I think that more than anything, I am always willing to create safe spaces where people can take their time around me and understand that growth is welcome here.
I think that more than anything, I am always willing to create safe spaces where people can take their time around me and understand that growth is welcome here.
It’s almost impossible to chase your dreams when you have so many responsibilities like rent, shelter and countless needs. That’s when the real dilemma begins. Our constant worry becomes how to create a sustainable income?
I have hit this roadblock so many times but today I realised something very important. I am truly happy. Chasing your dream might not put millions in your pocket but perseverance will.
Now, this topic has been covered by loads of people but I wanted to add a few points to it that you may not have considered before. If you’re at that point in your life where you feel stuck and are unfulfilled, then your beliefs about money are absolutely contributing to your unhappiness!
It’s easy to walk down the street and see so many people eating nice food, driving fancy cars, and dressing well, but what you can’t see is what they are like when they get home. Unfortunately, platforms like Instagram can easily give you the impression that everyone is living an amazing life – I hate to break it to you, but they’re not, in fact, most of us are chronically unhappy.
This is a great problem to have though because it’s easy to work on and the solutions are straightforward. The solutions will only work anyway if you have an open mind and have personally developed your brain over time (i.e: fed it with quality ideas and content).
This first one is my favourite because it is poorly understood. When you care about something a lot (like a dream), and you give it everything you have, you will eventually succeed. And guess what? When you succeed, you create value for other people, and that value can easily become money.
The fastest way to have money is to forget about making it and thinking about how you can create it. Creating money requires a big dream (something you’re passionate about) and a set of beliefs that makes you think you can achieve it.
The skills to achieve the dream can be acquired, so they are not a necessity, to begin with. Now, if you are thinking I am making it sound too simple, it’s because I am. I have always said success is simple but you have to start somewhere, and you must work on your mind every day.
Now, I probably shouldn’t say this but one thing I love about money is that it shows who people really are. If you lack the beliefs and mindsets to add value, then even if you win the lottery tomorrow, you will almost certainly lose everything.
That’s because once you have made money by achieving a dream (the real way), even if you lose everything the next day, you can rebuild it by following your passion. Rebuilding from nothing is not as hard because you know what it takes to do it, and all you have to do is do what you love again to build your wealth back.
It’s a strange feeling when you see someone who is rich and then the next day they have no money. It can happen so quickly, which is why you should always focus on your dream and everything else will fall into place.
The sad thing is that having lots of money actually doesn’t feel that good, in fact, there is no such thing as enough money – this is why dreams are more important. Working towards a dream feels amazing, and as you hit each milestone, it makes you fulfilled beyond your wildest dreams.
All of a sudden, you are achieving success at something that has the possibility to be your life’s work. When your dream becomes your life work, it gives you a sense of meaning that no amount of money can give you.
Now, have you ever seen someone who is angry, has lots of money and became happy, spent it, and the next week they are angry again? We all have, and that’s what money can do to you if you let it. I am not saying you should forget about money and waste it, just don’t let it be your focus.
“Let money be the sign from the universe that you are creating value for other people, not the measuring stick of your success or status in society”
Having a lot of money can make you feel great in the short term, but it will never give you unforgettable experiences. Yes, you can buy holidays or experiences but what you will quickly realise is that the people you are with are far more important than the experience itself.
You can do something as simple as a dinner party, and it can be the best night of your life not because of how much it costs to host, but because of the great people and stories you share. Also, when you have experiences that are paid for, there is no sense of purpose.
“When you have an experience as part of a dream you are chasing, it becomes a critical building block to the story and meaning of your life. Suddenly, every experience has its place, and you learn to love the negative experiences at the same time” – Tim Denning
Money can’t do this and will buy you experiences that on the surface seem perfect until you realise at the end that it wasn’t that great after all, and you have done something similar before.
A critical law of nature is that not all areas of your life can thrive at 100% all the time. As you watch the person walk down the street with big muscles, remember that it is because they focused all of their time and energy on one area of their life while other areas didn’t progress.
What you can’t see is that they may have no intimate relationship, they might have no savings, they could be very unhealthy, their career might be going nowhere, their car could be broken down – there are things that you can’t see, but I can guarantee they have had to give up something.
What are you prepared to give up for your own dream?
So, when you go after a dream just remember that there may be sacrifices and areas of your life that won’t grow, and you have to be prepared to make those sacrifices.
The reason I tell you all of this is because money is just like the person with the big muscles, it’s one area of a person’s life that can be going very well, but that is meaningless if all other areas are failing miserably.
Focus on your dream, stimulate the areas of your life that matter, and the “money thing” can tie all of this together when you eventually achieve your goal – assuming your goal will make you money.
Don’t forget that your money status is meaningless and people don’t care about how much money you have made. When Richard Branson walks into the room people are impressed by how many dreams he has accomplished, not by his money.
It’s the impossible tasks he has done, the person he has become and the way he gives back that make him successful. The more you fulfil your purpose, the more you achieve the impossible, the more you become obsessed with creating value, the higher your social status will be.
Walk into a bar and shout out to everyone that you have a million dollars in your bank account – no one will turn around or they will turn around to beg you for some. Walk into the same bar and tell people you just walked on the moon, and people will stand on their chairs and cheer you for the rest of your life.
I just got home and I am extremely knackered, I really need a foot rub and a bear hug. I absolutely hate this weather, it’s so fucking hot! I put the AC on blast and now I have to deal with this headache from sneezing and coughing all day. Damn! This flu be messing me up for days. Not sexy at all, I practically used up all the serviettes at Angle Villa today. Yeah, it was me.
I spent the whole day scripting the Christmas Episodes for Africa Magic Star Gist and simultaneously playing catch up with my goon Stephanie Ani.
I was seeing her for the second time this year as I went off the radar for more than a year and completely alienated myself from friends albeit not intentionally.
It’s amazing how much has changed in my little circle of friends and acquaintances. I log into my social media page to check my feeds and bang! Everyone I know has suddenly gone off to get married, posting wedding pictures ‘’upandan’’ all over my timeline and setting off to sunset with bae.
I notice baby pictures and friends in their third trimester’s, deaths, graduation pictures, NYSC postings and passing out’s, call to bar pictures, some really fashionable friends with hair, eyebrows and ass on fleek travelling business class to…
I’m cheesing so hard because I’m happy at the turn of events for a few dear friends. It’s amazing how much time has passed since we dragged our hair about bae and wondered who the hell he was and why he was taking so long and letting us do the rounds called dating.
Here I was chatting with Stephanie and laughing so hard it hurt. Filling up the days and months gone by with marathon information and juicy gossip and I realized like old wine, we had matured so much and gone on to really fend for ourselves with our brains and God-given talents. We were suddenly self-reliant and getting it but we weren’t there yet. We agreed on two most important things to have in your purse in Lagos; PLANNING AND PACKAGING.
I had this media outfit that I consulted for, I came in highly recommended to handle their PR. When it came to discussing my fee, I shot myself in the leg and asked for a fee that I comfortably earned in a month. I negotiated to be paid that for 3 months. I have not been able to come up with a good reason for that decision.
I drew up an agreement, advised them on the necessity to do aggressive marketing specifically targeting small start-ups as juxtaposed to a one-off paid publicity on blogs and newspapers.
I was so sincere that I kept dishing out advice, I even agreed to a bit of marketing to prove my point.
Few weeks later, the PR job was taken from me and given to somebody else who didn’t do jack and I was asked to please focus on marketing for the company. I figured they realized PR wasn’t necessary at the moment which was what I saw from the beginning and told them. I lost that money for being frank and solved their major issue without being paid for it. They really didn’t need popularity they needed clients.
Our signed agreement was completely disregarded and I was pushed into marketing. I remember being handed a thousand naira note for marketing in Lekki, Admiralty way to be precise.
I was too eager to prove that I was good at my job that I took a bike from the beginning of Admiralty to the end sharing flyers.
I got them a major client and after that I never went back. I see their calls and I don’t even bother to raise my fingers.
I knew I sold myself short because I didn’t think I could earn more. It irked me to no end that I was working so hard for so little because I left the comfort of a salaried job to pursue my own thing.
That experience made me realize that I needed to take myself more seriously, the fact that I did not plan and package myself cost me money and my reputation, which brings me back to my discussion with Stephanie. It was really hilarious but it was such a serious issue and an eye-opener and I thought I should share.
Here’s some of the scoop from our chin-wag;
‘’Mehn, these guys know when you’re struggling, it’s so embarrassing. The other day, I was going to the office of my client. I came down from one damaged danfo and I was trekking into Lekki to pick a bike from this particular street to the office, see sweat. I had my heels in my bag and I was wearing a flip-flop, as soon as I mounted the bike, I saw my client driving out of the street. He saw me on a fucking bike Stephanie!. That was the beginning of my one thousand naira transportation money ordeal.’’ I narrated.
She laughed so much, it wasn’t even funny.
I continued my rant, ‘’to survive in Lagos ehn, you must have a car oh. It’s not even a luxury, it’s a necessity. I remember hearing one of my former employee, tell his IT guy, ‘’you col yaself a profeshonal and you don’t aff a car. If you see his mouth as he said that ehn, you will cry for this consultant. It was derogatory. Mscheew’’
Need I tell you that my former colleague was bad ass at his job? They just never agreed when it came to fees. He knew he deserved better but because he didn’t have a car, he got less than his true worth.
I swear, you must plan and package yourself, no loose ends else you risk looking like a struggle.’’
‘’My dear, you simply cannot carry a Hermes bag and jump molue or Marwa. Oh! Please. Contact Uber, they are cheaper than regular taxi’s’’ Stephanie said.
She had the UBER app and we had gone to the Palms and Angle Villa in UBER style. I must say, I was really impressed with their services but in my head I’m thinking. So, I should be spending my salary on UBER. Look at this girl oh. Biko, my bus is cheaper than UBER until I get a car.
Stephanie kept dishing, ‘’you cannot go for a business meeting dressed down. You must baff yourself with a conversation starter perfume. Make sure your hair is something close to FunmiHair. No cheap weaves please. Try some braids instead’’
‘’I swear Stephanie!’’ I screamed in excitement, I was getting so excited with the conversation, someone was finally getting me.
I continued, ‘’…Your wristwatch should be able to tell your worth too. Just make sure something on your body is extremely expensive either your shoe, bag, hair, perfume, jewellery or clothes.’’
As a make-up artiste, Stephanie was quick to interject, ‘’Please, take your time with your make up. Guys really know when you are struggling with fashion and it makes for an epic flop in business meetings.’’
‘’Hmmm…If I didnt know you Stephanie, I would really doubt that I am having this conversation with you. So you get brain like this?’’ I teased her.
She laughed again.
‘’Ya mad!’’ she replied and continued, ‘’…Appearance is key o!. Better to look too expensive than cheap. Your services can be priced down from merely looking at your appearance no matter how talented and skilled you are. There is no room for slacking, you must either bring it or else you’ll forever struggle and live below your worth.’’
‘’Yes o! That reminds me, you know this saying, Dress like your employer or even better in whichever industry you find yourself. It’s so spot on.’’ I concluded.
‘’Another thing is being too familiar with your boss or client.’’ It suddenly dawned on me that this could be a deal breaker.
‘’…you think they are being nice when they ask you some personal questions. Lai lai, they just want to know your worth. Better think again before you give them that sob story about coming from a poor home and living in Iyana Ipaja with your family. Please don’t say that. Watch what you say and do not get too close or familiar with business associates if you are still faking it. See finish is very real o! You must keep up the packaging if not you will just fall hand. You can’t do that biko. Keep to your lane and fake it until you make it or better still, call forth the things that are not as though they were. ‘’
‘’My girl!’’ Stephanie screamed. ‘’I swear, it’s true.
‘’…Ehen! Another thing is how to spend your money’’, Stephanie said, ‘’If you make money, please don’t be stingy to yourself, buy something tangible. If you don’t, you’ll be surprised you cannot keep track or explain what you actually did with the money. I have noticed it for myself’’
‘’True. It happens to me a lot.’’ I agreed.
‘’ I think it’s so valuable to invest in one’s appearance and knowledge. They will definitely bring you more money and connections.’’ I said perfunctorily.
After a small pause, Stephanie dropped it on me from nowhere,
‘’ Chidiadi, you need to get out more o!. Attend events, house warmings, weddings, birthdays, church, launches, conferences, take yourself out to fancy restaurants, buy a bottle of soft drink and nuts and consume their wi-fi.’’
Ooops where did that come from. I go out na.
‘’Okay, I will ma. I need client’s biko, I just know all the things I need to do but I never do them.
If going out will bring me more jobs then I better be ready to pay compliments as I go’’ I replied
Quite interesting right?
Anyway, compliments are very necessary. Be quick to pay compliments to strangers whilst you are at it. It’s the easiest way to endear yourself to people, start a conversation and ultimately open up your circle of friends. Who knows, you might just land a business deal from mere referrals.
Living and making it in Lagos is simply excessive pretentious lifestyle maintained on a very high budget. You must first plan and then package.
Stop complaining and wishing for fancy clothes and weaves. Work and focus on the very things that can get you what you want. This is not the time for wishful thinking, this is the time for paying the price for the things and the life you want because you will definitely get it if you pay your dues. So, work hard at school, that job, your talent, acquire more skills. It could be your only ATM to cashing out your dreams into reality.
Sometimes, I really wish I was more sensible. Please we need more tips on how to survive in Lagos. Share your experiences if you have ever felt that if you had packaged more, you would have gotten more.
These words “Stay hungry, stay foolish” by late Steve Jobs is a recurrent part of my daily grind. It keeps me moving, never settling, never on snooze, refusing to be or seem ignorant and always looking out for my Aha! Moments.
“Stay hungry, stay foolish”, is a beautiful creative gab simply reiterating and encouraging determination tinged with a flaming desire. Its all the gasoline one needs to create a bonfire.
I believe that to stay hungry and foolish absolutely drives knowledge and births a chain reaction of successes because you will never be a success until you desire a thing strongly, hungrily and fight foolishly to achieve it.
Achievement is a sweet, tasty cocktail with toppings of enlightenment served in a wine glass of knowledge, every sip is an Aha! Moment, evoking thoughts of success.
To achieve is to desire, to hunger, to thirst, to acquire, to know and finally to transfer knowledge. You should never get to the point where you stop wanting to achieve.
So there! Now I’m hungry.
Hold that thought. Fruit punch in view.
Sure, you dread Mondays more than the Lagos traffic, and yes you need three cups of coffee before you can even allow your colleagues to so much as look at you, but that’s normal, right?
Well, what if I told you Mondays aren’t the problem and Brenda from HR isn’t either.
The undeniable fact is that you hate your job and probably need a new one. A new one that’s your only hope.
See how many of the following “I hate my job” symptoms are true to you:
From the moment you open your eyes, you are already counting down the 14 hours until you’ll be back in your bed again.
By the time you actually emerge from under your duvet, you’re 30 minutes behind schedule and you have already decided you’re not wearing makeup or doing your hair today.
On the plus side, your boss is so used to you being late every morning, and you’re pretty sure he thinks your working hours are 9:45 to 5:30 now.
You spend the majority of the working day sending ranting texts to each other from five feet apart or gossiping with a mutual frenemy. ‘’The enemy of my enemy is my friend’’
“FML,” “Lord give me strength” and “I don’t get paid enough for this sh*t,” are the basis of all your text conversations.
You have also started playing the lottery and looking to marry up.
Since keeping your job is the new pay raise, you have to think outside the box when it comes to raising funds.
In fact, your office hours spent web surfing is getting out of hand.
When asked to do something, you may look up from your online shopping basket and say, “Can you drop me an email about it please?”
But, what you really mean is, “I’m going to need another three coffees before I’m fully functional.
Send me an email and if I can be bothered, I’ll do it later.”
When your boss asks you to do something, you reply with, “I’m just in the middle of an important email, I’ll be with you in 10.”
You then casually continue your application process.
More precious than your family, more precious than your friends and more precious than those shoes you spent half of last month’s pay on.
You constantly congratulate yourself on getting through another month of work.
Most of your exchanges hold a sarcastic undertone. Sometimes you remember to smile so he or she can think you’re joking, sometimes you don’t.
You find his or her feelings about you to be somewhat inconsequential anyway.
After all, what’s the worse he could do? Fire you? You should be so lucky.
Tea or Coffee to help you face the day and wine to help you forget it.
Especially since your entire relationship with every single member of staff is based on you being too sober to tell them what you actually think of them.
Plus, you already spend eight unwanted hours of the day with these morons; not even alcohol can persuade you to prolong that.
You’d much rather go home, make a cup of tea and seek comfort in the fact another day is over.
But here’s the thing: The average person spends about half of his or her waking life at work.
So, by this logic, if you hate your job, you hate your life.
If you’re unhappy, perhaps it’s time to find a new job that better suits your interests and skills.
Or, if you can’t manage that, at the very least find one that pays well enough that you couldn’t hate it even if you tried.
If you told me years ago that I’d chop off my hair, I would have called you crazy. You didn’t need to tell me; I knew my dark brown hair was nothing close to stunning. It was like the cursed fig tree.
It was thin but soft, and it ran down my back like a music note.
In the sunlight, natural highlights of red and orange would come about. It smelled delicious. I loved it and everyone knew it. My hair was my pet. My hair was everything I mentioned above but only in my dreams
But as ridiculous as it were, I had to fix nice weaves and rock expensive hair extensions that robbed me off scarce naira notes. Life changed and I changed. At first, I only thought it, but by the time I decided to cut it, I was fearless.
It was new-year day 2013, my sister and I decided we had to put our best faces out there; new year, new beginnings. That kain tin. We got to the salon, I couldn’t decide on a hairstyle or maybe I did ‘’I want to cut my hair’’ I blurted out
‘’Jesus! Chidiadi! Be serious biko! You are too spontaneous’’ my sister screamed.
“But I am serious. Get rid of it,” I told the hairdresser.
‘’Are you sure?’’ she asked.
First of all, when I am being very unserious, it is usually the opposite I AM DEAD SERIOUS. When I look or sound serious, it means that I am stressed, anxious, nervous or desperate to do something.
Well, I unseriously paid for a serious hair-cut.
There was no post-traumatic shock and no crying, just a bunch of hair on the ground that needed to be cleaned up. That was two years ago, I only wore my natural hair once during my son’s dedication.
Well, I decided to add some colour to it. HELL! I screamed when I saw my hair.
What followed was the remarkable part. I knew my coworkers would compliment me as a courtesy whether they liked my hair or not.
You know, the perfunctory, “I love it,” and “It makes you look young.” Shaddup.
But then, I started to notice something: Way too many people were calling me “brave.” Really? For cutting my hair and colouring it?
To me, someone brave was someone going through some sort of serious health issues like cancer or ALS.
Don’t get me wrong; I liked the compliment, but I just didn’t think it was appropriate for someone in my situation.
Brave?. It was also how they said it that miffed me. Women I hadn’t spoken to in months suddenly text me to start up the hair conversation. “Did you cut your hair’’ ‘’I wish I had the guts to do that.” “I could never pull that off.”
I got the impression these women had been thinking of cutting off their hair for years, and I was the symbol of the brave soul who did it.
It made me think, “Ladies, what’s stopping ya?” Haircuts are painless and accessible to the masses. Why the hesitation? I learned why.
Here’s what I learnt:
Hair. Men. They love it. I knew this before, but after chopping off my hair, holy cow. Men love their women with long, porn-star hair.
I had two male coworkers at the time and both responded, in essentially the same way, “I like it…” followed by, “But I liked your hair longer.”
They looked at me and missed the woman I was, that somehow, without my long hair, I was less desirable. It was like all of a sudden, without that pet on my head, I wasn’t so sexy — maybe even less of a woman.
And then, it hit me. I realized just how important hair was to me; it even impacted my daily decisions.
In pictures, I always made sure I posed with my long hair in front of my shoulders. My hair was always down.
When my Dad told me to cut it, I refused. It wasn’t until now that I realized how much my hair and relationships had made my decisions for me. One man even told me I would “asexualize” myself if I cut my hair shorter. What the hell?
Youth. Beauty. Being thin. Speaking with a borrowed accent. There’s no getting around it; society sets a standard and we do, too.
Ever wonder why no matter what country you are from, news anchors have the same accent?
But is long hair in that same category? Having cut mine off, I’d say yes, it most definitely is. I can’t tell you how many times I was questioned, “why?!” when someone first saw me.
I was treated as if there was something wrong with me and my judgment for making the conscious decision to off my own hair. Others just gave me a sad look.
“Don’t worry, before you know it, it will grow back,” I could read from their eyes.
It seemed unthinkable for me to willingly cut off my hair. I found myself having conversations to try and convince people that I wasn’t mentally ill.
Yes, I just cut off my hair, now beat it!
Men will tell you not to cut it. They’ll plead with you like you’re holding a knife to their members. It made me rethink the entire gender, really.
And marriage, too. Another comment I heard a lot on this journey was, “My husband would kill me.” Really? Over hair?
What if you have a terrible accident? Cancer? Third-degree burn? I thought marriage was for better or for worse, not until you cut off your gorgeous hair.
This wasn’t just a male thing. Women in equal numbers, although much less tenacious, tried to persuade me to keep my hair, which had grown to my shoulders in my dream by that point.
My hairdresser baulked as she held my shoulder length hair in her hand and proclaimed, “Are you sure!”
It was in that moment that I laughed and put my finger on her face, “Hian! Is it your hair? I’m paying you to do this, so do it!” My short hair journey had more impact than I thought; I was more confident, more demanding and I loved it.
After she gave me the pixie haircut I asked for, it hit me hard. I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t miss my long hair.
Like a warm blanket, hair provides comfort and security that is sorely missed after it’s gone. I was terrified I wouldn’t look hot enough, I became very self-conscious.
Maybe I was wrong about the society and hair part. It seems like everywhere I look, short, even grey hair is popular.
Miss Jamaica looked sexy AF with short hair as she sashayed like a boss at the Miss USA pageant.
Sister girl, Lupita Nyong’o is one black-bad ass chick with the right attitude about her hair.
India Arie has been rocking it a long time, it’s grown longer now and Jennifer Lawrence invents a new short hairstyle every day.
It wasn’t until recently that I fell in love with my short hair. Long hair or short hair, it’s still me. I remain constant.
After all, it’s me who’s there for myself in my dark and difficult times, not the long hair, the short hair, the man, you or anybody.
So, when I get asked, “Don’t you want a man who knows you better than you know yourself?” I would say it’s not possible. Sure, you may know, but not more than me.
It’s an unrealistic expectation, really. What I do expect, however, is that you love every millimetre of me, including my hair. I want you fawning and salivating when you look at me.
After all, I’m still the same girl.
As a champion enabler and encourager, I’ve been feeling really down in the dumps lately. I’ve been all shades of bored, constantly tired, alone, insecure, scared and uninspired by life.
Going to work is a drag, I basically have to give myself motivational speeches every morning, I can’t be bothered with my appearance and I was desperately in need of fireworks.
Well, I had to create my own fire crackers but not until I sat down to figure out the reason I felt like a squeezed cup under the bleacher. The truth is, I was finding it difficult to forgive a certain person and you know‘One forgives to the degree that one loves. I try to forget so that I can forgive but there is a wind inside of me that remembers: sometimes in breaths, sometimes in hurricanes.
I am a pro in acting like I don’t care but acting like you don’t care is not letting go and letting go is the T junction that leads you down the right road. It is the throttle that propels you forward towards forgiveness and ultimately moving on.
So, I am standing at the T junction alone, scared, distrusting, sceptical, wounded and I realized I’ve been standing there the whole time clutching my preconceived pain, my hurt, betrayal, seeking revenge and refusing to move forward.
Heck, I must have looked really laughable pretending like I was actually moving, like I was walking but all the while standing so still and refusing to move. Yeah, I reply ‘’hellos’’ cheerfully and smile like my chin is about to finally propose to my ears.
I hate myself because I always tell myself the blunt truth, so I’m crying in the middle of the night asking in my heart‘’ Just how do I move on because I absolutely need to?’’ but my head won’t budge, it kept reminding me why I shouldn’t and I am screaming, ‘’I don’t want to take a step!!!!!!!!! I want to stand right here until I get my pound of flesh because I am going to.’’
Yet I am exhausted, I am tired of being angry, this load of unforgiveness is turning me into a hunched back-revengeful-unsmiling-evil plotting woman and I don’t know this person anymore.
Yes, I need to but the irony is, I am the one who needs to forgive myself. I do not need to forgive anyone, I am not God. What I need to do is to forgive myself. So, I have cried and rehashed what happened, how did it happened, what did I do wrong, how did I cause this and I have reached my closure. THE PRICE HAS BEEN PAID, I have paid the price for my mistake and I won’t beat up myself anymore.
So, I forgive you Chidiadi Ihechiluru Madumere, you are so stupid and you will get everything you want, just not when you want it okay?
I let my friend convince me to add colour to my natural hair. Yes I am rocking ombrenaturalhaircolour, it’s different. I like DIFFERENT, I feel like a brand new me. I definitely feel better and yes I have taken a step.
Being Chidiadi, is not a shallow place to write from. The need to constantly reinvent myself, sheer tenacity in the face of approaching disaster, cruel disappointments, glaring failure, truck load of baggage, unending demands, love, revenge…things fuel my desire to write.
Now, I never said I wanted a smooth sailing, hell no, I will always be a tsunami, chaos, beauty and brains intertwined, a tornado of roses from divine expecting nothing from no one.
We ruin everything when we start expecting things from people. I get it, whatever I want I get it for myself, even if I have to bleed and I have bled because I never expect, I wish more than I expect but who says you ever need planning to build castles in the air? Expecting things to be done for me or for someone to do or give me something has always been a complete waste of my time.
I do not put my happiness in other people’s hands. Try not to. They’ll drop it, they drop it every time. I do, there is no shame here. You do too.
If you have to force it, just leave it alone. Relationships, friendships, ponytails…Just leave it and never expect.
Expectations limit your willpower to control your happiness.
Love has been talked about and written about since the beginning of time, only a few truly grasp the true meaning of love. LOVE IS LIFE, LIFE IS LOVE.
Love has a whole new meaning for me now.
There will be no you without love. There was a force of attraction between two opposite genders, they made a choice to be with each other, and they allowed the law of passion to take over, which is commitment, the will to do whatever it takes to be there for each other thereby forcing LOVE into action. Love gave them you. It’s that simple.
You give love, you receive love. What you give is what you get. Without LOVE there would be no homes, cities, banks, doctors, medicines. No human creation would be here without LOVE. Somebody had to love money to create a bank, somebody had to love the idea of making money to think of saving it.
Yes. LOVE IS THE FORCE THAT MOVES YOU. Think about it, everything you want to be, do, or have comes from love. You gotta love it to have it.
Love has its own laws just like the law of gravity, law of physics and all the other laws you know. These laws must be in place for LOVE to work.
Number one is law of ATTRACTION
Attraction is the force that draws people to other people, people to cities, clubs, societies etc. It is the force that pulls one person to writing and another to cooking. You wouldn’t be attracted to another person, a particular city, house, car, job, music, clothes or anything if you don’t feel attracted to it. It is through the force of attraction that you feel love.
The force of attraction is the force of love. Attraction is LOVE.
Number two is CHOICE
Whether you realize it or not, every day of your life- every moment of your life- you make a CHOICE, the choice to harness love’s positive force; the choice to be happy, to be rich, to marry, to succeed and whatever you decide you want.
Love is the cause of all the good things in your life, and a lack of love is the cause of all the negative things, all the pains and sufferings. Whenever you make a positive choice, you choose LOVE.
Number three is PASSION
If you are interested you will do what is convenient, if you are committed you will do whatever it takes. PASSION is whatever it takes.
You must be passionate about music to create it. You must be passionate about transferring knowledge to teach. You must passionate about learning to go to school.
PASSION is love and LOVE is PASSION.
The result of combining all the laws of love is everything positive and good.
So now, I think of myself as a magnet attracting everything I want by just positively emanating love. I emit love for the universe, for the next person, for good health, for wealth, for everything and it comes right back to me.
I AM LOVE.
I am back baby! *wink.
So office politics is really intriguing. A lot of competition and hear say. So I HEARD, you know how you hear things. Well, that is how I heard o! but I won’t tell you what I heard.
I really wanted to be bothered but it did not happen. So I simply asked the young lady ‘’Why are you telling me this?’’ and she replied , ’’I just want you to know what people are saying about you’’
‘’Great idea! The ear that hears too much, talks to much’’ And she goes, ‘’Wow!, I hope you are not offended?’’
I laugh in Ibeku, ‘’My dear, if I feel bad about it then it is too sad. It means that I have not learnt anything at all. It is my responsibility to take care of myself as an adult and if people hurt me and make me feel bad about myself then it is largely my own fault. Listen, once someone has shown a tendency to be anything but nice to you, you need to recognize that and take care of yourself; people aren’t going to change simply because you want them to. ”
The look on her face after the speech though? Lol. But, c’mon, I do not pay attention to flies on faeces anymore, clear the faeces and watch what happens.
That’s some wisdom from going through childbirth with no accessory on my finger. I’m sorry what did you HEAR again?
Welcome back people.
Hello Black purists! Long-time yeah? I have truly missed you guys and I hope you all are doing great?
Well, I am just going through a reality check and this is a very short post.
if anything is possible then technically everything I want should be possible right?
What about all the other possibilities? The ones we never see when we are young, but are there all along.
The possibility that after burning the midnight candle and majoring in a particular field you might never land your idea of a dream job. Yes, you will never work in NNPC, NLNG, Shell, Chevron etc.
The future is not bright, somebody lied. It is, as a matter of fact UNCERTAIN. Of course you won’t be earning a million bucks. Actually, you will pick a number and join the queue of frustrated school leavers in Nigeria hoping and believing that ‘’ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE’’. E go better.
Okay, let’s say you finally Quit on your dream JOB and then you go for just anything, anything at all is better than sitting at home and that decision earns you fifty thousand naira every month or even two hundred thousand. Aside from asking ‘’For how long?’ and being at your best behaviour so you do not get fired.
Now, you have to pay your rent,
Furnish your apartment,
Buy a car,
Build your dream house,
Pay your bills,
And still be broke you cannot even afford to transport yourself to work.
And if you are married with kids, that is another ball game.
Then, there is the possibility of being owed salary and other possibilities too numerous to mention.
One day, you wake and say to yourself, I didn’t chose this. And then you spend a long time thinking, but did I?
Of course, it does not end like this for certain people and yes, you know you what you want, but the thing about getting older is that you don’t need anything to be possible. You just need something’s to be CERTAIN.
Pamela and Ejura had purchased tickets for “The Crash Concert” happening that night at the Eko Hotel and Suites, Victoria Island, Lagos. It was one of those balmy Lagos nights only some days to Christmas.
Every Tom, Dick and Harry aspired to attend exclusive shows like that perhaps to impress the media and be on the front pages of every fashion magazine.
Pamela wondered what people like; Nkiru Anumudu, Eku Edewor, Tiwa Savage, Omawunmi Akinnifesi, Michelle Dede, Zara Okpara, Ene Lawani, Linda Ikeji, etcetera would wear to the event.
She could almost visualize the weekend magazines as she picked out a comfortable black jump suit from her closet.
Asides all the revelries going on in Lagos that year, Ejura and Pamela chose “The Crash Concert” because all their favorite music artistes were billed to perform. Pamela had suggested going to watch R Kelly at the “Star Mega Jam” but Ejura thought otherwise.
“Which kain R Kelly? Abeg, abeg, abeg! Na Lagos party over any International artiste anytime, anyday oh! Pam” Ejura said in her usual animated quarrelsome manner, rotating her head and gesticulating with both hands and feet.
“Easy jare! I was only stating our options, no need for the epileptic attack” Pamela pursed her lips and rolled her eyes at Ejura. She was with Ejura on the “Lagos gbedu” she just hated the way Ejura went about making her point.
They agreed to convene at Ejura’s place on the mainland in Surulere, then go from there to the show. Pamela packed a sleep-over bag, her accessories, shoe and purse and got dressed in her black jump suit outfit.
Ejura will style my hair and apply my make-up for me, Pamela thought to herself, as she stole a final glance in the mirror before dashing out. Ejura was Pamela’s go-to person for hair and make-up. Pamela never recognizes her face after Ejura weaves her magic. The thought of being transformed into a fairytale Cinderella warmed Pamela’s cheeks, working it into a big smile.
The event was slated for 8pm and at 6:45 pm, Pamela was already at Ejura’s place but as usual Ejura alias “Betty Buzz Kill” was not ready. As a matter of fact, she was yet to hit the bathtub. Ejura looked laughable in her lemon shaded house coat. Her face was plastered with Neutrogena Visibly Clear 2-in-1 facial mask. Her hair was in a rainbow colored bendy rollers. She reminded Pamela of a petite version of Madea.
“Ejura! What rubbish is this now? Can’t you ever keep to time? I won’t wait for you for more than 30 minutes oh!” Pamela avowed helplessly. Ejura has never been one to keep to time. Pamela calculated it would take her nothing less than 2 hours to prime herself seeing that she had not showered yet.
She rolled her eyes as Ejura hurriedly scampered into the bathroom to wash off the facial mask on her face. Pamela heard her shout from the bathroom.
“Calm down jor! Your blood too dey hot! …Na you wan open the show for them ni?”
Pamela rolled her eyes again and shook her head for added effect. She was on a slow burn.
She looked for a place to sit down in Ejura’s all white bedroom. Ejura’s room was unnervingly too sanitary for its own good and it held an unhospitable appeal to her friends. The room smelt like scouring powder and Dettol.
Crisp white’s and neutrals flowed through her room, it could well pass off as the color scheme. Her wall painting was pure white, same as her beddings, fluffy white pillows, sheer curtains, drapes and cushions. Not one artwork.
The whole ball of wax screamed, “Don’t touch!! Don’t sit.” The flooring was about the only thing that was not white. It was a hard wooden floor but Pamela couldn’t help noticing the white center rug.
She decided it was better to stand.
She skimmed through the uncluttered room for the outfit of the night. She thought, if Ejura had brought it out, it would be on the bed or in her closet but she did not see anything.
She threw open Ejura’s cubby hole full of neatly arranged work clothes but she did not see any outfit that looked most likely prone for the evening. Rather she noticed Ejura had painstakingly arranged her daily work clothes so at least she does not go to work late.
Ejura works with a popular Lagos radio station as an intern.
Pamela closed back Ejura’s wardrobe door, careful not to push down the organized mountain of personal belongings just beside it.
This must be a joke, Pamela thought to herself.
“Ejura? Where’s your outfit?” She shouted warily, dreading the answer.
“E dey for inside one of those boxes…I’ve been arranging my room since morning. I never chose any clothe. Abeg naa, help me bring down the boxes one after the other. Suffery…Suffery oh!” She screamed her answer so casually in her usual Pidgin English. Pamela felt like opening the bathroom door and punching her right in the face.
She glanced dreadfully at Ejura’s stack of boxes some of which were almost touching the ceiling and marveled at which contained her outfit for the evening.
“Ah! Mschew!” Pamela groaned. “…Please, you don’t have light, I don’t want to start sweating. When you’re done, come and it bring it down yourself. Except you turn on your generator sha”
“You never ready to go anywhere oh madam” Ejura threatened.
“You’ll turn it on eventually” Pamela laughed mirthlessly.
Pamela shrugged of the nagging feeling that Ejura might have an anxiety disorder called “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder” OCD. She always felt that way about Ejura whenever she was in her space. Pamela couldn’t help turning over the symptoms of OCD in her head.
Ejura washes and rinses her clothes at least 5 times before laying them out to dry. She could take a whole day to tidy up her room and she would do it to the point of exhaustion, Ejura would never give out her clothes even when it is clearly no longer her size, she would rather hoard, thereby piling up boxes of unwanted clothes.
Pamela often teased her about it. One time after watching her go through the same meticulous ordeal, Pamela screamed at her, “Jesus, Get over yourself Ejura!”
After her usual response of laughing, she starts to reel Pamela with stories about her habit, what her mother thinks, what her brother says and how her father tells her she took after him.
“This one really thinks OCD is a badge of honor oh… Enyi! You have a serious anxiety problem. It is called Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. EJURA, GET HELP! Inukwa, I take after my father. You’re not serious!” Pamela gasped, utterly shocked at her apparent ignorance.
Pamela was all set to blow her top now. Ejura’s pace was similar to that of a millipede. She was snaking her way through the priming.
It took her exactly two hours alright.
I have often wondered why “THE LESS PRIVILEGED” feel that they are really less privileged.
It bothers me that they form an association and term themselves “Destitutes” heavily relying on begging as their only means of livelihood.
Isn’t there something else they can do asides begging?
“DO THEY COUNT?”
“DO THEY VOTE?”
“DO THEY HAVE A VOICE IN THIS COUNTRY?
“WILL THEY BE HEARD IF THEY SPEAK?”
What better way to find out? Ifeoma and I thought about it for days and then we decided to find out.
The rain could not deter us. Ifeoma and I set out for Ebute Metta under the heavy rain, jumping Marwa, drained and almost getting pissed off.
Ifeoma had to walk away from me just to avoid getting mad. I almost thought of going back, I kept wondering if it was worth the stress.
The residents of OKOBABA, a place in Ebute Metta, saturated with lepers, the blind, the disabled and all sorts of physical impaired people were more than eager to help by lending their voice.
“They are our daughters and sisters. We are Northerners and we pray for them everyday. Anything you want us to do, we will do”. Their Emir said.
This has been one of the most fulfilling things we’ve ever done. The urge to believe in the power of “THE LESS PRIVILEGED”
The believe in the equality of all human beings. Privileged or not.
The believe that everyone has a voice.
And the believe that no man should be judged by standards that man has imparted.
We hope that their voices do count. We appreciate their willingness to join this campaign.
And we pray that our girls’ return to us soon.
#Ifeoma Acho# and #Chidiadi Madumere#
I have pondered long enough on this topic to know just exactly how it works. Each time I think about it, a wise saying always comes to mind, ‘’NOBODY KNOWS HOW THE WATER GOT INTO THE COCONUT’’.
This proverb makes me smile, I really don’t know why… I guess it makes me feel like I COULD be a secret sniper *wink* if I want… and I’d be the only one who knew.
Enough said, I am of the school thought that one needs to share personal experiences to help one another come to clarity once in a while. Like they say, EXPERIENCE IS THE BEST TEACHER.
However, I worry about how much is too much to share? Idle gist about one’s life and experiences could be damaging in the wrong hands. I could go on and on about how these happened to me and how that didn’t happen without really minding who exactly I was talking to, FRIEND OR FOE?
If or NOT, my personal experience should be kept a SECRET. I cringe at the thought that I might have had diarrhoea of the mouth in my bid to be some sort of inspiration, haha!.
BEING THERE. DONE THAT. I HAVE A BADGE. A lot of us feel that way most of the time, like we need to direct someone but then again that opens you up to criticisms, judgements, envy, hate or the reverse could be the case.
Personally, I think that before anyone ventures on sharing some personal details, it should pass through a few tests.
1. HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH TO SHARE?
Imagine this scenario,
‘’your sister was raped!!! Oh my! I’m so sorry… please take it easy on yourself, I know how it feels. My mother was raped by my half-brother. ‘’
And if there’s someone else listening to this pep-talk, the person goes, without pretty much saying it out,
‘’What kind of family is that?’’
‘’My brother will never marry from this family. GOD FORBID. Not even anybody I know’’
I bet you, this third person will tell a fourth.
2. TRY NOT TO ILLICIT ENVY.
‘’My boyfriend is so annoying, we live together but I feel like I’m living alone. Can you imagine, I get to fetch water while my boyfriend plays PS 4!!!’’
‘’What? Tony knows better than that, in fact he’s like my handy man and to top it all, he baths me.’’
And the third person listener just thinks out loud,
‘’Really? Did you have to rub it in? N a wa oh! Mscheeeew.’’
Don’t be amazed when your handy-man becomes someone else’s.
3. DON’T BE A KNOW – IT- ALL.
MISS I WANT TO QUIT.
I feel like quitting this relationship, men will always be a complete douche bag’’
‘’ I’ve told you over and over girl, I know MEN, I know how they think and behave. Heck! I have 7 brothers and I’ve been married thrice! QUIT!!!.
And the third person listener thinks out loud,
How much world of good has that done you, asides trying to pick and analyse everything that a man does. Better don’t mind her MISS I WANT TO QUIT. Misery loves company.
4. DON’T GIVE ROOM FOR IDLE GOSSIP.
MISS I FEEL LIKE CRAP.
I feel so bad getting rid of my baby. I did it the first time and I swore I would never do it again.
OMG!! You had an abortion? How could you? But you didn’t tell me. Why?
And the third person thinks,
She didn’t tell you? Hell! She should have invited you to the banging party, maybe it would have been a jolly threesome.
Na wa oh! Mirabel and Stacy must hear this!! I just hope this one has not removed all her babies oh. Hmmmmm!’’
So, just how much is too much to share?
Hi guys, I know I’ve been MIA for some months now and I’m deeply sorry. This is my first blog for the month and I hope to make it as short as possible.
Very often in life, we see ourselves standing at the shorelines waiting patiently for the tide to come right back. It certainly will and who knows what it might bring…sea shells or crabs.
The beach is definitely my FAVORITE place to hang out in the world, especially when I feel down and out like ‘’Oh! I’ll never get past this situation’’
I simply just stroll down the shore and I watch the periodic rise and fall of the waters. The sinusoidal pattern between levels of maximum high tides and minimum low tides.
The miracle is almost always instant knowing how impatient I can be with the miracle of day and night. Watching the tide move farther away from the shore reminds me that God can answer any prayer within seconds/minutes.
I feel a surge of hope when the tide rises, filling in, gathering a momentum of waves pushing towards a common direction, to the shore, to me, to where I stand.
It just reminds me that no matter what, THE TIDE WILL ALWAYS COME RIGHT BACK TO THE SHORE. IT’S A CERTAINTY.
Hope this helps some, cheers!!!