An unforgiving god

I stood outside the house starring at nothing in particular with my hands akimbo.
There I was happily rocking my short-cropped hair and wondering if today will be the day I pass a comb through it or just do my usual finger brushing thingny after my morning shower when this young lady began inching towards me.
I had prepared my mind to think of the simplest and shortest possible route to give to her as I assumed that she was in need of directions – why else would a normal and sane looking person be going out of her way to approach someone gazing at noting in particular so early in the morning?
(when in a bank, I prepare to share my pen, give the date or help a little old lady fill her bank teller, when wearing ‘hundred’ inch heels I prepare to break a possible fall as a result of my erm... no idea and when walking alone after 9pm on an eerie road I set my legs to flight mode. Any strange entity come too close to me, I make like Usain St. Leo Bolt and…!!).

The young lady touched me ever so gently and questioned in a slow whisper “ sister, na your husband follow you go abi na your boyfriend?” I gasped and tried to prevent my jaw from dropping to the floor. Now that was one question I did not foresee.

After a brief exchange with me answering her questions and giving my candid advice, I bid her farewell and watched as she scurried out and away from my line of vision.
The young lady was from either kalabari kingdom, akwaibom or somewhere in the riverine parts of the south – south of Nigeria (I wasn't paying too much attention to what she said but remember saying "so you sabi swim wella abi?").
It turns out she has been nursing a craving to have her full head of unadulterated virgin hair cut but was not permitted to do so.
When she spotted me, she saw a kindred spirit and decided to share her plight.

In her village, a woman was only allowed to cut her hair if she was in mourning.
To do otherwise, she would need to tender either a husband or a boyfriend who will accompany her to the venue and proceed to tell the barber, cutter or hair stylist that he was aware of her said intentions, was in approval and had granted his permission. Or else, someone will face the consequence!

Isn’t tradition wonderful?!

Reflecting on this brought another possibly unrelated incidence to mind.

Sometime in the past, Uselu market in Benin City, Edo state experienced a fire accident.
During the commotion, there were a whole lot of looting, plundering and general misdemeanors.
In anger, one of the affected people, an African traditional worshiper cried to her god (small letter g) and placed a curse on peoples were in possession of stolen goods.
Immediately word of her deeds got around, people started returning goods, even goods not stolen from Uselu market!
The returned items amounted to a huge pile.
The pile was there for a long time as the real owners were afraid of accidentally taking an item that was not theirs and in the process end up with a raptured belly, rotten feet and something to do with the tongue (can’t recall the details of the curse again, it really was a while back).
I can’t remember what happened at the end of 'the day' or how the pile varnished but I know I was in awe for a very long time.
Maybe I still am, who knows?

‘Officially’ in Nigeria today, there are more Christians and Muslims than traditional worshippers and native doctors (juju priests) but there is less honesty, justice and fair play.
It is not only disturbing but unsettling as the holy books describe traditional worship as devilish and wicked yet most of these 'evil people' show more respect for human life, reward for labor and the laws of their land.
Are these robbers, extorters, murderers and kidnappers not either Christians or Muslims?
I hate to ask this, but I am quite confused so I'd ask anyway.
Our darling chairmen, senators, governors and leaders of the land. You who are responsible for the Progress, Safety, Security and Life of the citizens of this great nation?
Where lies your faith?

Black Birds

I was seated in this guy’s car, he happens to be someone that often makes me go: “Oseyi, your brain dey touch so? See correct bush meat for front you dey carry torchlight look bush” (aka gaga) but not for long though because I know him and me will never happen.
He’s cool, cute and smart (perfect combination for a heart breaker if you ask me).
While we were trying to ignore the fact that we were alone in a dark place and “no one was watching” should we decide to try out “interesting stuff” his phone rang.
It was his girlfriend.
After it rang unanswered for about the hundredth and twenty first time, I begged him to pick and swore I’d be quieter than the progress the Nigerian government is making in improving living conditions of the common man.
Not trusting my solemn vow (I wonder why) he picked the call and told her he was driving presently, he could not talk.
He promised to call her as soon as he was parked and reminded her of how much he loved her (so much for our moment) and blah- blah.
Night came, morning came and it was another day.
This event would have faded out of my memory in its own good time if not for the mad déjà vu I got when barley 24hrs later, I called the love of my life (he isn’t aware of this status by the way) and he told me he was driving and could not talk…

By my count, today is the 11th day of Christmas.
I have always known the song 12 days of Christmas but I assumed it was just something made up to give more children important roles like “gold rings”, “calling birds” and “turtle doves” to play.
It turns out the 12 days of Christmas does exist or a controversy surrounding the days anyway.
Since there is no concrete evidence to prove or disprove each school of thought, I’d follow the lead of theological scholars and leave you to decide for yourself.
With all the assorted birds flying around, leaping lords and milking maids, it would be easier to believe that the song is really about two lovers, a man showering his love with gifts and finally after she accepts his proposal, a wedding huge wedding (see: pipers playing).
The “calling birds” which turn out to be collie birds aka crows, seem to have been a delicacy at that time (they appeared in pies as well)

also the gold rings ( The five gold rings of the song were originally five ring-necked pheasants, not jewelry).
With so much reference to fertility and merry making, the link with paganism might not be too far fetched (apples represented females and pear’s: well endowed males).
Remember how GEJ used D’banj as part of his campaign strategy to make himself more popular with the erm… kokolets?
The Christians did something like that as well (not with D’banj though) they took the traditional pagan festivals and replaced them with Christian one’s.
It is told that in the 16th century, Christians where persecuted for teaching, speaking or even thinking Christianity so a couple of families together with Jesuits (smart people by the way) encoded the Christian doctrine in a seemingly innocent children’s song which they could sing openly without fear of arrest.

A partridge in a pear tree: Jesus (Luke 13:34)

Two turtle doves: The Old and New Testaments (which together bear witness to God's self-revelation in history and the creation of a people to tell the Story of God to the world).

Three French hens: The three Biblical magi and/or The Three Theological Virtues: Faith, Hope, and Love (1 Corinthians 13:13)

Four calling birds: The four Gospels Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, which proclaim the Good News of God's reconciliation of the world to Himself in Jesus Christ.

Five gold rings: The Torah or Pentateuch, the first five books of the Old Testament

Six geese a-laying: The six days of Creation

Seven swans a-swimming: Seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (Romans 12:6-8; cf. 1 Corinthians 12:8-11)

Eight maids a-milking: The eight Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10)

Nine ladies dancing: Nine fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23)

Ten lords a-leaping: The Ten Commandments. (Exodus 20:1-17)
Eleven pipers piping: The eleven faithful Apostles (Luke 6:14-16).

Twelve drummers drumming: The twelve points of the Apostles' Creed

No matter the myth, legend or source, it remains that as the Easter season begins on Easter Sunday and goes on for 50 days so also does the Christmas season which starts on Christmas Day, December 25th (the birth of Jesus) and ends at the Epiphany, January 6th *the day Christians celebrate the arrival of the Magi (Wise Men) and the revelation of Christ as the light of the world.
Twelfth Night is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as "the evening of the fifth of January, preceding Twelfth Day, the eve of the Epiphany, formerly the last day of the Christmas festivities and observed as a time of merrymaking."

In the spirit of Christmas, I bring you my top Santa sightings in the year 2012.

I am guessing Rudolph et al were too drunk to fly

What happened afterwards is best left to the imagination

Santa and his not so little helpers

Introducing... Mrs Claus (his Nigerian secret wife)!!

Santa always delivers!

...and then this little girl became overwhelmed by Santa's allure (note the tears of joy)

Santa, always a helping hand!

Seriously, whats not to love about this Santa?!

* For enquires to the criteria for rating, leave a comment!

Thanks to the now more secular society, the hunt for the next money making venture, shows and awesome discounts to lure "holiday shoppers", Christmas of late begins in November (and sometimes as early as October) and goes on all through early December so by the time December 25th (Christmas day) really does come, most of us have forgotten the true Christmas message and the spirit that goes along with it.

Tomorrow is the last day of Christmas, 2012 was a year of growth heralding great expectations for 2013.
My final toast is to the people who will get tired of the Nigerian "suffering and smiling" mentality and do something about it.

Merry Christmas every one and Happy New Year!

See Fada see Oyibo!

Sunday!
I swear, Sunday crept in on me and I was not prepared.
Today is even Monday!!
O how time flies.

Things I did not do Friday

1. Get carving knife.
2. Use my mind to clean the house (did it with a broom instead on Sunday)
3. Get a good reason for not attending the wedding (went and had a *to be continued blast!)

When I was much younger (the age when my father #especially when I was ill and refused to accept food of any kind# would convince me that diced pineapple was a special type of ice cream that will melt in my mouth after I ate it) my Uncle P told me how the word Oyibo (oyibo was slang for a white man i.e light complexioned skin that changes color to suit the present emotion - embarrassed: red, sick: green, cold: blue, etc. I say "was" because now, thanks to "skin toning, highlighting and lightening soaps and creams, any one can be an oyibo, ask Izy!) could be easily interchanged with priest.
There were so few that whenever you were to see a priest, he was most likely to be a white man.
Saying "see fada, see oyibo" then was like saying "six and half a dozen" now.

Sunday:
The message from the pulpit was about the coming celebrations; Christmas, boxing day... the new year! (For those too busy hustling to notice the weather change).
How we has humans strive to perform better when we know there would a suitable reward for our labors, having expectations and working towards a goal.
It would have been a perfect Sunday if earlier in church, I was not doing battle with the demon of sleep who pulled down my eyelids when ever we were asked to sit.
All through the struggle, I felt like part witch that went for convention during the night and part "Okpo" who spent the night "servicing" high end clients but, to God be the glory, I prevailed!
After having almost sprained my ankle form walking into a pothole that wasn't there initially, I returned to a house without power supply and washed my legs with the last drop of the water I paid mummy F to source and fetch for me.
It occurred to me that good roads, electricity and pipe borne water could pass for rewards for hard work but unfortunately, we as a people (children of a country over 50 years old) are still "expecting".

Saturday:
Was a blast, ooooh am in lurv!! Would talk about it next time.

Is it just me or to cockroaches now feed on camphor?

- Oseyi