Much ado about Awin

Last month a picture was sent to me with the question “remember this?” almost immediately, I sent a reply “don’t you?”
The next question was what set me off on my noble quest.

Journey to the days of old.

Armed with the picture, my amazing friends and feeling like a cop, I’d flash the picture (or display it as my profile picture) and ask for the English name.
Most people I asked recounted tales of walking home with a bunch in hand, cracking it open and popping one tiny fruit after the other into their mouths while remembering to spit out the seeds (many of us believed that fruit seeds swallowed accidentally or on purpose would grow in our stomachs, and sprout from the top of our heads. To be on the safe side, even with my B.Sc. and all, you will not find me deliberately swallowing a fruit seed to prove a point) although they each had an idea or more, they could not quite remember the exact name.
I would not say in my early childhood I pretended to be a goat, didn’t know better or my mother did not feed me but I can admit I had a thing for the glossy oval leaves.
I will stuff a forest in my schoolbag when coming back from school, do my chores and finish lessons (if I had any that day) then run to the back of the house sit down in a coded corner and happily munch on my loot.
Imagine my delight when I noticed the tree struggling to grow in the ixora bushes in front of the house!

(Degema street, #sigh#)

Dialium indum

The velvet tamarind is a tall, tropical, fruit-bearing tree.
Rumored to be rich in all them plenty good vitamins, anti oxidants and additive properties, it belongs to the Leguminosae family.

It has small, (most times) orange typically grape-sized edible fruits with velvety black hard but inedible shells.
A native to southern Thailand and Malaysia, the velvet tamarind can also be found in West African countries such as Ghana, Sierra Leone, Senegal, and Nigeria.

Although its close relative Tamarind (Tamarindus indica) (from Arabic: تمر هندی‎, romanized tamar hind meaning "Indian date") which is the only individual in its species exists, Dialium indum is the most common and widespread Dialium in Nigeria.
For people interested in getting their tongues around the fruit, the tree flowers from September to October and fruits from October to January in Nigeria.

Due to its valued hard and compact wood the velvet tamarind is a threatened species.
Sadly, the tree is not commercially grown because it takes 5 to 15/17 years, sometimes even more to come into bearing.
If we are not careful about protecting and propagating the few trees we have left, the sight of said trees might become a memory.

Local names in the country (aside from “Licky –licky and Baba dudu ) include:

Amugen – Benin

Awin – Yoruba

Ukuk – Akwa ibom

Icheku – Igbo and

Tsamiyar kurm – Hausa

From places in the world: it is called Yoyi in Ghana, Keranji in Malaysia, Luk yee in Thailand and some other parts of the South East Asia.




@ Frank and Black Dorian, this one’s for you!

Qui est Risky ?

About two years ago, during the news hour on radio, I heard that commercial bike riders informally referred to as okada riders were banned from having any form of music devices on their 2-wheeled vehicles.
I often wondered how it was possible for a bike to have radio sets and if it was, why the government official’s were being player haters.
This morning, while listening to the headlines and trying to be a little above late for community service, my attention was caught by news that an okada rider was crushed to death by a moving 6,000 pound truck while attempting to flee form the police.

It happened that the okada man who was a tailor by day and a hustler by night took up bike riding as a means of supplementing his income.
The radio reporter went ahead to advise okada men that it was better to be arrested by the police than end up dead.
Midway between pulling my T-shirt over my chest and nodding my head in agreement, I remembered an occasion when while on said okada, I spotted a gaggle of uniformed men and noticed my okada driver was being flagged down.

They were road safety officials.

Seeing a line up of Okada men ahead kneeling and pleading, my driver did not want to wait and see if he would join the chain of uncanny beggars or be given a medal of excellence.

Rather than stop like he was signaled to, he accelerated and thoughtfully dared the official to do his worst.
I was pleading with him to slow down a bit when the outraged officer whipped out his work worn palms, threw all his weight to his right hand and slapped the okada driver as he zoomed past.

The road shook, the bike shook, I shook.
In that instant, I felt (not watched) the high points of my life so far flash before my eyes (in 3D).

Considering the speed at which he was moving, I did not know if I should stop-drop and roll, reach forward and take over control of the bike or start reciting a prayer to my guardian angel.

Luckily for me, I did not have to do either.
The bike-man had quick reflexes, high tolerance for pain and was intelligent to boot.
He was able to regain control of the bike, meander through the busy Thursday morning traffic and get the both of us safely to the other side.
He told me he had to stop; I was too shaken up to respond.

When he parked I took a look at him.

In less than 3 minutes, the right part of his face around the region of his eyes was swollen, tears flowed incessantly down his face and there were beads of sweat lining his forehead.

Thinking back to that incident, I am not sure of how to react anymore.

I have watched with fascination as daredevil okada riders sat on the engines of their motorbikes and raced like rabid madmen up and down the road (I suspect aside from the adrenaline rush going through their veins, something goes on between their intimate anatomy and the bike’s motor).

I have trembled in fear as two men who appeared to be military men, patrolling on an okada, ran their murky fingers over my body and through my pockets. Robbing my cousin and I of not only our belongings but also our trust for uniformed men.

I have chatted with okada riders who recounted incredible stories of how they broke away from bad company and were determined to make a life for themselves.
Once I took a number.
On a whim, I called.
He announced that he was now the proud owner of a tokunbo car!




Risky, Risky, where’d you go?
With wit like a whip
He’s faster than a flash

Risky, Risky, see that streak?
Like a bullet to its target
Risky’s straight to the goal




...coming soon, Risky!

The Tortoise, The Hare and Mr. Nancy

Honestly speaking, with the earth as my witness, I did not set out to be naughty yesterday evening. I was minding my business, steadfastly making my way home when the incident occurred.
Truth be told, I was the victim!
After a long day spent in service to the fatherland and at the same time in repression of thoughts of the extra spicy chicken lounging in the pot of stew in my kitchen, I decided to take the scenic route home.
The journey would have been quiet and uneventful but for the interruption of my line of vision by a man who’s bald head reflected the setting sun.
On seeing him, I stopped walking and gaped at the sight before me. To be sure I was not imagining things, using my eyes, I traced the position of the sun and followed it down to its reflection on his head.
My forays would have gone unnoticed by the dear man if only my traitorous eyes did not decide to on their own check out his profile, conclude he was quite young then again look at him as if to ask what the secret of his shiny bald spot was.
I believe by some stroke of unfortunate luck, he heard the unasked question because he changed his direction and made to come to me.
I did not stand to see what he had in mind.
I “stoned” my face, looked in the other direction and scurried away as fast as my little feet would carry me!


(reward for hard work!)



Where are they now?


Do you remember the creature?
Wise and solemn, he often outwitted the boastful adversary
Slow and steady, he extolled patience
On darker days he was foolish and greedy, ending up with a broken back.

How about this one?
With speed and wit the accomplished feats
He followed the captives to a foreign land
With ears so long, he wormed his way
To their hearts, tradition and immortality till now.

I refused to believe the trickster is gone
Once in time he gave us stories
Hailing from West Africa he outsmarted his father
A being of skill, his web connects us all.


Thanks to the death of the tales by moonlight, fun educative programs on local TV stations and their relations, hopefully, most of us will know this creature as

A Tortoise.
Member of the family Testudinidae a family of land-dwelling reptiles in the order Testudines.
They are usually daytime creatures (diurnal) with tendencies to participate in twilight affairs (I did not just think of glow in the light vampires).
Tortoises generally have lifespans comparable with those of human beings, and some individuals are known to have lived longer than 150 years
(Grand Master Oogway (also known as Master Oogway or more simply Oogway) was an elderly tortoise and the previous senior master of the Jade Palace. He is credited as the founder of the Valley of Peace, the creator of Kung Fu, and the developer of the Dragon Warrior legend).

This next one on the other hand might be a little hard to follow.

As his close relation seems to have stolen his thunder.

Hares and rabbits (Leporidae) together form a group of Lagomorphs that includes about 50 species of hares, jackrabbits, cottontails and rabbits.
While huge differences exist between the two, hares and rabbits have short bushy tails, long hind legs, long ears and share similar position in folkloreStories of the hare started out as lessons to African children on the values of humility and wisdom. Overtime, as the stories made their way across the boarders of Africa, more of the responsibly was given to the rabbit.
In time, the hare was hardly mentioned.

Arachnophobia or arachnephobia is the fear of spiders and other arachnids.

Given Name: Kweku Anansi
Father: Nyame, (sky god)
Mother: Asase Ya (fertility/ earth goddess)
Gender: Male
Date of Birth: Unknown (around the time when animals and humans spoke to each other).
Day of Birth: Wednesday
Height: Little. Weight: Light.
Address (es): Kumasi, Ghana / Kingston and the counties of Jamaica and other Caribbean territories / The Sea Islands and South Carolina (Gullah), USA / the island of Haiti / Paramaribo and other districts within Suriname, South America / Garifuna Communities, Belize, Central America.
Country of Origin: Ashanti, Ghana
M.O. (Modus Operandi): Trickery; Quick-change-artist; Uses his brains; Hustler; Outsmarts persons larger than himself; Known to travel with immigrants; Often gets in trouble for a misdemeanor.
Main Enemy: Osebo the Leopard, A.K.A: "Bre'r Tiger", "Bra Tiger", "Bro Tiger", Tiger.
Spiders are air breathing, eight-legged predatory arachnids with a body consisting of a fused head and thorax and a rounded abdomen. They are arthropods with fangs that inject venom. They are the largest order of arachnids and rank seventh in total species diversity among all other groups of organisms.
Spiders are found worldwide on every continent except for Antarctica, and have become established in nearly every habitat with the exception of air and sea colonization.

It is considered bad luck to kill a spider



Happy birthday Izy!

Head. On a silver platter

I doubt I can burst into spontaneous tears like the beautiful Oge Okoye (I was lucky to be in same venue with her and a group of them “Nollynians” when a colleague asked her to “cry for the camera”. Just like that, the dams of her tear ducts went “pop!” and out poured the torrent. I was awestruck and was like; how did she do that?!)
I am very confident however that, when it comes to displaying vengeful and earth scorching anger, I am a pro.
All that is needed to trigger this emotion is to picture any or all of the present lower denominations of the Nigerian currency.
Talking of 5, 10, 20 and 50 naira notes!
I mean whose bright idea was it to replace the trusty paper money with “waterproof” and nylon?

Did the clerics at the “Aso court” foresee a flood?

It is bad enough that I wasted precious time in school during my formative years learning about the characteristics of the Nigerian currency (...legal tender, store of value, etc) which does not apply to the Naira now I have to deal with money melting in my pocket, getting broken, becoming suddenly shy and transparent.
I can just picture the teenage airheaded girlfriend of the person in charge of “currency design” rubbing his head and saying “honey, if you really love me, for my 18th birthday, I would like money that can be used to make boyfriend slippers” and him belting out “Yes my darling! Yes my lady!! Yes my love!!” like a randy he-goat.
See me happy today thinking I had managed to avoid the embarrassment and insults that ensue when you give a “red-eyed” bus conductor a thousand Naira note for a 30 Naira trip only to be pulled out from my state of bliss by my brand new 20 Naira note which became a living thing before my eyes, underwent mitosis and lost its twin to the wind.
My poor keyboard is taking a beating for my annoyance.

Keyboard I am sorry.

So, days back, a lady friend of mine wrote in bewilderment “do these people think youth corps members are goats?” when I asked her why she was lamenting, she spoke of how they usually took away the good chairs and left the broken and useless one’s for the corps members.
They could either seat on said chairs at the risk of loosing/harming body parts or…
I sent my condolences and proceeded to speak about the weather.
Today I went to the southwest secretariat and saw a herd of corps members.
They were clustered together, trying to force themselves through a tiny doorway while begging for attention.
Some were lying on top of the other, sweating, looking tormented and forlorn. While others turned savage, forgot why they were there in the first place and took to exchanging words and occasional blows.
The image of a Fulani herdsman gently guiding his cattle to greener pastures came to mind but unlike these people, the cattle’s are usually clam, well spaced and taken care of.
For someone like me that experiences claustrophobia on occasion, playing hooky became my light at the end of the tunnel herd.
Thinking back, that lady was wrong in asking if they thought the Nigerian Corps Members were goats I believe the idea is somewhere between intelligent monkey’s and cows.

In other news:
Nawti by Olu Maintain still gets me swaying my pseudo hips to his flute beckons. While the burst of color in the Fotojenik (remix) and Sisi Eko (Remix) videos by Wizboy ft Ikechukwu and Dare ft. Flavour makes me happy, I still have giggling fits when the image of Kate Henshaw dancing “Etighi” in the video of African Skank by JJC comes to mind.
I’ve seen the videos over and over and still it is not enough, something in the lyrics, symphony and fluid movement makes me proud these artists are who they are as well as Nigerians.

And then prince charming threw Oseyi over his shoulder, straddled his kpekpeye and rode off into the sunset.
*PS: they lived happily ever after (minus the fowl)