be telling you about 5 ways (for now) I thoughtlessly squander my pocket money, and just maybe I can help myself. Here you go:

• Open an account with GT Bank: Oh yeah, you’ve not seen wrong. And maybe you are wondering why that had to top my list. Well, maybe it’s just because that’s where it’s meant to be. And before you start thinking they charge massively on withdrawals, that’s not what I am talking about (though that will help in keeping your money). With no diss intended on my part, GTB has made withdrawing from ATM so easy that even if you don’t feel like withdrawing you might just be drawn to withdraw for the fun of it. Yours truly is a victim, since GTB knows how to position their ATMs such that one won’t help but say yes, my “allawi” has a way of running off of my account as early as it had gotten there. My advice is, if you really don’t want to be like me, an account with First Bank, Union Bank or Wema Bank would definitely suffice, withdrawing money from those banks is like facing SDC, I bet your “allawi” will have a longer vault life.

• Next;   Draw more money out of the ATM than you need: exactly; that’s one of the surest ways to empty your account. Well, that’s for those who had  while jumped ecstasy after reading the first tip; if you think all you have to do is just withdraw once from your Fantastic 3 Banks (First, Wema and Union) and it will take you through the week or month, *smh, bad news for you; the logic is, if you withdraw N2,000, you will spend N2, 000. If you get N20, 000, it will vanish just as promptly. (I wonder how I knew that *blank stare). Having said that, I hope you know all you have to do is the direct opposite.

• I think we’ve had enough of bank ranting, how about this one that constantly suffices in the Spendthrift School of Prodigality; Buy bottled water. You are at an higher of redding your account if you buy bottled water (I think Eva is the commonest around here), instead of the regular “pure” water that is often just a second cousin of Unilorin hostels chlorinated water. *slams palms to mouth*, I can’t believe I just said that, I thought I could hide it, well yeah; I am a Unilorin student maybe now you can know where am coming from.  So what now is the deal? I hear you ask; don’t be such a Pinky; do the direct opposite, don’t even buy water at all, what’s your saliva for?         

 
• And the next one making my list is the, Borrow - Borrow palaver; lending your money out to friends. Most of them never get to refund you. Maybe you can’t stop them from coming, but then, the ultimate decision still lies with you. You can choose to be like me because I can be such a sergeant-do-good and lose your money to unrepentant borrowers, or just do thing you really want to do; yes, keep your money in your pocket and forget about a giving a damn. Just maybe there is this dude or babe that just can’t stop borrowing your things or using your stuffs from your bathroom slippers to your shaving stick, and can even borrow tooth pick, well, I dunno what to say about that so if you really so want help out, just have it at the back of your mind that you’re giving to charity. 

• *heaves*, now that we have enough money to throw around, seeing how much we’ve saved. One way of losing it all up in a click is to Gamble in Vegas. Okay, maybe that’s a bit over the edge, but if you find your way to Las Veggy, be sure you are guaranteed to leave with only clinking teeth. Some of us get lucky *adjust halo*, but most others just leave feeling like reckless morons 

• This one is just added as a bonus, and maybe you’ve fallen into this temptation, but if you think your account is over-debited, try out for who wants to be millionaire. Nothing to talk about on this one, you just put the dots together so I don’t “spoil” business for MTN.

So those are some of the ways I squander my “allawi” month in month out. Definitely there are more to come, but let’s see how not making me your role model will help you in the next month. Remember, there is only one rule to saving your pocket; Hate my ways!!

Disclaimer:

*thinking - scratches – skull - till - it - bursts* I can’t come up with any for now, but note; I do not have any personal beef for any of the corporate names mentioned heretofore. So please, no law suits pleassse (abeg). And please don’t mind Funmi on this one, all he does is read read and read; nerdy scum.