Spicing It Up

Evening all. How were the inawos, and the Asalatus and the Church service(s). Mine was good too, thanks for asking.

I'm going to shamelessly admit, after weeks of ardent self-deception that I was just trying my hands at blogging until I earn my degree...that this shi has got to me and now I'm emotionally attached to what I do in my spare time. Its just exciting. Its become like an extension of me; an appendage of sorts & I must say its well and truly awesome. Its morale boosting.

Its 5days since my last post and it almost feels like its been too long. Has it? I don't know but a friend told me today that "o ya wehrey ni, oo ni post nkan mi ni?". Feels good to know some people actually look forward to my new posts. Knowing that, dare I not make my entries excellent and well worth the wait?!

I've been racking my brain, thinking of what I could add to my blog to spice it up a little. I came up with an idea and I wanna run it by you people: I intend to provide betting tips to football games. I plan to post these tips on Fridays and it'll be humorous, well-researched, informative and generally worth the while. More on this later.

This week, I'm gonna post a book review, a betting tip on Friday and anything that comes up in between. Apologies for not posting something earlier..its a holistic thing for me, and I don't want to post just to make up the numbers when I'm not feeling up to it. Savvy? Thank you.

See you around. One love

---->>>>>Captaincue (every little helps)

FROM THE NIGERIAN UNDERWORLD

"I used to pride myself on my travels and the experience I got on those journeys. So during the loooooooooooooong holidays, no thanks to one of those ineffective, indefinite ASUU strikes, I decided to pay my friend a visit. And go I went. To a place where I would meet my end.

Unbeknownst to me, there had been a robbery in that neighbourhood a few days prior to my, what I can now call, ill-advised visit - - and agitated folks were on the lookout for strange faces. So I tried to locate the address I had with me, as the bloody network wouldn't let my call through.

Before I could ask for directions however, I was accosted by two hefty, indigenous guys who aggressively tried to snatch my bag to purportedly search it. Civilians like myself fa. I stated my mission in the area and showed them that I only had a laptop and two pieces of clothing in there. Then they started asking absurd questions like could they be sure it wasn't stolen.

One of them, for no apparent reason at all, decides to bless me with the unfortunate approbative thief. As if on standby, a throng of angry-looking bastards appear with pseudo weapons, with clear intent to pounce on me in seconds. I pleaded with them to let me explain myself - - a gesture that they took as a stonewall admission of guilt on my part.

One of those big, burly guys attempted to strike me across the face. I blocked it but did not retaliate. Instead I resolutely tried to make my point. If only I'd known! They thought the blocking was a sign of disrespect towards a 'strong man' in their neighbourhood. So they conveniently chose to ignore the pertinent question of me being/not being a thief...and they decided to 'teach him a lesson'.

Fighting with one person is one thing, getting beat by a mob is another. Blows rained on me from clubs and various pieces of remorseless metal. At that point, young educated chaps like myself  tried out moves they'd only seen in movies and video-games. They struck me. 

They poked me. My skin was pierced. 

My soul; the very essence of my being, was weakened as I became blinded in one eye. 

What housed my teeth was by then, a masticated bloodied gum of bone and sinew. I couldn't speak, I could only make gestures in my head.

I wanted to tell them that the poor network wouldn't let my call through. I wanted to tell them that I'm the first child of my parents. I wanted to tell them that I was gonna return home to help my little sister draw a skeleton in her cardboard. I wanted to tell them that I was gonna dry-clean my mama's clothes. I was going to tell them that...that..

I wanted to scream that I was one of them. I did. I wanted to scream that I'm Nigerian too. I wanted to tell them that being young isn't a function of one's propensity to perpetrate a crime. I wanted to tell them that I wasn't a thief. I wanted to tell them that I had dreams of building a library in my village. I wanted to tell them that I had no problem dying -- I just didn't want to be killed like a sewer rat.

A lingering last look at the women, and men, beating, and watching, informed me of the vanity of trying...not that I could anyway. Blood trickled into my eyes and i couldn't even scratch . I looked up one last time to see a thick metal rod making its way to my head.

Just like that...I became dead. My soul fled to a world beyond this one; to get a panoramic view of things from above. To watch how perverts with blood-filled fetishes who could've opted to not partake, to stop the madness, instead stood there -- with glee; recording the event -- with glee. I watched as some cringed at the gory sight of my once fresh body, and as some spewed 'serves him right' while talking business at a fly-ridden bar.

I could only wonder why I was born in the first place if that's how I had to go. My part is played though, and when all is said and done; I feel sorry for the lot of you."

And it was ever thus.

--->>>@Captaincue

Barawo banza

A good day I trust? Today's piece is one I wish I didn't have to write. With some trepidation however, I pen it. There’s not going to be any witty banter, nor a deliberate attempt at a joke. Years after the Aluu killings -- which for the wide coverage it got in the media, thankfully brought to fore a sickening trend that is seemingly entrenched in the Nigerian society; the concept of Jungle Justice. While some of us are still trying to get over the horrors of what was done to those very young boys — boys who were in my age bracket; there have been, unfortunately and rather disturbingly, a series of recurrences in which alleged criminals were lynched. And burned

Most everyone in Nigeria has a degree of education. Be it formal, or the readily available home training. Common sense doesn't come with education though, as these unfortunate series of happenings have made apparent. I've been a victim of attempted robbery and when a dude was caught in the act weeks later, I swear to God I wanted nothing more than to bash his face in with the bare knuckles of my hands. How could you have the temerity to snatch something you didn't work for. How could you. I grew up piss poor myself, as did millions of other Nigerians, so don't use the economic hardship excuse for me -- I'm not a thief. How could a young man cause psychological trauma to my sisters and my mother...such that whenever they hear a loud bang, they recoil in horror and think 'these people' are trying to smash the door in again. How dare you. How very dare you. 

But I wouldn't allow myself strike him, as he was vulnerable. I would be a coward if I had. Dude was surrounded by the neighborhood, very ashamed, very afraid. Of course some people posited that he be beaten to a pulp to teach him a lesson. I was sorely tempted to take out my anger on the bastard, but it just felt wrong. And the thieves who visited weeks earlier didn't even gain access fa. 

Now imagine being the victim of a successful armed robbery. Imagine you losing your valuables to these fucks. Imagine the anger you'd feel and the accompanying natural tendency to lash out. The law is very fucked in the country I know, and criminals are often spotted roaming the streets weeks after conviction. But is it not an indictment of our moral compass as a society, when an innocent man is wrongfully punished? If we should teach every criminal a lesson, it'll affect someone innocent. I could very well scythe a mob on the law student who's dating the girl I want to date -- just by shouting 'thief, thief, thief'.

Look at those bastards who tortured the alleged 'pepper thief' in Lagos. It just doesn't make sense. What right have they to uphold the law? What happened to habeas corpus -- the right to a fair trial. I can't believe the words coming outta me mouth, but, better to set free a hundred criminals than spill the blood of an innocent woman/man. Its like killing the baby to catch the kidnapper. Its not alright. In the grand scheme of things, you're not helping.

I could write shorter sermons, but when I talk about issues that pray on my emotions, I tend to drone on, and on, and on. That could've been Cue. Or dozens of other people. When the infamous Aluu incident happened, I fictionalized a letter from the underworld; ominously addressed to the lot of us. This one is long enough as it is, so I'll post that letter tomorrow.

Until then. Do the bit you can to stop the rot. And be excellent.

--->>>@Captaincue

BABIES

Sometimes I tire of dealing with mankind and I choose to commune with God's other creations: trees, animals et al.  Not in a schizophrenic kinda way o...just a mere appreciation of God's mysterious works. So when my brain gets saturated, I go to the zoo to unwind. Sometimes I go there with a date; as its a cool spot. Other times I just go with a book and read or I just sit by the stream and watch water streaming down the....stream.

Naturally, I begin with the trees, read their labels and morphology...then I leave for the peaceful animals: ducks, ram, giraffe, donkeys, horses before drifting to the rather bellicose ones: snakes, crocodiles, vultures, eagles, hyenas, ostrich(es). I always save the best for the last; the lions. Do not believe everything you see in those documentaries coz lions are really big. Despite the cages, they're still frightening creatures. A roar will send vibrations through the ground within a 10 meter radius of those creatures.

I got a closeup realtime view of a lion's eyes. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd seen all my life. It was. Then my sisters started having kids, in which case I was allowed to handle those babies in the palm of my hands only a few hours after their birth. Those lovely creatures. Those tender lovely creatures. Those sweet tender lovely little things. So fragile. So tranquil. So dreamy. So lithe. Have you ever witnessed a baby's yawn? Walai its the most beautiful thing you'll ever see. What of the way they cover their eyes with both hands; as if literally guarding against the evil forces of a wicked world. Lol. Babies are pure. Apart from waking parents at ungodly hours of night, they're pretty harmless.

My point? There's no point. I only went to a naming ceremony this evening and got to take a picture with the baby girl. I dunno why I'm emotional about this. Tomorrow I'm not going to school. I'm just gonna sit in the verandah in my shorts, blanket on my shoulders, and look at all the pictures of the babies I have on my phone. And probably cry for the rest of the weekend.

When my neighborhood girlfriend saw this piece, she eyed me in a weird way and asked: "what is wrong with you". A question on so many levels.

--->>>Cue (oh baby, oh baby..)

DREAMS

I wanted to be a traffic warden. As a kid, I just loved the fluid movement of their wrists and fingers gesturing energetically to cars, controlling traffic, averting potential mayhem and generally looking cool in black trousers and orange shirts.  It seemed an interesting job to me as a boy. I was wired that way.

In my earliest years, when peeps would ask me what I wanted to be when I was grown, I would look into the distance and give it some serious thought. Then the conversation would end with "..you're good with your hands & not bad at science at all..you should be an architect."
In truth I thought of the usual things I could become, the usual Nigerian suspects -- doctor, lawyer, engineer; none of which particularly interested me. By my reckoning back then, when Providence shows you your calling, a lightbulb would go on in your head like one of those cartoons, and you'll set after that dream and live happily ever after. I never saw any of those bulbs.

It never rained for me, but when it did (in my teens), it poured. First I wanted to become a footballer. John O'Shea made it..I couldn't be any worse. Then I wanted to be an architect. Then it was a fine artist. Then I just wanted to write. One constant was that I really, really wanted to eviscerate poverty and become rich -- a dream which ignited, and still fuels the burning furnace that is my hustle.

Maybe I wasn't able to figure it out because dreams were somewhat wrongly portrayed as an either/or thing. In retrospect, I can honestly say my inability to pinpoint a 'dream' stemmed from this wrongful notion. Should I be subjugated to a particular field of endeavour when there are a jillion other ventures I can try my hand at? I don't like to think so.

That said, I hope you see I'm not intent on becoming a jackofalltrades average kinda guy, because I don't. I'm just interested in doing several things, any of which would give me immense joy should I manage to achieve considerable success in.

So this past week, I tried completing a short story I've been writing for a while now. And I did. And it might be awful. I'll publish under a pseudonym. That's what I've been up to. So, to those who figure it out early, God bless the hustle. To those who are still finding their purpose, you'll find it soon enough.

I need an editor. Mail me please. We'll chat. Thank you.

I'll see you around. Be excellent.

         --->>>Cue (...moving from nothing to something..)

Everybody Loves Captaincue

If I'm not mistaken (I'm not!), its been a whopping 5days since my last post. A lot has happened in that time. There has been a backlash to Mr Tambuwal's decision to switch allegiance. There has been a backlash to the backlash. I'm really interested in how it pans out. Fingers crossed; there'll be a backlash to the backlash to the backlash in a wonderful convoluted web of political backlashery.

In that brief interlull, I bought and listened to MI's album. Can't do a review. Won't do a review. Not that I couldn't if I set my heart to it, but I guess I'll be doing us all a favour coz I have a peculiar taste in music. With my music player on shuffle, press the next button 5times and you'll probably get something like Terry G's Free madness2 to Enya's Silent Night to Umqombothi to Ace Hood's Bugatti to Clarkson's Breakaway. I guess the concept of good music is subject to an individual's sensibilities. Read one on  tooxclusive or something. For me sha, and I'm saying this on first 'hearing', it took me back to my secondary school days when for weeks on end, all I heard was Van Helsing's hype. I had really high hopes of the film..such that when I eventually saw the movie, I thought it a bit meh. I'm sure I'll like it more when I listen again -- just like I later realized Van Helsing was actually a decent film.

Also, in those five days, I paid a prospective girlfriend a visit. Her cousin was in a really bad mood...or maybe she just wasn't feeling my vibe. That couldn't possibly be the case, could it?! E.L.C.

In 5days, I've bought yet another 200naira earpiece. Why is it that the left side is the first one to stop working. That's one for scientists to work out.

In 5days, I've had someone ask, "..really? this is your blog?!" I guess I don't look like much. Was that a compliment on my work or a slight on my person. It hurt a little.

Its good to be back. Meanwhile, I've somehow hit two-bloody-thousand page views. That's well and truly humbling. School is on, so I'll be blogging erratically over the next few weeks. I have a B.Sc to earn. Still, I might just squeeze blogging into my schedule and do it all. I wouldn't put it past me. Multitasking is one of my strong suits.

Watch this space.

         --->>>Cue (..ife di'nma amaka..better soup na money kill am o...)