We are at the end...or perhaps the beginning?

Well this year has been hard work! They don't tell you this when you're grazing your knees or eating sand but the older you get the tougher the years become. 

8 days into 2013 I surprised myself by making a list of "resolutions". I have to say looking back at that list fills me with gratitude and pride. God has definitely been good to me this year. Could I have done better? Most definitely! Was I as bad at keeping the resolutions as I thought I would be? Not even remotely. So perhaps it is safe to say that I have changed my mind somewhat about resolutions...

TIPS 

What I will say about resolutions is be vague. I'm not saying be complete obscure just don't get bogged down in the specifics. At least that worked for me. If you say to yourself I want to lose exactly 12.39kg this year and I wont be happy otherwise it becomes a little more difficult to maintain, not to mention unrealistic. However if you say I'd like to be healthier this year, you'll able to achieve the same thing without beating yourself up about it or worse still hurting yourself in the process. 

Which brings me to my second point - don't pressure yourself. Yes it is good to set goals you want to achieve but no it is not okay to make yourself feel awful if you miss the mark. Missing the mark is practically human nature so cut yourself some slack. 

Thirdly tell someone about it. This advice was given to me in my second year of university and I have seen it in action more than once this year. If you share a goal you are trying to achieve you are more inclined to stick with it because not only would you disappoint yourself if you don't, you run the risk of disappoint those you've told. So tell someone, preferably someone who will hold you accountable or who you wouldn't want to let down. And even if you end up not sticking to it to begin with, there is added motivation to get back on track.

And finally have fun with it. There is no reason why your New Year's Resolution can't be you indulging yourself a bit more. We often see them as an excuse to break bad habits and perhaps that's what put me off to begin with. You can break a bad habit at any point during the year. If your liver was failing you wouldn't put off your no-alcohol diet till the New Year. So make it something light hearted, for your own enjoyment. 

I hope you guys have a safe, blissful and exciting entry into the New Year. God bless and keep you. See you on the other side!

P.S. 

I still don't know what to do for the holiday and I have 2 days off work! Any ideas? Also what will you guys be up to?

THIS IS NOT A REVIEW: War Reporter by Mohamed Amine Boukhris

There is a common misconception in journalism, one that I have had a problem with for as long as I have known of it. It is, to me, a very Western ideology, the belief that journalists in all walks of life should be passive observers simply relaying 'truth'. It is something that I would see changed.

Perhaps there was a time when this could have been the case. Perhaps there are still branches of journalism where passive reporting should be the go to method though I am unable (or maybe unwilling) to think of one such scenario. Whatever the case maybe, I think it is fair to say that front-line journalism really ought to be an exception to the rule. What we ought to realise as journalists and as citizens is that we are seeking the impossible. These aren't robots covering the stories for our pleasure and our viewing. These are people; they feel, they bleed, they die. And unfortunately as one of the reporters featured in the documentary put it, the only time they are noticed is in death. When reporters die, are kidnapped or injured in war zones they become an event all of their own. That in itself is interference. You cannot stick living, breathing people in the middle of a war and then say 'don't interfere'. What in heavens name do you think their very presence is? If you want a science experiment get lab rats. These are human lives.

To watch this documentary without feeling some kind of emotion is a challenge and I dare say an impossible one. It's easy enough to hop on Reporters Without Borders on your laptop and chant statistics about the death of journalists but this is real. Emotive and thought provoking as it was, I would highly recommend it for those who have the opportunity. Although it's focus is mainly in the Arab world (Northern Africa included), this is a global story.

For more information on the documentary visit the Dubai International Film Festival webpage or watch the Trailer on YouTube

How to do that fashion thing...

Step 1: PANIC!

Victoria Strange

Victoria Strange

Step 2: Go to church and pray that an outfit manifests itself...

Step 3: Print out invites (just in case)

Step 4: Go back to manning the panic stations!!

Modupe Omonze

Modupe Omonze

Step 5: Empty your wardrobe onto the bed.

Step 6: Obsess about that zit that shows up just in time!

Step 7: Pick an outfit and get a move on

Step 8: Enjoy the show

Tina Lobondi

Tina Lobondi

Tina Lobondi

Step 9: Meet your favourite designer from the night

L-R: Chisom aka Roomie; The amazing Tina Lobondi; ME

Step 10: Attempt to after party, then quit, then go home feeling slicker than your average/exhausted.

Purpose and Direction.

I have no idea what I'm having fro breakfast tomorrow morning or what I'm wearing to school. I still need to double check the time and location of my classes. I don't quite remember how long it usually takes for me to get to school from home around that time of the day. In actuality there is a lot that I do not know and probably a lot more that I am uncertain about in terms of the recent future. But ask me what plans I have for 5-10 years time and you are in for the rant of your life. I finally have the ever elusive purpose and direction that I have been lacking in my life and let me tell you, they are important elements to have.

I recently paid the motherland a long overdue visit. For once I enjoyed my flight and my visit. My month long vacation was packed full of life changing experiences. Furthermore, Nigeria is beginning to feel like home again. I can't really tell you why...Maybe I'm getting bored of Dubai. Maybe being around Nigerians so much in the last few years has finally allowed me to fully embrace my roots. Whatever it is, for the first time since I first left the comfort of my country I was sad to say "see you soon". I think this has a lot to do with my sudden realisations of what I would like to do with my future.

If you had asked me a couple of years ago what I'd like to do after studying, I'd probably have said something along the lines of wanting to travel and write. That's rather poetic but incredibly vague and not very promising. Now I'm finally making concrete plans of when and where I want to travel to, what I want to do and write about and most importantly where I would like to be based. Of course it's not something I readily admit to those who know me well, but I actually do want to live in Nigeria. I revisited parts of my country that I had all but forgotten and that was what reminded me of why it was so hard to leave in the first place. Not only do I have plans to live in Nigeria, I know what I want to do while I'm there. I now know how I want to help my country!!

YES I am excited. But I can't share the details of my plans I'm afraid. Moreover they wont be put into action for a few more years so lets all suffer the long wait together shall we??

P. S.
It's nice for you to stop by even when I'm not around to keep up appearances as it were...Thank you all for your support. 

Patriotic in Diaspora

It's taken me a couple of weeks to write this. Here goes.

It's very easy for Nigerian's that are based outside the country to come to the conclusion that they are homesick, that they miss the food, the people, the land, the culture. And perhaps they do. But it is also surprisingly easy for us to forget that Nigeria is not the idolised country of our idealistic and naive childhood. Things are different. The people have changed. The country is crumbling. The government has gotten worse. We have our own in-house terrorists. Our land is terminally ill but because there is so much attacking our immune system we can't even figure out what the source is.

I was at Miango Rest Home in a little town not too far away from Jos in the middle belt of Nigeria for a 3-day retreat. Beautiful scenery. Amazing food. Great exercise. Everything was good and the people were funny and lovely. But being there for those three days was like being out of the country; I was beginning to live in a kind of blissful oblivion, forgetting the Nigeria that existed elsewhere. On the day we were leaving everyone we had met came to say goodbye. People here were so friendly that somewhere in my head I assured myself that what I knew wasn't true. I told myself that Nigeria hadn't changed at all! Of course not! I grew up in this country that was now making international headlines for all the wrong reasons. IF we had nothing else, we would always have our solidarity. But you can't sing solidarity with your brother one day and set him on fire the next.

On our way back home I changed my mind again. We hadn't wandered far from Miango Rest Home when my sister stopped to get some fresh vegetables from a market. (trust me cheapest bestest veg in the country!! lol). I stayed in the car with my nieces and watched through the window as my sister bartered fiercely with the women in their stalls. My eye suddenly caught movement in one of the car mirrors and I watched with a tightened jaw as a man was led by a rope through the market, a small crowd following and ridiculing him. The first thought that came to my mind was ALUU4. If you don't know what that is look into it but be warned it is gruesome. The entire story centred around the brutal murder of 4 allegedly innocent university students in the southern part of Nigeria late last year. The phrase in the media at that time was Jungle Justice-citizens taking justice into their own hands.

In all fairness to them, if there was justice in the justice system perhaps they wouldn't feel the need to take theirs to the jungle. Nevertheless all I could do was watch angrily as the man was paraded around the little market. As they left I couldn't help but wonder what would become of him. Would he be killed or set free? How would they kill him? I concluded there that my country had changed, not because there hadn't been similar cases when I was younger, not because Nigeria was some peaceful country in my childhood. My country had changed because it had evolved to the point where solidarity alone just wouldn't do any more. Words alone wouldn't do. Making far fetched plans for an ever changing future wouldn't do. We are worth more than words.

I hear people my age outside of Nigeria making plans and they are often divided into 2 main categories: those that are happy staying outside of Nigeria with the knowledge they have gathered. They are too scared or too nonchalant to go back home and make a change with everything that they've become. Then we have the ones that are all too happy to return to Nigeria to continue perpetuating the sins of their fathers. Very few people fall into the gap in the middle, those who want to help. But I've watched a lot of them fumble around in the dark because although they want to help, no one really knows how.

I'm not here to offer any insight or sage advice. I have my own plans. My thoughts today can be summed up in the fact that it is easy to love or judge from a distance. Come home and tell me how you really feel when you see kids bathing in a gutter, alleged criminals being paraded, shamed and killed, police officers putting up signs that say you cannot bribe them but still managing to extract money from your pocket before you leave the check point. Tell me how much you love the motherland after watching her bare all.

Home, Home on the Range.

It's a different experience every time I come to Nigeria. This time the journey was pleasurable thankfully...I seemed to have come to terms (somewhat) with my fear of flying. Next step, water...

Any way being 'home' has riled up a few emotions and I am looking to write some political fiction. The ideas are still taking shape and I'm unsure about a lot of things. But I think it's about time I pulled my weight and wrote something long and meaningful. I just finished a piece on domestic abuse which was quite lengthy and a lot of fun to write. (If you want to read it, you'll have to keep up with Duvera Magazine where it will be published in chapter-like chunks over a period of time). So I am basically trying to do more lengthy prose. And of course I'm trying to write things that affect my race, gender, generation and people, things that they will deem meaningful so to speak. My brewing idea is gradually taking shape and I think it might make a good screenplay but I might just stick to what I know for now (I'm not particularly confident or comfortable with writing dialogue to be perfectly honest). My last piece took me about a year to write which makes me feel like I need to be very patient for this one. I might think of publishing a series. Plans, plans, plans!!!

I'm telling you all this to hold myself accountable, to motivate myself to finish what I start for a change. Besides I'm getting to the point where the curse of independence and growing up is going to fully set in which means I'll barely have time to sleep, never mind write. There is so much to think about.

But as for this moment I am home and I have some time on my hands so I might as well get to it!!

I'll keep you posted...

6 Months In & All IS NOT Lost. Hoorah 2013!!

So I should have done this right at the 6 month mark (i.e.) end of June. But all writers are lazy procrastinators no matter what lies we tell you. Besides there were more ground breaking things happening at the time.

You might remember, though I barely remember myself, that I made some "New Year Resolutions" at the start of the year?? Well I'm glad to say that I have kept them...for the most part. This is not to say that I haven't lost my way (many times might I add) but so far so good. So by keeping in the spirit of things I'm renewing my personal vows to myself and carrying on with aforementioned resolutions, God give me grace. I have amazing friends (I don't tell them enough) who keep me grounded and sane when I lose my way. I moan all the time (next year's resolutions-stop moaning and going on tangents in speech and writing), but I have this amazing God and He always gives me a reason to smile and thank him even when my world is seemingly falling apart.

Anyway, through the divine grace of God I'm making even more plans. Some of them might be pipe dreams but I pray at least one of them comes to fruition and brings me joy. I have more outlets to write now (will keep you posted). Overall I am genuinely pleased as to how my year has gone. I happy about the changes I've made and I just have to keep going no matter what. I CAN'T GET DISTRACTED...wish me luck

Note to all confused people (including myself)

• I wrote this while tired
• I have an early start tomorrow
• I am hungry 
• I'm starting my 3rd year soon-can you believe it!
• I am still hungry
• Oh results were kinda average but better than I expected :D
• Did I mention the hunger (already had dinner by the way)
• Oh I cut my hair!! I might indulge you and put pictures up soon...might...

BYE!!!

Self-Taught Woman

This one is going to be long, so get comfortable guys and gals.

I'm not much of a feminist-not in the puritan sense of the word. I often laugh uncontrollably at sexist jokes, dance to sexist music that gives detailed directions on how to further objectify your body (albeit in jest), and use sexist language, all this after years of compulsory and independent study on and around the subjects of gender roles, feminism, post feminism and other forms of prejudice. For those who willingly admit it, I'm the worst kind of woman-A BLACK WOMAN. Not only is my skin against me, my choice of reproductive organs have also joined the coup. Thankfully I couldn't care less. After all I think like a genius, look like a goddess and have the firm handshake of a...of a...man?

I wasn't brought up with a superfluity of men in my life; I was raised by strong women. And although I learnt from their strengths and weaknesses, I was never told what kind of woman to be. All that was self taught over years of watching many such strong women up close and some times from afar. So imagine my surprise and disappointment when I realised how much I had become a product of society. Bye bye girl power. Hello self-doubt.

Over the last few weeks I subconsciously started re-learning what it means to be a strong willed, self-taught woman. It started with God. My Pastor briefly mentioned a plan that would help you read the books of Psalms and Proverbs over the period of a month. As I decided to start the journey, I remember getting excited about Proverbs 31. Now for many Christian women Proverbs 31 is the go-to chapter when in doubt about anything from your role and identity to your faith and independence. Undoubtedly many non-Christians will take this time to remind me of the sexist nature of the Bible. To them I present this:

"She looks at land and buys it, and with money she has earned she plants a vineyard" 

Proverbs 31: 16

"She spins her own thread and weaves her own cloth" 

Proverbs 31: 19

"She makes clothes and belts, and sells them to merchants. She is strong and respected and not afraid of the future. She speaks with a gentle wisdom."

Proverbs 31: 24-26

Of course we could nit pick about a million and one things surrounding this, but this is my little way of showing you that contrary to popular belief the Bible did in fact cater to women, despite the circumstances of the times in which it was writing about, written and published. But I digress...

In anticipation of reading this chapter I was unusually alert about gender equality especially in the Bible and in the Church. So of course my ears stood on end when the subject of the submissive wife was approached. I could hear the many chants of the modern feminist but I chose to keep an open mind. The Pastor's  wife who spoke briefly on her active understanding of the role of a submissive wife, said many things that I took away with me that day. But what stuck the most was the most simple of truths. The meaning of the word "submissive" like many other words in our lexicon today, has shifted drastically. Of course I couldn't verify on the spot, but my mind returned to a musty A-Level's English Language classroom with a man that looked well beyond his years teaching us the many ways in which words lose and gain meaning, both negative and positive, over time. 

Fast forward a month, and I'm flicking through my copy of The New English Dictionary published in 1932, when I decided to look up the meaning of submissive. After my initial excitement I compared the meaning to that of the eight edition of the Little Oxford English Dictionary published in 2002. Admittedly 70 years didn't make as much of a difference as I thought it would and a quick Google search showed me that the first acknowledged and complete translation of the Bible into English happened a good 500 years before my 1932 dictionary. Nevertheless my findings excited me. There is more than one definition in both dictionaries but I'll stick to the ones that are of interest to us.

1932

Submit: To yield or surrender oneself; to put forward deferentially; to yield, to surrender, to give in.

Submission: Compliance. Obedience. Resignation. Meekness.

2002

Submit: To give in to the authority, control, or greater strength of someone or something. Subject to a particular process. 

Submissive: Very obedient or passive.

First I think it is worth noting that the language changed enough in those 70 years that submission is only defined in terms of handing in work in the 2002 dictionary. Now to the main gist of it all. Whereas in 1932 submission is seen as a willing act of respect and the choice of humility, it seems that today it is viewed as a passive act of being controlled. The 2002 definition places great focus on strength and weakness while the 1932 definition focuses more on willing meekness. It's no wonder then that the idea of submitting to God (never mind your husband!!) is something that terrifies most of us today. Language teaches us that by submitting we are being forced to put control of our lives in someone else's hands. Ironic really, considering it's an action word...

Now let me go back to why I gathered you all here to waste your time. Like many things that began before our generation was even a concept in the human mind, feminism has lost a lot of meaning. It has also gained a lot of unflattering meaning and many modern feminists think so what?! Let it be unflattering; it's not a pretty little dress and pigtails, it's not meant to be an easy pill to swallow. I suppose in many ways they are right. However, it does have the tendency to go from educational to outrageous all too quickly and so many women find themselves saying out loud, "I am not a feminist". They're claiming not to be something without even being sure what being that thing means!

For me, in the simplest of terms Feminism is Equality. I don't aim to overpower any man or live without men, I don't want to make up for years of their sexism by being sexist myself, I don't want the world to be split jaggedly in half. I want to be treated with respect and equality in all things. I remembered what feminism meant to me after a necessary conversation with a friend from work and it is reiterated every day on my twitter page when I see the handle @EverydaySexism. Honestly following this twitter account will change your life. And if you're curious about how it started?? Here you go http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBeNfSoMqjY Don't say I never do anything for you.

Thank you for following me on my little nerdy journey and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed haphazardly putting it together. 

Montage...Reminders of an African Childhood

This is the final piece I wrote for the magazine project. It is basically a short culture piece. A few of us did one. It focuses on an aspect of a culture the writer knows a bit about and you provide some interesting information about said culture to the readers. I really liked this one because I got a bit nostalgic writing it. Oh it also comes with an image because it would make absolutely no sense to most people otherwise. This one was a bit light hearted so enjoy.

Reminders of an African Childhood

My guess is the name varies across all the many tribes in Nigeria but the Yoruba people call it ayo. It’s a game most people learnt to play with their fathers or grandfathers. Me? I learnt by watching other people, siblings, uncles and even my mother. It’s fairly easy to pick up if you watch a couple of rounds. The one we had while I was growing up was larger and it was set on the back of a rather ugly looking eagle carved out of wood. The statue which I now remember as being quite grotesque was actually what attracted me to the game to start with! I spent so much time tracing all the kinks and crevices of the carving with my finger and I remember being quite taken with the beak. This one is relatively smaller and simpler and belongs to my sister. I had all but forgotten about it till I found this at her house over Christmas.

Montage...Making Something Out of Nothing

This one is a bit close to home which is probably why it took me a while to post it up on here. Also the timing might seem a bit off now but the main message is still relevant I think. 

Making Something out of Nothing

As Nigeria embarks on the final leg of what has been an epic AFCON (African Cup of Nations) journey, I can’t help but think of all the bad publicity we have gotten lately. From the menace that is Boko Haram to the timeworn story of corruption, it seems we’ve had more to complain about than to celebrate in the last year. Yet things seem to be looking up for us.

It may come as a shock to the uninformed but Nigeria isn’t actually a poor country. It just has a surprising amount of poor people. Research shows that although it ranks as the 3^rd biggest African economy, Nigeria still falls short as the 160^th of 177 countries in the Human Development Index. In simple terms we are rich on paper but the money never seems to make it to the man on the street. You hear that there is money somewhere, but somehow you never actually see it. Do we blame this on corruption, illiteracy, the government? The average Nigerian will tell you that things only seem to get worse as time goes by, though our president boldly claimed otherwise on an interview with CNN’s Christiane Amanpour. 

Despite all the bad news that seems to be surrounding Nigeria at the moment, there is still a measure of positivity in the air. Investing in real estate and construction in Nigeria right now seems to be quite common. All around the capital state of Abuja, there are new constructions taking place on both a private and public level. People are taking advantage of the developments and investing where they can.

That’s great for people who have the money to invest in big, high risk industries such as real estate. But what does all this mean for the average Nigerian? One simple solution is all there is; be your own boss. It’s something Nigerian’s do very well. We start businesses from scratch to feed the family and pay the bills. Now more than ever before it seems the average Nigerian is taking their elementary knowledge of mathematics and their people skills to the streets and making something out of nothing. Recalling my childhood, street hawkers and small shops that sold everything from African print to a good meal were part of the landmark. They seem even more vital now that the country is doing less and less for its people. These jobs may not be the most glamorous in the world but they offer a solution for many people who need the money to feed themselves, pay bills and put themselves or members of their family through school. Some of these people are graduates who have been unable to find an office job and have decided to make something else out of their lives rather than staying jobless. I don’t see them as less privileged but as resourceful. After all, they’re only doing what anyone else would do in their shoes by utilising the talents they have to get the money they need. So their talents aren’t the usual suspects; some sing, some dance, others make gates and weave baskets. Everybody is doing what they can to get where they must. We must realise that although we’ve been blessed with an education abroad that is supposed to give us an advantage over our peers, there are many out there who aren’t as lucky. Would we be quite as creative were the shoe on the other foot?

Montage...Music

So this is something I wrote about music...more or less. I've been told my taste in music often differs to that of the people around me. So someone in my group wrote a similar piece on mainstream music while I countered with the weird and the wonderful in my repertoire. Enjoy!!

PS
The title of each song has been hyperlinked so you can enjoy the music too.

Music: The Weird and the Wonderful
In an attempt to broaden your horizon...

Mick Flannery: Safety Rope.

Have you ever heard of Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan or Mumford & Sons? Well you might want to start with them first. They were the gateway drugs that eased me into the serenity of this particular song and the rest of Mick Flannery’s story. I spent more time listening to this track than any of the others on his White Lies album. Part of the Irish folk music movement that seems to be quietening down now, raw emotion has never danced so well with music. 

Koop: Koop Island Blues.

I didn’t know what Electro Jazz was until I found Koop but boy am I glad I found them! A seamless mix of  Gatsbyesque jazz sounds with a modern electronic twist that’ll transport you to parts of your mind you forgot existed. Innovative and surprisingly fresh, their style brings all the nostalgia and poignancy of the glamorous 1920’s to the dance floor. The European duo featured the charming vocals of Ane Brun on this single, someone else to look out for.

The Like: He’s not a Boy.

If you ever saw the movie The Boat that Rocked and liked it then all girl band The Like will be right up your street. This upbeat number that samples sounds from the late 60’s musical revolution will have you on your feet, mimicking moves that you’re far too young to know. If nothing else it will remind you to live a little because your parents did too!

The Verve: The Drugs Don’t Work.

I’m not ashamed to admit that this song from the English alternative rock band moved me to tears the first time I heard it; that’s the power of good music for you. From the lyrics to the wonderful musical arrangement every second of this song pulls at your heart strings. You don’t need Google to tell you that there is a story in this one.

Sleeping at Last: Turning Page.

The bad news is that this song was on one of the Twilight movie soundtracks. The good news is that all 4 minutes and 14 seconds of this song are better than the entire franchise. The ethereal vocals will soothe you and the lyrics will uplift you. Do not for one second underestimate the quiet power of this song

Montage...Express Yourself

Art forms like graffiti and tattoo have always intrigued me. Don't get me wrong I do not encourage vandalism nor do I agree with permanently scaring your body. The art form itself is what piques my interest. Furthermore my creative writing blog should be enough evidence that I am very much a fan of self expression in all it's forms. This is one of the greatest purposes of art. 

Also I want to say a big thank you to Rashad Iqbal, a fellow student who graciously let me pry into his life for the purposes of this article and whose great insight made my article relevant.

So without further ado, my third montage piece...

Express yourself

When the staff of my high school got tired of watching students doodle on tables, walls and bathroom stalls they started throwing out hints about a graffiti wall. The concept meant that everyone could scribble their heart away on a wall built solely for that purpose if we stopped marking our territory on the body of the school.

There was hardly a part of Manchester that was truly devoid of graffiti and although it wasn’t always the most attractive, the brashness and the hurried feel that came with it was always attractive to me. After a while, seeing large spray painted letters and bold colours became the norm.

Dubai was a rude awakening for me. It felt like I had spent my life dreaming in colour and woke up to black-and-white. That was when I first started to recognise graffiti as an art form. I was sure that there was no graffiti here. But that isn’t strictly true. It might not be the invading kind you find in most of the western world, but it’s there if you look hard enough. It might not be all over the walls in between clean-cut buildings or on the busy streets, but the art is recognised by some here.

One of my first graffiti experiences in Dubai came from Rashad Iqbal, a 2^nd year student here in our very own Middlesex. As soon as I saw his work I asked him to do some things for me one of which he handed to me and has been with me ever since.

Speaking of the challenges of being a graffiti artist in Dubai he says that “there isn’t much support and at the same time all the paint supplies are really expensive here which makes it really hard to practice.” He also goes on to explain that not being able to see other people’s work around you on a daily basis like you would in other parts of the world means that he often lacks motivation and inspiration.

So how do you overcome these challenges? Well according to Rashad you need to develop your own interest and find an online community; his would be deviantart.com. He finds that although there are graffiti artists here in Dubai, they don’t have the strongest community presence. “When it comes to a community the strongest I have experienced was at deviantART.”

What you might find even more surprising is the fact that Rashad has actually displayed his work on a wall in Dubai. In fact he and about 350 other people were part of the charity event at the Graffiti Tunnel in Dubai Festival City organised by GYEM in 2010. He says that “they provided legal areas to do graffiti.”

As much as we laughed at our teachers in high school for making a big deal out of nothing, there was a tiny part of me that felt like a vandal when I took my marker pen out to hurriedly scribble “MiiMii was here” on my science desk. Maybe that was part of the thrill but more than anything was the recognition that graffiti could also be an art form. 

Montage...How Safe Are You?

Another Montage article for you guys. A couple of things before you start reading. The main character, if you will, is a really integral part of this article for me and I couldn't have written it without her help. Sharon, thank you very much for opening up to me about your experience. I only wish I could have done your story more justice. 

You can find her blog here: http://howtomakeitindubai.blogspot.ae/ and the article referred to below here: http://howtomakeitindubai.blogspot.ae/2013/01/how-to-be-wuss.html

Also a couple of you might see your names pop up in here...thanks for your contribution it meant a lot and provided great balance to my rather haphazard attempt.

Enjoy ;)

How safe are you?

How often do you hear a police or ambulance siren in Dubai? That probably depends on what part of Dubai you live in. But when last did you get up to look out your window when your neighbour’s car alarm went off? Did you ignore the noise because you don’t care or is it in fact because you feel like Dubai is a safer place than most? If you often leave the cocoon that Dubai creates for us or if you’ve lived anywhere else before, you’ve probably realised how safe we are here by now.

The people I spoke to around Knowledge Village listed qualities such as a stable government with a cautious foreign policy, good economy, lower crime rates and strict laws. Tola, a UOWD student said “the tourism drive of the Dubai government is key in ensuring security. Why? People don’t go to unstable or chaotic places and as Dubai’s economy in the 21^st century revolves around tourism the need for security cannot be overemphasised.” An article in Huffington Post seems to agree with this as Dubai was ranked the 7^th safest city in the world by TripAdvisor.  It was liked by 11 people and disliked by 10.

One person who might have disagreed with this ranking is Sharon, and Indo-Canadian piano teacher in Dubai who had a worrisome experience here recently. On a blog entry on her personal blog howtomakeitindubai.blogspot.ae on the 25^th of January this year she gave a detailed account of her experience. The entry titled “How to be a wuss” describes what at the very best can be called solicitation or sexual harassment and at worst attempted rape.  Thankfully she had a lucky escape but did not report the incident. Why?

One reason stated by Jennifer and Paulette, two 2^nd year students from Middlesex University, is that they feel like locals often have the upper hand. “If I’m reporting a local to the authorities they would probably back them over me as they value and protect their people so much” says Jennifer. She goes on to explain that she has never actually tried it and this is just a matter of perception which makes her feel rather vulnerable especially as a student in Dubai.

This imbalanced perception of safety created by Dubai varies with each person I speak to. One thing that keeps ringing in my head however: with these apparently obscured views on safety and security, what happens if we leave the safety of Dubai?

Montage...They told me it would be 9 to 5!

During my last school year part of the curriculum for one of modules was to produce a magazine. We called our variety magazine Montage and I was voted editor. I figured a lot of people on here wont get to read the magazine. So over the next few weeks/days/whatever, I'll publish the articles that I wrote in the magazine. I hope you enjoy it and as always your feedback would be great.

They told me it would be 9 to 5!

If you’ve made it this far my assumption is that after the all too exciting university phase you plan to work. Some of you already have to divide your attention between a full time education and a part time internship or even a full time job. You guys more than the rest will understand what I’m about to explain.

Over the holidays, I spent some time with family and I remember asking someone when their next holiday would be: “about the same time next year.” He said it with such frankness that more than the fact that he only had a week off each year I was worried that he had become immune to it.

Remember Dolly Parton’s 9-5? No I’m not that old. My mother had a taste for country music. It’s one of the few Dolly Parton songs that stuck with me the whole time.  A part of me always looked forward to when I could work my 9 to 5 job then go home afterwards to have dinner and relax with my pet parrot or goldfish. I always told myself quite proudly that my work would not invade the rest of my life; I’ll never take my work home. Needless to say, that was before I realised the real meaning of being a journalist or any type of writer for that matter. The first rude awakening came last summer.

I got an internship for the summer and in my interview I was told by my boss that I’d have to work from 9 to 6. Not too bad, especially considering that they were quite lenient with us about our lateness.  It didn’t quite hit home then but I found myself being constantly tired. It was a short internship so before long I had forgotten the experience of having no time for myself.

Then in September I started another job. This one involved me working with someone in a different continent and time zone. This meant that sometimes communication was irregular. I was back to working hours that varied quite drastically from the 9 to 5 I had envisioned. To add to that I started another internship at the start of the year and my body was beginning to give up on me.

It creeps up on you. Suddenly you realise that your work files have become furniture, you’re having takeaway dinners in front of your TV and you had so little time to feed your goldfish it died. Your life revolves around work and sleep and very little else.

The 21^st century work culture is much different than the picture Dolly painted for us isn’t it? There is almost no escape thanks to the internet, smart phones and all the other clever ways your boss can find you if don’t pick up their calls. Gone are the days where your location, salary and type of job determined how much time you spent at the office. A PR consultant talking to our class about the possibility of an internship with her company was quick to warn us about trying to work while school was in session: “you start at 8:45am and you don’t finish till about 6:50pm.” Even scarier is the fact that office walls no longer mark the boundaries of where work stops and life begins. As long as you have a phone and a laptop you are almost always working,

So what do we do? Mummy and Daddy won’t pay the bills forever so we can’t quit before we even start. Unless you’re going to be working for yourself or for someone who offers you flexible hours, you can’t dictate when you want to work. I have one suggestion because it’s the only thing that has ever worked for me:

“Chose a job you love, and you’ll never have to work a day in your life.”-Confucius

Are you willing to learn?

I didn't always go to the best schools. Sometimes I blessed enough to be in a really good school but not always. I moved around a fair bit and sometimes showing up in the middle of the academic year meant taking what you could get. Now don't get me wrong my schools weren't awful. I had fun and despite what I might say most days, I wouldn't take any of those years back.

However I was often in the school with people who were more interested in playground brawls than the library. Somehow I was always assigned to the class with the one kid who would rather ruin it for everyone than sit still and shut up for an hour. But those experiences taught me one thing and equipped me with some useful personal skills.

The truth is for anyone out there who has the opportunity to learn and is willing to make use of that opportunity, you can do it. I learnt to revise for exams or read past time literature surrounded by people who where unwilling or perhaps unable to shut up. I learnt to multi task, read or study while simultaneously listening which believe it or not can be quite handy. I learnt the meaning of the word pedantic which one of my many high school English teachers used to describe a boy in our class that would stop him every 5 minutes to correct some apparent mistake or the other, rectify some problem, make some comment or go on some incoherent tangent. Whilst all of that was going on and against what seemed like some insurmountable odds at the time, I graduated from that high school with and A in English. I realised that I might not be the best at practical, but I am pretty handy with theory, a fact proven by my C in Physical Education and B in Science. I don't mean to sound arrogant by the way. I'm just proving the simple point that if you are really willing to learn, especially if you have the opportunity to, the only thing stopping you is yourself.

Now think of all the people who do not have this opportunity. Think of the people in the past and present who were left to their own devices and still managed to do what you with all your opportunities disregard today.

Think hard.

What's new Scooby Doo??

So I haven't been here in a while...

It's nice to have something to say at least. Let me catch you up.

Well my deadlines came crashing down on me near the end of last month and usually it would be my fault with the aid of procrastination. But I'm proud/relieved to inform you that this time it wasn't!! It was actually my teacher's fault. But I shan't dwell. All I can say is pray for me because the looming results day terrifies me somewhat.

I practically drifted from my last deadline to a short term job courtesy of a runaway friend. But now that even that is over I've had some time to recoup and rest.

Now I'm sort of half mindedly looking for a new reason for people to pay me this summer and also continuing the never ending journey of self-discovery. If you DIDN'T know I was on this journey I'm somewhat surprised by you...aren't we all on this journey?? Well now you know. I am constantly trying to figure out who I am. And that is mostly because I am a different person every time I check.

I digress...

Although this summer isn't as clear cut or planned out as the last, I actually feel more confident and comforted in some ways. It probably has something to do with all the plans for the future I've been making.

The important thing is that today I am happy and I hope you're happy too. There is a lot going on in the world that should make us all depressed but happiness is a choice. And the more you realise that your happiness is your responsibility and no doesn't depend on the existence of anyone else then the more happy you become. More importantly the more you realise that there is no comparison between God's love and the love humans claim to have the happier you will feel.

God  Bless

PS

What's new with you??

Happy Good Friday All

My Day
It's the day of our Lord's crucifixion, so my friends and I got up extra early for service today. We fought our flu and managed to make it in to church on time. The sermon was powerful and there was supposed to be a showing of The Passion of the Christ this evening. However I was so exhausted that my short nap turned into a long one and I ended up missing it :( Not to worry, I watched it at home.

Bar some rather unnecessary embellishments, not a bad movie at all. It really captured the brutality of Roman torture and crucifixion. Not for the light hearted I tell you.  It got me thinking though...

The Romans
They were brutal!! Floggings that peeled flesh off bones, smashing of knees, dislocating of shoulders, the whole 9 yards. The men responsible for all of that were either seriously touched in the head to start with or became like that after years on the job. It just doesn't seem natural.

Pontius Pilate, Peter & Judas.
Sounds like the name for a pretty nifty Indie-Rock band.
After a short conversation with one of my friends tonight I came to the following conclusions.

• Judas' betrayal, Peter's denials and Pilate's decision to exempt himself were all necessary in Christianity's journey. Without them in some ways there would be no cross, although God's word is still Ye and Amen.
• Unlike Peter, it seems Judas and Pilate made the mistake of (to the best of knowledge) not giving themselves a chance at redemption. Yes they sinned but if they had asked for forgiveness like Peter and devoted their lives to the mission of Christianity it would have been a slightly different story.
• Pilate was politically between a rock and a hard place so in some ways you can understand his decision. He gave the crowd a choice between terrorist/mass murderer Barabbas and Jesus and they still condemned Christ. However as Christians this doesn't mean we get to fold our hands and watch morality destroyed. In fact as people we really ought to know how and when to stand up for what we believe in. 
• Judas learnt nothing from his time with Christ. Zilch. Zero. Nada. He should know better than to think that there is no redemption for him after sin. 
• We shouldn't give our sins and past mistakes power over us. Yes we have sinned and it is wrong but in order to move forward we need to cast it off and look to God for mercy, salvation, insight and strength to resist future temptation. 

Barabbas and the thief on the cross.

They were the first examples of salvation through the cross. Barabbas who was awaiting death had Jesus take his place quite literally on the cross. As for the thief to the best of our knowledge he sits with our Lord Jesus in heaven as he was brave enough to recognise the Messiah even on the cross. Not many of us would do that in a similar situation. In fact too many of us fail to do that even today.  

I don't know if there is a moral to all of this. I just felt like sharing my thoughts with you. For those who are already Christians I hope you're having a wonderful Good Friday recognising the sacrifice made on our behalf. For those yet to recognise it, I hope you do soon. I'm not perfect but in Christ I can seek perfection with the hope that through Him it can be achieved.

Stay Blessed. 

Nigeria is why I hate politics and politicians.

I weep for my country. I'm sad because most of us are too ignorant to know what we have and those that do know are too scared, unable or unwilling to do anything with their knowledge. Knowledge is power my foot. In Nigeria all too often knowledge is prohibitive. I'm sad because we are too content with the way everything is.

Yes people are dying, but it's not my family so who cares??
Yes people are laundering money but I have food to eat and it's not like I can do anything about it can I??
Yes my neighbour is getting robbed but if I try to help it'll all end up on my head and I have enough problems of my own thank you very much!!
It's happening but it's not my problem; let someone else take care of it.

If we constantly wait for someone else to take care of it then who ACTUALLY takes care of anything? We live our problems to someone else and they pile up like dirty plates in a kitchen sink. Charity begins at home; wash your plates.

Nigeria needs to wake up; at home and abroad we need to wake up. Your country is falling to ruins and you're sleep-walking in No Man's Land. What needs to happen for you to open your eyes?? Our president is pardoning thieves and keeping them in political offices. Government officials are saying no to helping the country's youth but yes to buying overpriced sports cars to celebrity couples. Planes are falling out of the sky like birds whose wings have been clipped and no one is being held accountable. The old voices are going one by one, clearing the way for young activism but there seems to be none to take its place.

While all of this is happening in the motherland what are you doing??

What am I doing??!! Nothing!! We're all doing nothing. SOMEONE has to have a better plan than "let's sit and see how this all pans out". I know I'm not the only one with a passion for the future of Nigeria. I can't be the only one thinking these things. I'm most definitely not the only one doing nothing.

I despair at the fate of our country and the selfishness of its youth. I worry that the only answer anyone seems to have is for us to become part of the system. We are all creative and resourceful people; let's think outside the box a little bit.

Source:
http://free-extras.com/images/homer_and_a_doughnut-1088.htm

The politicians and government officials?? They are sucking us dry. One day you'll wake up and the headlines will say something like "Nigeria has been dissolved". Like a bankrupt business, they'll melt us down and merge us with surrounding countries because greed made our bellies fat but our knees weak. 

Deadline @ Midnight!!

First of all I want to star,t like I sometimes do, by thanking God for loving me so much despite of the sinner that I am.

Now a quick update:

1. I found a church. I love it. If I could live in it I would!! It is that good. I am happy
2. I got feedback on some of my formatives (or drafts for the normal people in the world) and it was really good news!! So fingers crossed I end this year in a high!!
3. On a more panicky note, I have another draft due by midnight so I need to say a quick ciao and head on because that essay on non-Western journalism in sub-Saharan Africa is not going to write itself!!

See you all soon!!!!

The Holiday Entries: Christmas Day-

It's funny to me sometimes how adversely I react to going back to a place that was home for my first 13 years. It's even funnier still how little of the place itself I remember. I've got the whole "Nigerian in Diaspora" thing down to a T it seems. The sad part is that I don't particularly feel at home outside of Nigeria either. I think I fit perfectly into the category of what a friend of mine calls Confused Global Citizens; I manage to be simultaneously from everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Merry Christmas everyone!! Peace to all and joy on earth and all that gollywash. So whilst everyone is digging into overly dry turkey and carolling I can’t even leave my house. I still have no bag. I spent the day (so far) cooking for dogs I hate and who hate me And I came to the conclusion that without proper editing, i.e. deleting the majority of this, it will never see the light of day. 

I received some bad news too about a dear family friend back in Manchester and Lord knows that alone has ruined my day. I received a call that picked me up though, so I'm thanking God for little blessings as always.

Also I told Mother I wanted to go see my childhood house, maybe take some of my father’s books with me. We have no driver at the moment and letting her drive all the way there from here is like actively seeking death so I’m hopeful but not optimistic. 

The Holiday Entries: Christmas Eve-False Hope

Do you know what I titled my journal of all the goings on of my holiday?? "The Journey to Gosh-I-Wish-I-Never-Came." I have to say at this point though, that it wasn't that bad in all honesty. I learnt a lot about myself and my family. I saw Nigeria through fresh eyes like I seem to do every time I come back. I got a lot of helpful material for my course. I got to hang out with my nieces who are the most mischievous little monkeys ever. And some days (shock-horror!!) I wake up and I miss it a little. 

PS

The pictures are here not only because I spent a lot of my time in the kitchen but also because I have always found the mixture of urban and rural in Nigerian kitchens very amusing.

Mother's Kitchen.

I told my mother I don’t plan to stay in Nigeria today. Like all things in my family, it came indirectly.

“Even if you don’t plan to live in Nigeria you should keep your culture.” She dropped it into the middle of her rant like she had seen it on my face when I arrived.

“I don’t plan to live in Nigeria,” I had replied. Then I repeated it a few more times for good measure, so she would totally understand what the future would hold.

L-R. A broom for sweeping;
a small mortar and pestle for herbs, seeds etc;
a big mortar and pestle for pounding yams

Why were we arguing?? Onions and pounded yam. I didn’t put enough onions in the Akara (bean cake?) mixture which in her mind meant I didn’t know how to cook and I had no interest in cooking any Nigerian food, which obviously meant I didn’t want to get married because even a white man would be interested in my culture. 

And of course I needed to learn how to pound yams not because I would ever use that skill but because I need to learn my tradition. Needless to say I was fuming at the fact that she insinuated, more than once and not in the least subtly, that I did not know my way around the kitchen. I am less upset about the whole ordeal right now but urgh did it irk me in the moment!!

A stove and a jar of kerosene:
because having a gas and electric cooker
doesn't mean you cant start a fire once in a while.

Right now I don’t wanna stay in this country but I don’t know the future and I keep an open mind. All my plans, as vague as they often are, point me far away from this country. But God’s will be done. I might end up back here for one reason or the other, though right now I sincerely hope not.

The store where she keeps most of her food

The Holiday Entries: Small Blessings

This is an extract from Day 2. I feel the need to point out that these were all written in the heat of the moment.

I think I have my appetite back on the upside. Something about travelling takes the whole idea of food off of my mind for a while.

I really want my stuff back and I am getting even more homesick; I swear I cannot wait to be back in Dubai. I keep calling the airport almost frantically and there has been no answer. My mum keeps telling me all these things; ‘in case of next time’ she says…I am too angry to contemplate the possibility of a next time. I keep chanting ‘home is where the bags are’ in my head. Currently the bags are in upheaval which means home is in upheaval which means I am in upheaval.

I had an argument of sorts with God today and I told him that if I didn’t get my stuff back I would never come back. I feel like he laughed and said ‘you were never gonna come back anyway’.

Oh I took some pictures today. Not anything to write anywhere about. 

The Holiday Entries: Home??

I've thrown out hints about writing some stuff about my time in Nigeria but as you can see it took me a little longer than it should have. The truth I was hesitant to upload anything about it because frankly I disliked almost all of the time I spent there. 

I kept something akin to a journal for the duration of my two weeks though most of its contents are self-censored and may never make it into public viewing. So this is how I plan to work it. I'll put snippets of my journal entries on here with some of the pictures I took and hope and pray that is enough to satiate your appetites (JIA!!).

Let's start with Day 1:

I hate travelling. I think I’ve said that over a handful of times since I got to the airport and I think my friend who has the unfortunate task of travelling with me is sick of it now. But I have my reasons. Journeys never go the way they should and destinations almost always prove deceptive or painfully correct. First they had a problem with my tickets which took them all too long to sort out and led to me buying overly expensive perfumes in duty free. Then they delayed my transit flight by an hour. Then upon my arrival and after almost an hour of pointless waiting, it was disclosed to me that my bags had in fact been misplaced/left behind/or its location were otherwise unknown.

Of course my mother blamed ME for the fact that the AIRLINE misplaced a BUNCH OF PEOPLE’S bags...I can see how all that is my fault.

Nevertheless I returned “home” to mull over the fact that I had lost not only my bag but my friend’s bag that I had checked in for him. GREAT START. 

Eventually I found myself thinking that this was a sign that I should never have come. I should never have returned to the motherland after all. I truly didn’t want to come. I am in that place in my life where I am spreading roots in some place other than what most others would call my home. I am as yet undecided as to whether that is a positive or negative change; maybe it’s a bit of both. All I know is as much as I love my country and my people, my family and the few friends I still have there, I don’t think I can live in this country.

IT IRKS ME WHEN....

So this post is about two things in particular that people do which just annoys the crazy out of me. I picked these two things because they seem to be a common theme around these parts; too many people here are guilty of them.

ANNOYING OCCURRENCE NUMBER 1.
People who live their lives repeating past mistakes like they're in some kind of time loop.

Why in the name of all that is sane and not in a straight jacket would you look at yourself and repeat the same mistakes over and over and over and...just stop. Please. Anywhere else in the world psychologists would have diagnosed you with some syndrome or disorder, because there is nothing normal in repeating yourself. What kind of selective memory loss deceives you into believing that it is perfectly OKIES to put your self in this situation? And what really trips me about these people is that later on they come to you like,

 "OH MY GOSH!! I can't believe I did that!! That was so stupid of me!!"

And they leave you with this impression that they finally understand what you spent the better part of a century explaining to them like it's theoretical physics or something. But just give them a few more days and they'll be back to their old ways. And you sit and watch their display of madness in total confusion, because frankly this can not be the definition of life.

Worse still are the ones who come seeking your advice, and then get angry and rude when you tell them the truth!! *sidenote* If you don't want MY advice then explain to me how you arrived at MY door. I don't dish it out willy-nilly but if you ask for the truth please don't expect anything but the truth.

Which leads me to point Numero 2...

ANNOYING OCCURRENCE NUMBER 2.
People who say one thing then turn around and do something entirely different.

I don't want to think of it as lies, go ahead and call me naive. I'd rather think of it as stupidity because I feel like your foolishness has a cure and there is still hope. But if you are actively telling lies when there is no need for it I have nothing to say to you.

I fail to understand why you would come to me to discuss something that I honestly have no interest in and then lie to me!! I didn't ask you. You chose to tell me yourself. So...why lie?? Because you know that what you're doing makes no sense, that's why.

If at the end of this post you're wondering what it is I really want, it is for people to stop letting other people's opinions of them (mine included) rule their lives. I feel like the reason why people act foolish a lot of the time is because they are under the impression that this is what the world expects from them. Screw the world and its many invalid opinions; what do you want?? I want people to know who they are, what they want and to stand by that belief until they have reason to do otherwise.

Of course, as always, I'm asking too much.

PS
Lianne La Havas is my new mini-music obsession. Find her on YouTube and kindly stalk her music. Gracias. 

What's the French for complete and utter exhaustion??

Don't get me wrong. I had no illusions. I wasn't suddenly expecting a life of relaxation and glamour...I'm too old to be that naive.

However, I feel it's worth noting that it's only the first day of my second semester in my second year and I am already way passed my weekly limit of stressed out. I just wrote as much of an essay as my seemingly dehydrated brain can muster and I think I shall turn in for the night or I'll never make that class tomorrow morning, and it is imperative that I do.

Oh and my crazy brain can't think up a hundred more words about magazine exceptionalism but can remember all the other million and one things I haven't managed to do?? Oh shucks that's helpful!!

PS
Wondering about the title?? Everything seems to sound exceedingly more glamorous in French, don't you think??

I'M GETTING PUBLISHED!!

I Just want to take a quick minute to say thank you sweet Jesus for making my life a series of undeserved miracles and a dream come true. No amount of gratefulness and thanksgiving can make up for all that you have done and continue to do for me. I love you.

Next L&G's I'd like to let you know that I am getting published. Yup that's right. My name is going to be on a by-line by the end of this month and words can't express how overcome with joy I truly am.

Of course I knew about this before hand but now that it's actually happening it's all the more exciting. It's for a new magazine that will debut this year. It's called Duvera Magazine. Check them out and help me spread the word will you??

Also to top all that off I am currently interning with Mother, Baby and Child Magazine here in Dubai. So in the rather inappropriate words (in this context) of Asa:

Life is beautiful, don't you think so too.

P.S.
Artists I am currently loving!! Check out the Malaysian artist Yunalis Zarai (Yuna). I love her song Decorate. It gives me chills. Also take a look at Michael Kiwanuka, a Ugandan-British artist. My favourite song from his album Home Again is Bones.  

Quick I Must Let You Know!!

My life is about to get very busy and I might end up being MIA for a few...sooooo

• I got an internship at Mother, Baby and Child which is a parenting magazine here in Dubai. I start on Monday by God's grace. I'm supposed to help out with their first annual awards show that's coming up this May. 
• School starts really soon and I have quite a few deadlines I need to meet. Some of them aren't even for school work. Regardless I'm going to be working pretty hard over the next few days/weeks.
• In other news I've (rather randomly) decided to treat the new things I learn about my family less like dirty little secrets and more like historical facts of which I was previously unaware. I think it's less messy/emotionally scaring that way. I'm optimistic.
• I think that's because I find myself slowly but oh so surely returning to the role of the friend that always gives advice. A part of me has missed that a lot and another part worries that I may not be up to the task
• I'm also thinking about going somewhere in the summer though a part of me doubts that will work out, and maybe also Christmas-this I'm more positive about. Anyways wish me luck.
• Finally I'm pretty sure my wisdom tooth is growing in my cheek and I'm almost certain that is not the best place for it. But I'm told the dental here costs my weight in gold. What to do!!
• Finally I think I actually added a bit of weight since I got back from Nigeria!!! Score!!!!