Nigeria Immigration Service (The System)

Nigeria is a country that seems to survive purely on the "Who you knows" and "What you haves" and "Who you ares'" rather that on the system. And to be honest, before this, I had been selfishly okay with that, but on this particular day that I had to hustle and queue, watching people who had come after me waltz in, get their documents checked and then foxtrot back to their cars, this system didn’t work for me. I was angry!

Before you go any further, you should know that this is not an aimless venom being spewed on the government, of that I can assure you (See Green, White, Green for that ) and this is not even an article that aims at the Nigerian populace (See Dear Readers for that ). This is simply coming as a result of my 5-hour sojourn at the Nigeria Immigration Service(NIS) center today with my 9-month old brother on a quest to get his first Nigerian Passport.

I am not even angry for myself. I am angered for my 9-month old brother who has not yet developed a resounding voice with which he can speak of the disdain he feels towards the government of this so-called developing nation. What exactly are we developing if we have adamantly resisted any atom of positive growth in the areas that count?

Don't get me wrong, I do not even blame the immigration officers who are understaffed and are expected to work in these poor environments and conditions of no fan, no ventilation, no clean or even attractive uniforms. I see people walking round me in their dirty brown-colored immigration uniforms, proudly carrying around the stale stench of sweat with the marks visible around their armpits, some even have it on their buttocks, and I feel sorry for them.
Therefore I do not fully blame them, for they are as angry as I am.

I do not even fully blame the people who are using their own connects to get ahead and cut corners. It is the way they are used to. This has become the Nigerian system. I blame the system. But more than that, I blame myself for still believing and holding out a candle of hope for a country that has remained rigid, I blame only my optimistic and expectant mind that still sees a change in the future of Nigeria.

We had arrived at their office because the man who was to help us had said to come by 8 o'clock in the morning, but my mother being the person that she is, we got there by 9:30am. Fair enough.
My unknowing mother had packed only one bottle for the baby because according to her, she thought it was going to be a "breeze in, and breeze out" scenario.
Our car was even the first to get there, and we were in high spirits, ready to just collect his passport and go.

Alas! The system had other plans for us.

I must have stood in front of that Acquisition room for hours, since it did not even occur to our able government workers to provide sitting arrangements in the waiting area.
I was waiting for my name to be called as I silently observed the mannerism of the workers of this highly placed government system.
I was trying to explain to that grumpy young man that even in the developed and first world countries that we try so much to emulate, preference is given to the elderly, the pregnant, and to children/babies.
I was frantically trying to explain to him that we didn’t even bring a change of diapers, and my brother had already taken the only bottle we brought to feed him with around 11am, and that he was missing his 10 to 12 am nap and that is why he had been screaming the building down.
I was begging this man to understand that my baby brother who is on the heavy side had to be carried rotationally by my mother and I, but even at that, it was tiring.
I wanted him to get that my 9-month old brother was coughing and hiccupping at the same time, running a temperature even.
My guy didn’t budge.

The system.

Needless to say I was answered around 2pm, and as they were thumb-printing my brother, one of the officers who had been in a private air-conditioned office while we had stood in the bronzing sun opened his foul breathed mouth to ask me, "Is this the boy that you went to put inside AC car? Why I go answer him now?".
Only an alcoholic who has been sober for like a maximum of 2 days, and is facing the strongest smelling liquor can understand the amount of restraint it took me to stop myself from giving that man a smart-ass comeback, because the truth of the matter is that I still needed him to complete all due processes.

I must have stood in front of that Acquisition room for hours, staring blindly at the pieces of white A4 paper pasted on the grey chipping cheapened wooden door. One of the red Servicom posters even stared back at me, mocking me, with the sign saying "You have the right to be served right".

I wanted to laugh at myself for the predicament I was facing, on a day that I could have used to achieve much else, but I was too hungry, tired, irritated, and frustrated to even try. So when my name was finally called, I wasn’t even as much relieved as I was fed-up, I just wanted to carry my agitated baby brother and go home so that I could take a long well-deserving nap myself.

There I was, thinking I was immune to the system, because of the connects I thought we had, the connects that somehow decided to fail; thinking I was above the system because of the breakable rules that surround the system, but all in all, today, the 18th of February, 2011, all I can say is that the system fucked me,simply because of my lack of connects, the system screwed me!

Labels.

This is actually an old article that i just found so I thought to put it up before I'd lose it again, plus someone recently made me re-think my view on labels, so I'd probably write a follow up soon...look out for that, but for now this is simply an article I wrote about two years back ithink...and I did not want to touch it up, so allow me even though it might seem a bit rough! :)

Labels.....

http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=57602281556


I once heard that labeling spoils the uniqueness of a product, and now I agree.
 
Why do we feel the need to brand people-even ourselves? We often fail to see that putting a name on a product turns the product into that name- thin rice isn’t thin rice anymore, its Uncle Ben’s rice; cereal isn’t cereal anymore, its corn flakes. Similarly, we label and brand ourselves so much that we lose the vitality and beauty that warranted such a label.

I want to talk about people, because in the end that’s what we all are, people. Men, women, black , white, stupid, smart, husband, best friend, bitch, lesbian- in the end all these labels replace who we really are, so much so that we start to forget who we were before we became who we are. The love dies in a marriage because the husband and wife forget the friendship and love that brought them together and start to act in completely different patterns just to fulfill the expectations of their label. He's a bossy husband, she’s an argumentative wife, and soon enough they are completely different people.

Basically, I’m just trying to understand why a boy you’ve liked for so long, and wanted for so long suddenly becomes less interesting once he asks you to wear the brand of his girlfriend. He fails to see that without asking you, you both have everything, friendship, love, companionship, and trust. But once he labels you, jealousy sets in, mistrust over little issues and squabbles that could have been avoided.

It’s all so simple but people don’t see. Why can’t we all just be who we are- humans? Let go of labels that put people in tight situations and categorize us. We are not what people say we are-we are who we choose to be. You don’t have to be dependent on a man just because you are a woman, you don’t have to be less of a friend because you have been called a girlfriend, and you don’t have to be more dominating because you are now a husband. It’s all very simple but people don’t see- you are not who they label you to be. Indie Arie sang a song saying “I am not my hair, I am not this skin, I am not your expectation…” similarly, we are not who we are branded to be. Boys, girls, cheerleaders, jocks, husband, clerks, boyfriends, musicians… In the end, when it comes down to the very end, we are all just people.

We are all human beings.

How To Know You Like Him.....

Having thought for about week on how to go about this without being too mushy, love-struck/infatuated, I simply decided to put together some of the things that made me know that I like him, and apparently I really do otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this! And from henceforth I shall name him "My stop nao boy", and he's waaaaay cooler than "My 5-naira boy"……..(Yes, you are *tongue out*, whatever!)

How To Know When You Like Him….

You know you like him when you talk about him incessantly to your friends, always bringing something he said, something he did into the conversations that you have with other people, until they know almost as much about him as you do;

You know you have begun to like him when you see him from a distance and your heart skips a beat, a smile shapes your lips, or even the faintest sweat breaks out on your forehead, because the anticipation of talking to him builds momentum each day;

You know you can no longer deny liking him when sappy love songs like J-holiday's suffocate begins to remind you of him, and old songs like Bow Wow's Like you, with Ciara starts to come back to your head on the randomest day;

You know that you like him when you are trying to make a plan with your friends and you need his opinion to move forward, and you need his own plans so you can work around them, and you don’t even want to be somewhere he wouldn’t approve of;

You know you like him when you have an exam by a lecturer that is literally a brain drainer, a lecturer who seems to specialize in making examinations a living hell, but you are up really late, still talking to him on the phone, BBM, or even YIM;

You know you definitely like him when you start to download the music he likes, look for authors he favors, begin to use his phrases in your daily conversation unconsciously, and even have a prejudice against things he doesn’t like;

Your head should let you know you like him when you look out for him in crowded places, speak to him in hushed whispers, want to be with him always, #nothingsexual :)

You know you like him when you think about him at random times, because something equally as random, like a smell, walk, memory, daydream, laugh, and outfit has made him become alive in your head;

You know you like him when you have had a bad paper, or you think you are about to have a bad paper - panicking, and you are wishing he was there to hug you, hold you, and tell you he believes in you;

You know you like him when you believe Bruno Mars and his many many exaggerated love songs-you know catching a grenade is unlikely, jumping in front of a train would probably not happen, and dragging a piano over highs and lows and lengths and breadths of Lagos would not be possible,- but yet you understand the idea behind it;

You know you like him when he does the littlest things, but it invariably makes your whole day, and you have crammed him just like a difficult 400level Eco formula to the extent that in your head you know what he is about to say, how he'll say it, and with what expression;

You know you like him when nearly everything he says makes you want to write about him, blog about him…

Yes, this is a subliminal blog, but *in his voice* who sai? I have to express myself frequently otherwise I am going to go insane with all the non-verbalized emotions, I am not only human, but a chronic love-hunting human at that! #Shrug

I guess what I am trying to say is that once again I have fallen victim to being in the exact same position I always, always try to run away from. I am back where I was with all my unwanted shakara, and yet again, I am taking a leap of faith…..My only hope is that it would not be another "Ill-fated leap of fate" http://cremekidd.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-ill-fated-leap-of-faith.html

Because I really do like this one, but I cannot take anymore heartache, this time I want it all…..All or Nothing!

Where Did All The Slim Ties Go?

There I stood on aisle four (4) with my ushering tag around my neck on that Tuesday morning, a little nervous I must confess, since I was dwarfed in the middle of Daniel hall and John hall boys. Not just that sef, I was right there in front and hence had to keep trying to side-step the babe behind the camera so that I wouldn’t come up on the projector.

I was silently praying that nothing embarrassing would happen to me amidst all these 300, 400, 500level boys, who would most definitely laugh mercilessly at the faintest show of embarrassment.

So there I stood, conscious of my surrounding, conscious of myself, and therefore looking at everybody but not quite looking at them, but beyond them. I was trying so hard to make as minimal eye contact as possible when it dawned on me- Where Did All The Slim Ties Go?

The era of slim ties was gladly accepted by boys of all ages, class, and stance. It wasn’t welcomed, or bargained for it just sort of happened. It just suddenly happened on them, us. One minutes boys had fat ties, the next minute even CST/CHD/CBS college ties were being slim fitted to the thin-ness requirement of slim tie (I swear I'm not lying).

The era of slim ties was admirable though--because apart from looking fashionable boys still looked responsible #MyOpinion. And because, well, the ties weren't fat. Simple.
I liked spotting slim ties; leather ones, cotton ones, patterned ones, plain ones, colorful ones, dull ones, ties with pointy tips and even ties with a straight cut/no tip.

Slim ties were practically everywhere: In school -- On students, and even on the café guys, At home--On bankers and even the security guy at the bank. They were EVERYWHERE!
There were Cedarwood ties, T.M Lewin ties, Thomas Pink Ties, Tim Burton ties, H&M ties, George ties, and loads more that I obviously don’t know because a.) I am a girl, and b.) I even had to ask a friend for the labels I just stated.

Simple truth is slim ties became part of an era of fashion, they became THE era.

So you can imagine my surprise on that Tuesday morning chapel service when I looked up from the floor, and looked up from staring at the tip of my cute black flat shoes, to realize that I could only sight fat ties. Huge ties. Enormous ties.

I was seeing fat ties of different patterns, on row 1, on row 2 row 3, row 4, row 5, row 6, row 7, row 8, row 9, and row 10--All the rows that were under my wing for that Tuesday service.
I was seeing floral ties, dotted ties, plaid ties, Ankara ties print ties, abstract print ties, horizontal stripped ties, vertical stripped ties, and even Mickey mouse ties (I honestly am not lying).

Okay, the thing is I am just using ties as a basic example of the circular merry-go-round that fashion puts us on. We are constantly chasing after some sort of quota. Slim ties are in, then they are out. Fat ties are in then they are out, then in. Geek glasses are in, then out, then in. Big tummy belts are in then slim belts are in. Big bags are in, then slim bags are in.
*dramatic pause*
Boot-cuts are in, then skinnies are in, Pantyhose is in, then showing skin is in. the list is endless, knowing fully well that in the next couple of days, months, years, or decades, the trend WILL change, and yet again we will have to adjust our life to fit the "accepted fashion".

Do you want to know why? It's because we are enslaved to the ideas of fashion.

So do you want to know where all the slim ties went? They are in hiding, along with the mini skirts and the afro weaves, patiently waiting to spring back up when we least expect.

Inspired by Chiddy Bang’s Opposite Adults.

I Once was A kid

All I had was a dream

Reality snatched time it seems

Away with all the other kids

Eaten bit by bit to pieces

By hopes of tomorrow

Now I’m grown

And all I want to scream

To the walls of own inflicted asylum is

If I could do it again:

I’m

Never

Growing

Up.


Ade-Unuigbe

Musings On A Random Tuesday Night!

Musings on a Random Tuesday night!

So I just learnt, from a very reliable and trust-worthy source, that a boy could practically fake a whole relationship. Unbelievable wickedness. This has only further enhanced my cynicism towards relationships.

Okay, to be honest I have never been really cynical towards boys, relationships or love. To be brutally honest I am what you can practically call a “love slut”. What this means is that I love love, and everything that has to do with it. I love being loved, being in love, being a victim of love. Honestly if you see how many poems I have written about love, heartbreaks and what-not, then you would be on the same page with me.

I recently told a friend (name with-held) that I actually don’t mind heart-breaks. You see, I am so badly into the idea and concept of love that I don’t mind experiencing every bit of it, even the bits that people run blindly away from; the heart wrenching ones, the ones that seem to tear you up so much inside that you feel like you will surely be damaged forever, love that has been empowered to give you permanent ulcer attack.

Honestly!

Honestly, I am what you can call irrational when you talk about love. You see, I have never ever learnt how to love half-halfheartedly. My friend(name with-held again) has one boyfriend in CU, one in Babcock, One in the obodo, and one that even has a son. Another friend(no I won’t say her name) has one really hot boyfriend, one that is constantly on her P, and one that is the son of a big time person(name with-held ;p). However, none of these friends have ever rubbed off on me.

Okay okay, I would be obviously lying if I say that I haven’t dangled or been interested in two or more boys at a time(guilty) but the difference between me and these girls is that once a boy makes it official, I am his, only, period. I have never learnt how to love more than one person at a time because when I do love, that love is so pure, so unconditional, so sincere, and so total that I fear for the safety of the boy self. (Who has the strength to do that for two people at a time?) For instance, my 5-naira boy that I loved till so many many chances seemed to make him become too self-assure, or my first love that I gave everything to: body, soul, and spirit.

Hmmmm…I seem to have forgotten the point of this article…..

Okay, yes, a boy can fake a whole relationship.

Becoming aware of this fact has affected me like as if interfering cupid himself thrust a dagger in my heart. Hypothetically, how is it possible that I will be in a relationship with you for 2 years only to discover that you are still waiting on ONLY because of sex? Boys are shallow bastards (no offence to the ones that I care about).

I have a cousin who hasn’t slept with his girlfriend because she is still a virgin. They have been together for 4 years and in that time I cannot say that he has been celibate, because he hasn’t. But does he sleep with his own girlfriend? No! He’d rather deceive some other poor unknowing girl till he gets what he wants and then it is on to the next!

Sad, but true.

Apparently a boy can whisper sweet nothings to one girl just to get something from her, without never really even caring about her feelings or emotions. Apparently a boy can waste so much attention, money and “love” on a particular girl when he has his mind set on screwing her brains out. Pathetic, because for girls like me who are always willing to lend an ear to these “sweet nothings”, we become too vulnerable.

But now I have learnt, and my never-before-thought-of-cynicism has turned drastically into a doubt-the-bastard-out-of-every-word-he-says-cynicism.
I apologize to the boys that haven’t met me, but will meet me, probably fall in love with me, or even simply want to (forgive my language) fuck me. Because I have learned, and I have no one to thank except the boys that groomed me, the ones that hurt me, the ones that didn’t even want me. I have no one to thank except the boys that schooled me, consistently, till I became the master student.

You see, today I graduated!

#GBAM

First Blog Of The Year 2011...things I wanna have with You!

Entering 2011 is quite a big deal for me because I plan on starting afresh, or better still, giving everybody around me a clean slate. It might not be easy, but I plan on leaving behind all the negativity and channeling my remaining energy into so much positivity that it radiates off of me and bounces on my friends and family.

So I have managed to quickly pen down only a couple of names (forgive me if your name isn’t here, it’s not that I didn’t think of you, it’s just that u haven’t had enough time to compile this properly).

If your name is beside a word, and you don’t understand, don’t get angry abeg, it’s a new year, you can simply call me to ask me.

The word beside your name simply means that it is something I wish for you, have for you, or meant to have/experience with you! #GBAM

Happy New Year!


Chinedu @Maazi_Chiboy – Curiosity – Ope Olapade

Audrey Akagu – Excitement – Teekay @Slimboi_D

Cynthia Usen – Happiness – Betty @Omaegube

Dotun @dotchillz –Courage– Banke Fasominu

Mike Ojiakor –Contentment – Femi Ayileka

Ohimain Unuigbe –Appreciation – Safiya Sule

Mercy Etukudoh –Love – Shade Ola

Kumi @slavedriverkumi –Longetivity – Peter Salah

Akoh @Mr_Bondito –Laughter – Biodun Olapade Jnr

Chiedozie Ubadike –Forgiveness– Kayode Ehindero

Damilola @arogzz –Hope – Gary Ezeugo

John Tuki @johnddon –Confidence– Japari Ben-Hirki

Demola @Daymohla –Trust – Yeyemide Sanni

Deji Fayoyin –Optimisim – Sophea Mohamed @kekere_ekun

Ezrel Adelaja @ezrelaja –Comfort – Korede Ogidan

Ifeoma Johnson @Eformah –Peace – TY Lamba

Isioma @Isyormah –Second Chance – Kolade Faroun

Wande @wandeSpice –Friendship – Sonia Nwakama

Ibukun Coker –Faith – Toye Adeyemi @toyefreshboi

Ireti Abiola –Inspiration – Niyi Okeowo