MATURE MINDS TALK

“Wake Up Jaybee!”

“But why?... I’m enjoying this trip”

“You’ll soon have to get back to work and you need to quickly compose today’s content”

I don’t like it when the tiny voice in my head guilt-trips me into doing things, especially at times like this when I’m touring “Good Old Town”. So, rather than start thinking of the right thing to write, let me let you in. From here on, you are inside my head for the next couple of minutes. Welcome to Good Old Town. I come here once in a while, so everything is in shape.

If you’re allergic to nostalgia, be warned. Good Old Town is all shades of it. This is strictly for those who grew up in Nigeria. Find your own Nostalgia if you didn’t. Sorry. While you mo… Careful!... That picture is from a time during breakfast, and that’s me dunking my bread inside my teacup. Oh here I am, rushing home from school to meet the start of TV stations’ transmission by 5pm. You remember that song “Our Sweetest Station NTA 2, NTA 2 Channel 5!”

Remember those dope series – Tiny Toon Adventures, The Lion King, Taz-Mania, Rug-Rats, and so on. That’s me watching… what movie was it again? Wasn’t it Terminator, Mrs Doubtfire, Home Alone, Apollo 13, Jurrasic Park, Coming to America, Rocky, or Equalizer 2000… can’t quite remember. Oh, and that’s me cutting paper currencies to spend during “Daddy and Mommy”. I was always the child. Never got to play “Daddy” *side eye*

Well, I preferred it to “Hide and Seek”, “Police and Thief”, “Stay/freeze”, “Obey My Command”, “Who’s in the Garden”, “Form a Big Circle” and “Where did I see” (My bro was always asking where he saw what only him can see). That’s me stretching my hand and singing for a bird to poo on my fingernails, to make them white and fine. I was flying kites in this picture and I played truancy just so I could play with this Red Toy Car. Gone are the days.

The nostalgia of recitations may be too much for you, but at least you remember “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, “I see the moon; the moon sees me”, “Wherever you go”, “Biro Master”, and… Wait! Hope you also believed that India beat Nigeria 99-1 in a football match where the ball transformed to various kinds of animals. Santa Claus creeped me the heck out. I still don’t like him or his gifts. I’ll rather watch Chukky, Mount Zion Horror Movies, or Willow.

Big Boy starter pack – 1 Head warmer/Bandana/Durag, 1 Fila face cap, 1 Fubu oversized T-Shirt, 1 baggy Jean or Combat, 1 “Timbolo” (go figure), 1 walkman (with extra audio cassettes). Alternatively, you can manage a Palito radio. But before we became big boys, playing the “200 in 1 brick games” with the overhead light, there was just the “10-10”, “Tinko tinko”, “After Round 1”, and “Who Mess?!”.

That’s me rolling a tyre (I was an expert driver), before there was Table Soccer, Fall the Maize cobs, and Rubber Band Olympics. Oh how I enjoyed Tales by Moonlight. Remember Sprint and Banana chewing gums, Baba Dudu, Short Cake and Coconut biscuits, the choco cubes, Video Cassette rewinders, Kitto and Trekkers sandals and Goody Goody. Christmas period was a time for new shoes and clothes, but looking back now, you can’t but exclaim “Gone are the days!”

Mature Minds Talk.

Dear Woman Crush Wednesday,

This an open letter to you, my crush. I don’t know how this Woman Crush Wednesday trend started, but I couldn’t think of a better day to let the world know about you, other than today. I’ve secretly crushed on you but it’s time to come out of my hiding. It’s time to remove the blindfold from the eyes of the world and let it see what I’ve seen in you for a really long time. It’s time to let the world see you for who you really are.

You are that lady… No, I mean that beauty from a broken home, living the consequences of actions you took no part in. Trying to understand why there’s so much hate where love is supposed to abound. The frustration outweighs the confusion; I know. You are that beauty who got sexually abused by that animal wearing a man’s skin. I understand it’s lived with you ever since. I’ll gladly carry the weight on my shoulders if I could. I can imagine the hurt the memory brings.

You are that beauty suffering a terminal disease, a cross you weren’t asked if you’d like to bear. It hurts me to see you in pain when the monster rears its ugly head but the least I can do is spread roses on your bed. You are that beauty who’s been left to raise that child all alone, your only crime being that you loved and trusted that coward with everything, even your soul. You are that beauty battling PMS, and no one seems to understand exactly how you feel.

You’re that beauty who had your innocence defiled and have been told not to say a word. I can imagine the emotional damage. You are that beauty, who had to drop out of college, for issues beyond you. You are that beauty labelled anti-social just because the world neither understands you, nor knows what’s going on in your head. You are that beauty shuttling between raising four kids and keeping two jobs.

You are that beauty who continually deprives herself, just so you can support your family. That beauty in an abusive relationship who still holds on to the deep meaning of true love. You are that beauty with an eating disorder, a hormonal imbalance, being body shamed by ignorant folks. You are that beauty who continuously hustles, chasing your dreams, pushing through life’s obstacles without waiting for any knight in shining armor.

You are my Woman Crush Wednesday. You should know that you are beautiful just the way you are. Even if the world keeps throwing pain, anger, depression, low self-esteem, abuse, and the likes at you, I want you to know that it’s just the refining process. Rise my love! Just like a Phoenix from the Ashes, rise! Your scars don’t define you. They are stamps to your beauty.

Dust your robe and straighten your crown my Queen. The whole world is your subject. You are resplendent. You are a masterpiece. You are a star. You are unique. You are limitless. You don’t have to change a thing. You’re wonderfully and perfectly made. To every lady… No, I mean beauty all over the world, remember – Your experience don’t define you.

So walk with your majestic aura of royalty. My sweet Woman Crush Wednesday.

Lots of Love,

Jaybee.

Mature Minds Talk

It’s the seventh day of my Write Time Challenge. I’ve been out all day and I just came back in, about an hour or so ago. I promised spontaneity during this 30 Days “Write Time Challenge” and I’m not going to eat my words. For reiteration sake, everything you read within the period of my “Write Time Challenge” was written not just on that same day, but less than two hours before you read it. Someone saw me talk about spontaneity and told me to not play on people’s intelligence. Funny. I won’t, just as I won’t want people to play on my integrity.

I digress.

So I’m sitting here, staring at my screen, thinking of what to write and I just seem unable to pick any of the various topics in my head screaming “Pick Me! Pick Me!”… I’ve written long enough to smell Writer’s Block from a mile away. I immediately updated my WhatsApp status to say I might just be walking on the thin rope of Writer’s Block. So, goodbye guys, I don’t have anything to talk about today. Hopefully, I’ll be back tomorrow with good news.

Oh! But before you go, if you’re a writer, let me dedicate this to you and just quickly give you 10 tips to overcome the much dreaded Writer’s Block. It’s frustrating; I know. But once you master it, you’ll simply just ghost through the block.

1. Don’t Panic – The fastest way many writers shoot themselves in the foot is to panic at the appearance of the “Block”. Calm down and smile. It’s like a moving cloud. It’ll soon be gone.

2. Listen to Music – You might not know the effect of music on your brain but listening to music can really help ghost you through the block. I deploy this technique quite well.

3. Play Games – Yup! It could be board games, puzzles, arcades, or even video games. You’ll be taking a break while still keeping your brain stimulated. I either play chess, scrabble or adventure video games. I’m actually about to play.

4. Read – Sometimes, your brain doesn’t feel like pouring out. It’ll prefer taking in. Reading is a widely used technique in overcoming Writer’s Block. Read a book, a blog post, newspaper column, whatever! Just read.

5. Engage in a Conversation – Engage people in conversations. Call up a friend or text them. Texting works for me personally, ‘cos I’m writing but my brain isn’t recognizing it as that (yet).

6. Jot Ideas – If you’re working on a script, a book, or so, then jot ideas. Don’t try to expand on them. Just jot. Let your mind roam free but capture your thoughts while it wanders. You just might surprise yourself.

7. Wait for your Zone – I personally write better in the morning than any other time of the day. Study your own time and wait for your zone. You’ll get a better flow then, than any other time.

8. Sleep – Your brain might just be rest deprived. It might not even be a block. If you check and you haven’t slept well in a couple of days, get your butt up and shut your eyes.

9. Utilize Distractions – Check what’s happening on the timeline, watch TV for a bit, play with your pet, just distract yourself a bit. (Disclaimer: Many people recommend avoiding distractions, but the opposite works for me.)

10. Write – This is the silver bullet. The grenade and EMP. If you’ve tried all you can and you’re still feeling stuck, WRITE! Just freestyle. That’s what I did up there and at this point, you’ve just read 600 words. How’s that for Writer’s Block.

Hope this helps.

Cheers!

Mature Minds Talk

According to Livescience, research shows that most deaths during a week day, happens on a Monday (Why don’t you look surprised?). Also, the most common cause of death has been reported to be heart attacks. You know, it could just be a case of someone resuming work on Monday, and as soon as they grab the door handle and set foot inside the office, a sharp grunt follows, suitcase falls, both hands grab the chest and they dramatically make their way to the floor. Adieu!

Research also shows most deaths on Monday are recorded between 9am and 11am but personally, I think those guys didn’t just die on Monday morning. They’ve been cumulatively dying for a long time and just couldn’t hold it together anymore. I don’t want to imagine what Sunday evenings would look like for them. The mood swing, the anxiety, the palpitations, the uneasy sleep, and the hatred for that alarm when it innocently does its job.

Don’t Die On Monday. Please don’t. The grim reaper once said in a news conference that he doesn’t have a favourite day of the week. Lol! Seriously, Monday is innocent. She’s even being rehabilitated now. Do you know what it feels like to be hated by almost everyone? Now, in defense of my very lovely Monday, here are 10 quick tips that may help you both foster a better and enjoyable relationship.

1. Change Your Mindset – Lovely Monday is in no way the worst day of the week, and “Monday blues” is a myth. What has caused those many deaths is people’s negative mindset. Every Monday when you wake up, let out a bright smile because she’s about to usher you into a fantastically productive working week.

2. Stop Living for the Weekend – Most people feel sad on Sunday evening because work resumes “tomorrow”. If you can’t emotionally handle the switch, then don’t travel to outer space, only to return to earth on Monday. If possible, just keep the weekends simple.

3. Stop Being Reactive – You have the power to take charge of any day and chart its course. Don’t sit in the passenger seat and let Monday drive. She keeps failing her driving test. Try to be proactive rather than reactive. Like a plague, avoid anything that wants to transmit negative energy. You know why they ask “How was your day?” It’s because it’s YOUR day.

4. Make Intentional Decisions – Deciding to have a wonderful day goes a long way in making it so. This doesn’t magically removes the day’s unavoidable obstacles, but it reminds you that in spite of those obstacles, you owe yourself a wonderful day.

5. Have a Schedule – Don’t kill yourself with work on Monday. You have four more working days left. Easy! Break your week’s tasks down and apportion each day the volume fit for it. Without a schedule you might subconsciously subject yourself into unnecessary pressure on Monday.

6. Be the Influencer – Ever met someone who brightens up the room when they walk in? Train yourself to be that person. Be an agent of happiness and radiate that energy in your workplace. You also might just be saving a life. I know Monday. She’ll reward you for that.

7. Utilize Weekends – Aha! No commandment ever said “Thou shall not work on Weekends”. If you’ve got any outstanding, utilize the weekend. Don’t shelve them and go bungee jumping all through the weekend. Get to work!

8. Love What You Do – You might not be doing what you’ll rather. But would you rather be jobless? Exactly. So find a way to develop a likeness for that stressful job. See it like you’re only undergoing necessary training before you finally start bossing your own business.

9. Do What You Love – If the previous point doesn’t work for you, then by all means, please STOP! Don’t die doing what you don’t love just so you can receive that credit alert by month end. It’s not worth it. If you can’t love what you do, then leave and go do what you love.

10. Have Fun! – Learn how to sandwich fun between work periods. Take power naps, take a walk, eat like a zombie, play games (if your office provides), just have fun basically. Thrash anxiety. At the end of the day, your productivity is what matters.

Hope you had fun today.

Cheers!

Mature Minds Talk

For what it’s worth, this is neither the initial title of this article, nor what I was going to talk about when I sat down to compose this. I was going to address a recently overly discussed topic in my faith. The issue of tithes. “Why not adjust your lens and talk about a broader topic?” the tiny voice in my head asked. So here you are, my friend, reading something else entirely.

Warning: Keep an open mind as you proceed.

My name is Elijah, and by the application of common sense, you can guess that I’m a Christian. My best friend’s name (from childhood) “was” Akeem and by the application of common sense, you can also tell his faith (I used “was” because he goes by the name “Joshua” now, by choice). At this point, grab a beer if you’re an atheist and watch as I poke some people where it’s most sensitive.

You know, as a kid, I sometimes found it hard to settle in Sunday school, and I’ll ask myself – “What if my churchy parents were atheists, or Imam and Alhaja. Would I still be in a church?” Innocent me was just wondering. As kids or teenagers, one of the questions I can bet nobody asked at any point was “Ok, now you’re eighteen. I understand you’ve been practicing our religion till now but what religion would you personally like to practice?”

Whatever religion you grew up with, 90% says you learnt by observation/absorption. If your parents/guardians/etc were on the Islamic side of the fence, you automatically became a Muslim. If you grew up with Christian folks, you follow suit. Buddhists? And you’re probably a monk in the making. I thought about this a long time ago and realized most of us are nothing but RELIGIOUS ROBOTS.

It’s all TABULA RASA right from conception and we’re slowly being programmed by various factors around us. Some things are taught, while some things are caught. The former is easy to challenge (we sometimes challenge them ourselves) but the latter, not so easy. If not religion, what can make some adults debate like elementary school pupils? If not religion, what can make humans blow themselves up and expect to be ceremoniously welcomed to the afterlife by 72 sumptuous looking virgins? If not religion, then what? Damn!

Everything we know now, we learnt. You grew up to realize ‘this’ is your religion. So you’re being taught how to pray, things to recite and memorize, the essentials of your religion, the do's and dont's, the core values and taboos, the level of research your questions can go and the areas better left untouched. But we will be stupendously stupid to sit down and suspend our brains, anytime it’s time to discuss religion.

If you’ve not gotten to a point of personal decision in religion, then sit down and be humble. You have no business discussing any religion. If you also can’t continuously dig and make research and be fantastically enlightened on whichever side of the religious fence you are in, then you’re nothing but a Robo capped religious clown. So shut up and join the first group.

The most powerful way to learn is by absorption, and that is why initial religious beliefs, though not taught in black and white, has a very tight grip on the minds of a lot of people. Everyone has a right to their beliefs and unless you understand what’s happening on “their” side of the fence, don’t stereotype or sit down in your umpire seat and judge anyone. Why?

Simply because everything we know, we learnt.

Cheers!

Shout-out to Akeem/Joshua and every other person who have switched from one religion to another (That’s a huge personal decision). I hope y’all made the right choice at the end of the day.

Mature Minds Talk

Warning:

The following story you’re about to read is not in any way fictitious. This is a true life account of the writer. Names, Characters, Places, and so on are NOT the work of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is pure reality.

******************

I wasn’t sure if I was running or levitating. The adrenalin injection must’ve switched off my brain and allowed my legs do all the thinking. Sh!t had hit the ceiling and it was about to go down! The wind was apparently blowing against my body and I could feel it flap against my ears. It assured me my ears were still stuck to my head and I had not outrun them. There was no one to calculate my speed but surely Usain Bolt could’ve been watching and taking notes.

It was a matter of life and death and I was running like a mad man. “God! How did it come to this?!”

The second leg of my slippers went up in the air. Now I was running completely barefooted. The compassionate part of me wanted to look back to check the fate of my accomplice but I just couldn’t. I could hear running footsteps closely behind me. “If I can get back into my hostel unharmed lord, I won’t wait till the chapel prefects came to chase us to the chapel on Sunday.”

I heard one loud swoosh closely behind me and with one last frantic grunt, I accelerated!

********15 Minutes Earlier********

“Elijah!... Elijah, wake up!” Someone whispered loudly into my right ear

“Wuyi… What are you doing awake?” I tried to keep my voice down.

“There’s water at hand-pump. Let’s go fetch.” Wuyi pulled out my bucket from under my bed.

“Are you crazy?!” I checked my watch and saw 1:20am “You know those ‘Eboode’ guys would be out by now; right?”

Adewuyi had resilience written all over his face. I must’ve over-pumped confidence into him from our conversation earlier in the afternoon. We were in JSS1, and Wuyi was the last person you’d expect to take these kind of risks but desperate times called for desperate measures.

It was the dry season in Federal Government College; Ikirun. Water hadn’t really been our best resource and dry seasons only made things worse. Junior students practically dug up the soil to get water in a valley we called “Stream” (it was actually just a reservoir). Those who could, travelled with two buckets. Why? Simply because seniors had their buckets strategically placed along your way back and through your donations, you could easily leave the stream with a full bucket of water, and return to the hostel with an empty bucket.

Two days had passed since I last had my bath and trust me, I was among the few lucky ones. Some had gone a week. To drink water, we would simply collect “any” water in the typical 5-litres keg, place a clean white singlet over the mouth of the keg and drink up (You’d always see a brown circle on the piece of clothing when you’re done). A bush animal had died inside the reservoir for about a week now, but rather than thirst to death, boys drank with faith.

We had had it up to here, and I told Wuyi that if not for the Vigilantes that patrolled the wide school premises at night, ensuring that we observed “Lights Out” I would’ve gone to fetch water in the dead of the night. I wasn’t sure which one students were more afraid of – The evil Bush-Babies famed for carrying a magic mat and hypnotizing students to do their bidding, or the evil Vigilantes (or “Eboode” as we called them), famed for carrying about, a long charmed whip. Some students have reported firsthand that one lash, and you could go crazy for a couple of minutes.

I and Wuyi fed off each other’s energy, as the water filled our buckets. We heard Bush-Baby cries afar off but they were the least of our concerns. Everywhere was dead quiet and pitch black, you could hardly see what was in front of you. Just as soon as we had lifted the handleless buckets unto our heads, two dark figures emerged from the bush behind the massive water tanks (I wonder why we called that place “hand-pump” anyway).

My heart sunk in my stomach.

I would gladly chose to be hypnotized by a Bush-Baby, than confront an “Eboode!” any time, any day. Here we were, hosting not one, but two them. The thick black figured, giant looking, whip-hungry things approached us slowly. “Jesus! Isn’t rapture overdue already?” The testimonies I’d heard from various Eboode’s victims, replayed in my head. I realized I was shivering – The bucket was still on my head. Barely.

“So you guys don’t know that it’s a punishable offence to disobey Lights Out?” The one facing us asked (in Yoruba).

“We’re sorry sir!” We chorused.

“So you’re more desperate for water than others abi?” He was slowly moving closer.

“We’re sorry sir!”

It was so dark, all I could see was the yellow bucket on Wuyi’s head. Adrenalin was gradually shutting my brain down and flowing to my feet. In one instant, I saw the Eboode raise his whip and before my rational mind could weigh options, I bolted like a mad man. I wasn’t sure if they chased us but I was sure I completed a 200m distance in approximately 9 seconds. That’s a mad man’s record – Beat it!

A few seconds later, Wuyi bursted into the Juniors’ hostel and for a second we looked at each other, panting like wild dogs. Without saying a word to each other. We simply retired to our beds and called it a night.

Mature Minds Talk

Florence looked into thin air, head slightly bent down, one thumb rubbing aimlessly on her other thumb. I know her outward appearance was nothing compared to what she was feeling deep inside. She finally cleared her throat, and continued our conversation.

“I’m studying Industrial Chemistry presently but I don’t have an iota of passion for it. I love to write and writing is the number one thing that gives me joy. Sometimes, I lock myself away from the world and write away for hours. Nothing else can take that much of my time. I’m single now though, so I don’t know how it’ll be when I have a partner, since he’ll also need a portion of my time and attention.”

“That’s great!” I replied “As a writer myself, I love it when young minds say these things. It means there are still solid go-getters in the creative space.”

For the first time during our conversation, she looked me in the eyes. Her eyes looked forlorn, and they were full of questions.

“But I don’t think I want to write anymore. My friends are telling me to be serious and realistic with my life. They say writing is not a lucrative field and I can’t be as financially comfortable as I want to be. They said even though I’m a good writer, while my mates are working in banks, oil and gas firms, building & construction companies, health, insurance, and the rest, I’ll be scribbling words that people may not even read. Also they said…”

She went on and on, pouring out all she had held up inside and I sat there attentively, patiently waiting for her to finish her very valid epistle. It was a very long epistle of someone with skepticism in the efficacy of her passion.

“Florence, if what you studied in school should solely and strictly determine how rich you become, would you have studied Industrial Chemistry?”

“I don’t think so”

“What then would you have studied?” I asked, resting back in my seat.

“Banking and Finance… Maybe” She replied with a slight giggle.

“Excellent reply. But do you know why bankers aren’t the richest people in the world?”

“Err… Why?”

“Simply because according to my personal stat and from close interaction and observation, 80% of bankers don’t even know how they ended up there, what they’re still doing there, or when they’ll leave there. Cash isn’t money to them but tools of the trade. Just the same way a lot of people, due to pressure have turned themselves into professional robots, dying slowly from the routine, living solely for month end.

We live in a world where a lot of fishes are up in the sky with borrowed wings, praying and yearning for water; and a lot of birds are deep down in the waters, drowning and gasping for air. A wise man once told me – You don’t want to get to the top of your career ladder, only to realize it has been placed against the wrong wall.

Florence, your friends, just like the society have lied! Look at people like John Grisham, Stephen King, James Patterson and “Mummy” J.K. Rowling and see the truth. Exactly what makes you tick, should make you rich. Fan that little fire of your passion. Fan it so hard and make the whole world feel the heat. Hope that answers your question”

To every Florence out there – Go and build a business around your passion, so you understand how it feels, being paid to do “nothing”.

Mature Minds Talk.

In an electrifying atmosphere at Wembley, for the home team, it was just a case of stepping onto the pitch, trying to get a grasp of their raging hearts, as Tony Britten’s 1992 “Champions League” anthem filled the stadium, transcending what would have just been 22 players, running on semi synthetic grass, kicking the round leather beauty… To gladiators in an arena, trying not make eye contact with the “Mighty Galacticos”.

They knew better than to be deceived by the handshakes. The arena would soon be soaked damp with the sweat of the gladiators. 11 of them hungry to right the wrongs of a fortnight ago, that made the lowly Spurs pick the Galacticos’ pockets and escape with a point at the Bernabue. Worse still, in front of 81,044 onlookers. Tonight is a night for redemption.

Oh you gotta be ready! The reigning champions, unbeaten in their previous 30 (Champions League) battles are paying you an unfriendly visit. If you like matters worse, the gladiator, who some believe is not from Portugal, but a Greek demigod from the lineage of Zeus, also has his feet down on your front yard. Oh you gotta be ready. It could quickly become a Halloween party in the blink of an eye.

There was just one question on everyone’s mind – “Can they pick the Galacticos’ pockets for a point and escape again?”

With the match still in its infancy, it began to become clearer that the lowly Spurs understood the fact that they somewhat had nothing to lose. They had lost their last two domestic games, and if they made it a hat-trick of loses here, everyone would’ve gone “It’s Real Madrid. They had a slim chance of winning in the first place”. It became clear that Dele “David” Alli brought a few stones to test on the visiting Spanish Goliath.

You bet it was an end-to-end affair. A clash that left many wide-eyed. While the visiting team tried to boss around the pitch, the home side stuck their guts to discipline, rode on the back of belief and were determined to “die put” (pardon my French). Oh well, by the 66th minute of the game, the lowly Spurs were having a party. Rather than show the “Mighty Galacticos” around their home, they had simply taken them to the laundry room.

Dele Alli and his brothers-in-arms, had ensured the defending champions had a really quiet flight back to Spain, after suffering their biggest aggregate defeat in a competition they’ve won more times than any other team. A look at the team stats and you’ll understand that football can never be judged on paper. The only thing the home team had done more was “Fouls”. Throughout the span of 90minutes, they had just “One Corner” (Don’t you dare sing!).

I think having sights like these is a privilege for football lovers with a deeper sense of absorption. Anything is possible, and any record is breakable. Belief is key! A proud night it was for Tottenham Hotspur and especially for the Englishman – Dele Alli, who’ll like you to explain in the comment section below, exactly why you don’t like football.

Mature Minds Talk.

Yup! You read that right.

Call me crazy, but this year alone, it’s the eleventh time everyone is going on and on, wishing everyone (probably except themselves) a happy new month. Statuses are flying like missiles here and there – “Happy New Month”; “November to Remember”; “New Month, New Me” (heck! You said that last month. Are you practicing to be a chameleon or something?).

At the end of every month, I take a reflective look at the month just before its expiration and not only do I realize, but I note the couple of occasions where I took the easy option. I note where I could’ve done more, and count things I never got around to do. After this, I shift my focus to what I was able to get done, and fill my spirit with extreme gratitude.

It’s a new month but I’d rather not get too caught up in the euphoria of the new month and forget how to make the month new. I’d rather change the errors of last month, than change my WhatsApp status, and I’d rather tell us to go make it an actual “New” month, than to “Wish” us a “Happy New Month”. If we don’t make the month different from the last, then what’s happy about the (new) month?

Now, it’s time to rethink, recalibrate, and re-strategize. It’s time to stop procrastinating on those plans since the beginning of the year, and do it afraid. It’s time to take the leap off the cliff and develop wings, mid-air. It’s time to stop with the over-analysis that only leads to paralysis. Dam, it’s time to expose ourselves to uncomfortable but productive behavioural conditions.

Every month comes bearing fresh opportunities. It’s our job to recognize them and seize them. The previous month is gone and gone forever. Reminiscing on what we “Should’ve”, “Would’ve”, “Could’ve” done, wouldn’t take us back in time. Let’s take the new month with gratitude and fortitude, ensuring that this month actually is a new month.

Applying a different approach to the hustle, grinding like we’ve been promised the whole of Wall Street, staying woke like a hungry tiger, and praying like it’s the only thing needed to see results. If we float through the month without making intentional decisions and taking productive actions, we’d realize at the end that there was nothing new about the month after all.

Wishing you a super-productive month.

Let’s go make big things happen.

Yes We Can!

Happy New Month! (oh well).

Mature Minds Talk

MAN – Such beings of curiosity!

Man; always questioning, always searching. From the beginning of time, after curiosity became the undoing of man and he fell short of the divine expectations; amongst a few other consequences, Man was stripped of the gift of IMMORTALITY. A gift which for many years to come would continually be sought with sorrow, tears, grit and blood.

Words have flown around of a hidden place in Africa where water springs from an undiscoverable source. Water, which when drank can make you invisible to the Grim Reaper. Water called the “Fountain of Youth”. Noah, Sarah, or whoever is reading this note. Pay attention! I think I may have found the secret to immortality, and this secret stands independent of CURIOSITY.

I have studied the lives of a number of mortals who have walked on this same earth as we presently do, and breathed the same air. I have written about a few of them and I have made a shocking discovery! I think these mortals have something in common. I couldn’t quite understand it at first but the more I gave in to my curiosity, allowing it do my head in, the more it became clearer to me – These mortals did find the secret to IMMORTALITY.

At this point, understand that “death” isn’t necessarily when the cells of your flesh reach their regeneration limit and you have to step out of it. No! That is merely but a transition. Death is simply the absence of life. So what is LIFE? One of the meanings you’ll find in your dictionary is this – “A Worthwhile Existence”. That pretty much sums it all up, and explains why some mortals have their cells still regenerating, but are DEAD.

When you find what makes your existence worthwhile and you give everything you have to the fulfillment of that thing, then you are fully living. I mean when your existence ceases to be just about you. Understand that this is exactly what I found that those “IMMORTALS” have in common. They found what made their existence worthwhile, and DEATH became just another word to them. They lived, transitioned, and came back to LIFE.

Noah, Sarah, or whoever is reading this note. The secret I have found is to pour a portion of your life into as many other lives as you can. You also do not have all day, so you have to do that as fast as you can. Find what makes your existence worthwhile. You will know, when your existence ceases to be just about you. Don’t just pass through life; No, those people I studied didn’t take that path. They lived for others. They found what made it all WORTHWHILE.

Do the same and watch how you live from generations to generations. Guess what, I just had a conversation with Mahatma Gandhi and I’ll tell you what he told me. He said “Jay, live as though you will die tomorrow, and learn as though you will live forever.” Mother Theresa then smiled and said she thought you’d like to know that “You alone cannot change the world, but you can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples.” Another friend told me “When a man has done what he considers to be his duty to his people (and his country), he can rest in PEACE”.

MLK saw the how overwhelmed I was, thinking of how to take this path of IMMORTALITY, the same path I want you, reading this, to take and with a pat on my left shoulder, he said – “See Jay, life’s most persistent and urgent question is: What are you doing for others?”

And then it hit me – “If you want to live forever; live for OTHERS”. That is the secret to IMMORTALITY.

Mature Minds Talk.

I took one last look at the head pastor from the church gate, he was already attending to other “brethren”. I shook my head and dusted my shoes (figuratively). I’m not stepping foot in this church ever again. But the question that kept coming to my mind was – Why are Christians like this? Why do we think the highest level of favour you can do for me is to pray for me? Why do you think prayer is what everyone needs?

Please don’t pray for me.

Just the same morning, as I was about entering the church premises, a little kid walked up to me. His short was torn, I wasn’t sure if to call what he was wearing a shirt. There were little kids like that in the area. They were called furoti man’na (meaning Street Kids). I brought out my offering and handed it over to him as that was all I had on me to give and somehow, I felt God himself must've looked down at me with a bright smile and a pat on the back.

If anything, his prayer for breakfast has been answered. What he needed right there and then, even though I was going into the house of prayer wasn’t my prayers. He needed something in his tummy. Most people in this part of the world, Christians especially, are only experts in praying for others. Someone is hungry and you’re telling him the Lord is in control. But the Lord has not controlled you to give him that small change in your pocket; I guess.

Keep your prayers.

There’s a sister in church who has been looking for a job for three years, and your firm recruits bi-annually. Instead of announcing it in church, so people would send in their CVs. (Maybe you might just be the answer to her prayers), you’ll rather tell her the Lord will provide the best. Yea right, not just from your company.

We should pray for another as Christians of course, but why pray when you can help? As I walked into the church, I overheard the head pastor telling another pastor that he’ll need a business admin to manage his budding water company. I was extra joyful during service ‘cos that is my field. I walked up to the head pastor and told him how I’ve been jobless since the beginning of the year and my experiences as a business admin.

I was sincerely expecting him to see me as the answer to his prayers but instead told me to kneel down for prayers. After the prayers, I kept walking away slowly, all the while looking back. Nothing. Giving is every individual’s prerogative but we can’t always deny that as Christians we know that it is better to give than to receive (and sometimes to pray). Even though prayer is the key, a lot of people still die at the door.

Not because they don’t have the key but they don’t have the strength to turn the key and even walk through the door. Don’t pray like the Pharisees; save it for needs that can’t be met immediately. If you can meet someone’s needs, don’t pray for him. Meet his needs and let him go. If you sincerely can’t, pray he finds someone who can.

If everyone resorted to just praying for the victims of the floods around the world, without rendering immediate help, then what exactly is the essence of the prayer. Don’t remind me about Joel Osteen (I’m not going to point fingers).

Just have it at the back of your mind whenever I ask you for help, and it’s within your capacity, then help me. Don’t pray for me.

Shalom.

Mature Minds Talk

“Women don’t have sense! Seriously, no iota of sense is in their heads. They make their stupidity get the best of them, then they play the victim.”

I kept my gaze fixed on Rotimi (“The Cool G” as close pals called him), as I sat in his office and I could see the fire in his eyes. Whatever his wife had done this time, really got to him. But even at that, I could also see someone who needed help and needed it fast. I cleared my throat to speak.

“But you can’t just say women don’t have sense. That’s a wild generalization” I said, shifting a bit in my seat. “Even your wife who’s acting up now, would soon come around and everything will be fine. You know if…”

“Ok, what exactly is my offence?” He cut in quickly “I’ve thought and thought about this whole thing and can’t seem to find where my fault is. See o… I set up two businesses for my darling wife; both crashed. I didn’t complain. I set up the third and that’s my sin. I’ve been the one cheering her on,

every step of the way. I’m not claiming to be a saint, but I’ve never disrespected my wife in any way.

If anything happens now, everyone will start shouting Domestic Violence, DV, Men are scum and all sorts. See Jay, let me tell you something. For the past three days, I’ve not gone home straight after leaving work. I buy Boli and fish with Suya on my way home, then I park three streets away, eat and sleep. I set my alarm for 1am, then I wake up and go home. Oh! You’re surprise abi

Please tell me what I’m supposed to do when my wife has married her business and left me to return to bachelorhood? Tell me na. She leaves for work around 7am, and returns around 11pm. She has staff o. At first I felt like ok, she was just trying to reward my efforts and trust by ensuring this business survives and I was keeping up with it.

But then, when I began to feel really lonely, I called her and told her that we we’re losing touch, and asked her if anything was the matter. I told she might want to take her foot off the pedal a bit on her business. Just so she can see other things going on around her. She didn’t act as if what I said just made her realize anything. She just said “Ok” and nothing changed. I’ve called her and spoken to her on several occasions after then but each time she makes me regret it.

She talks back at me and tells me to stop disturbing her life. That she’s a driven career person. Imagine! Now, it has escalated to exchange of words and verbal abuse. I wonder why all those Feminists idiots don’t shine enough light on verbal abuse and its psychological effect. My madam has said some words to me that even my parents have never said to me. Anytime she does that, I’ll just pick up my car keys and drive off.

I’ve promised myself never to talk to her about this issue again. I know she’s pushing me outside, but I respect my vows to the last drop of blood in my veins. The one I’ll not take is someone talking to my mother. We had a heated argument day before yesterday and she said something and mentioned my mum. I didn’t hear it clearly and I asked her to repeat herself. God just saved her that she didn’t, ‘cos all hells and heavens would have been let loose. If we ever argue and she mentions my mum... My mum… The kind of slap I’ll give her ehn, I swear, her mum will feel it.

I’ll never support any form of violence but God help the person that tries to call my mum with their stupid mouth. Those idiotic activists would just be talking as if their brains have been replaced with noodles. Saying there’s nothing a woman can do that warrants a man hitting her. When she was in the bank, could she talk like that to her boss? Or can she talk like that to a bus conductor if they’ll not blacken her eye?

See Jay, everyone has elastic limit and the moment…”

“I gotta get back to work Rotimi” I quickly chipped in (I’ve heard people who have issues in their marriages can rant for hours).

“No wahala bro… We’ll see after work.”

“See for another round of rant? Just bundle your wife and go see a counsellor instead please” I thought to myself as I made my way out of his office.

“Alright na. Later” I said, shutting the door behind me.

Mature Minds Talk.

GONE ARE THE DAYS!

TO MY WOMAN CRUSH WEDNESDAY

GHOST THROUGH THE BLOCK

DON'T DIE ON MONDAY

EVERYTHING WE KNOW, WE LEARNT

I RAN SO FAST, I ALMOST RAN MAD

WHO WRITING EPP?!

EXPLAIN TO DELE, WHY YOU DON'T LIKE FOOTBALL

WHAT'S HAPPY ABOUT THE NEW MONTH?

THE SECRET TO IMMORTALITY

DON'T PRAY FOR ME

WOMEN DON'T HAVE SENSE

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