Saturday, 19 May 2018

Lagos Chronicles 3 The ATM

If anyone had told me that I would one day stand on an ATM queue with the machine showing out of service... I would have said impossible. πŸ˜‚
I went out that evening in a bid to withdraw cash and head to the market. I got to this bank and met about 4 people on the queue and nobody using the machine. When I asked, I was told the machine was out of service. I was shocked! I probed futher and I was told "na so e dey do;on and off". I decided to give it a few minutes. In about two minutes, when I was about walking away the machine spurred back to life. Wow! The two people in front withdrew and that was it... back to status quo πŸ˜‚. I didn'teven consider leaving... I had been bitten by the bug! I stood gingerly... waiting

Soon, two guys joined us and were behind me on the queue. By the time I had waited about seven minutes, I gave up and decided to go. I had walked about 40m away when the guy that was right behind me called me saying the machine was back. I was pleasantly surprised.
Guess what, right after I withdrew before him... back to out of serice. I thanked him profusely and asked why he called me and he legit said because of the trumpet πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ In case God decided to end the world.... he didn't want to be found wanting.

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Lagos Chronicles 2 The church

Lagos Chronicles 2
The church

People have different things in mind consciously or unconconcionsly when they are searching for a place of worship. For me, it's the undiluted word. You can't blame me.... covenant baby!

So I usually don't expect anything or put seriously into consideration other factors. I went to this church with an open mind.

When I stepped into this church, I was wowed!
It wasn't even the size or the edifice.... it was the people! The choristers were on the podium so gloriously dressed (not uniformed) but they looked as if they were in uniforms... it's kind of hard to explain. I was ushered to a seat and in no time ... eyes closed... heart open I worshipped and danced as if I was among the founding fathers πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚.

Time for the word and I was itching... my heart thirsty and hungry... yearning... it had been a while. The Pastor of the church came and talked about the visiting pastor who was going to preach but also said some other things... I almost needed a dictionary πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚. The words flowed like oil ... The way and manner he spoke of the HolySpirit...

The visiting Pastor was from Pittsburg. When this man began preaching I knew that this Nigeria may not be my home πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚.

He was an artist... he sang a little and spoke a little. He told us a story about a man who couldn't go home for Christmas but decided he should get his father an exceptional gift. He was living in Brazil at the time and his father Texas. After thinking he decided on a bird. A special breed which could talk and learn different languages. He got to the shop and noticed a very beautiful one which was already bilingual.  It could speak both Portuguese and English (Take note; Brazilian is not a language Brazilians speak mostly Portuguese).
The shop keeper said the bird was about $7000 and wgen he told him it was going to be sent to the US he said he would have to pay extra $3000 for proper documentation, vaccine etc. He thought for a while and said to himself "well my dad is worth it."  He paid and the bird was shipped to his dad.

He called his dad a few days later
Son: hey dad, have you recieved the gift I sent You?
Dad: Oh yes son, it was a delicious bird.
Son: Dad! You ate the bird?
Dad: Yes and it was really good.. it was all the works... the sauce .. the ...
Son: Dad, that bird cost me a fortune! It could speak English and Portuguese.
Dad: *pauses for a bit* Well, it should have said something then.

πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

You and I are mostly bilingual.  Earthly language and speaking in tongues. Do you say something (speak in tongues of fire or declare the word) in times of adversity and otherwise or you keep quiet????

1corithians 14: 15-18

Eagles, he reminded me of CU when he said we could sing in tongues while working, on the bus, cooking etc....

I have to stop here. 😊😊😊😊

PS everybody in this church was beautifully created by God! "I lie you not"
I wasn't looking around but witg screens and all not... not one person had a hair strand out of place. My God!!!!!

Lagos I don come....


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Lagos Chronicles 1 Lagos I don come

Lagos Chronicles 1
Longest time... I missed this space.
How has life been? I honestly would love to know if you're willing to share.

When I move from one geographical space to another, I usually shy away until I feel comfortable enough...

My Lagos Chronicles..
As a child in primary school, I picked up a song from only God knows where and it formed a vivid image or picture of Lagos that could only be described with a word...CHAOS!
Here's the song... a good number of you may know it.

"Lagos I don come o, I dey hear your stories before.
Lagos I don come o, as I see e get as e be.
As I reach the bustop people just full like market.
Some dey struggle to go in
Some dey struggle to go out
Some people jump through the window.
Lagos I don come o, I dey hear your stories before."

Before now, I have never really lived in Lagos. Visited a lot of places but all very short visits and purposeful.
The things I see daily and hear daily makes my fingers itch to write. Lagos is the city of the wealthy and the the poor all commuting mostly in exact same traffic. Traffic has a way of humbling us all and reminding us that last last we are all one πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚.

Lagos is a city where one second you think you're no longer in Nigeria and just a few minutes later you wonder when you got to a "gbene" aka fishing port πŸ˜‚.
Walk into some institutions and you wonder if the Nigerians are different from the breed right outside the doors... πŸ˜‚

Yesterday, in my hunt for a place of worship...  My uncle invited me to his church and I decided to go worship with him.
That story has to be a post on it's own.

Lagos true true I don come... I dey hear your stories before.


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Monday, 26 February 2018

Life in the village

Life in the village
The weeks I spent in the village during each visit were vital parts of my life. To me, my village was in every sense of the word home! My village is Peretorugbene Town in Ekeremor local government area, Bayelsa State. In my head was shaped like a capital letter  written reversed but with more than three prongs. I wish I could draw it... a long stretch of the river, a small road between the river and the streets. Almost every street had a warf at the foot of the river made of wood and a separate resting place called atele made out of bamboo sticks. The Warf serves a lot of purposes; makes it easy to get on or off the boats and canoes, it also serves as a platform for chores. Washing clothes, plates, farming and fishing tools, bathroom as well.

We had the village center, radio house which stood as a major way to disseminate information by the use of public address system, a hospital which I never saw, the community school, we also had lots of churches too. The garment churches always looking clean and colourful in their robes on Sundays. They barely ever clo9se before 4pm! The market confused me a lot! Coming from the city where a market remained a market everyday morning till night to a village where we had market days (Dorogu fou) and times (usually night). You get to the market at night and it's teeming with activities and music, the next morning you won'tsee any sign that that spot was a matket. Everyone gone by very huge boats to another nearby village!!!! Till same day next week.

I enjoyed going to the warf for any reason whatsoever. I would prefer to wash the plates there (please don't ask me how many of my mothers cuttleries I lost in that process) or the number of my slippers that was carried away by the ever flowing river. I enjoyed watching the kids swim after the chores until I learnt how to swim and joined them.

I enjoyed eating coconut rice, banga rice, squid, karafiye, I didn't like mgbosu, I loved gbe and doun aka bayelsa suya were classics, madiga, so many other things. The village had varieties.

I spent my mornings lazying around, sitting on our porch and watching people leave for either their farms or go fishing, you'll hear them call after their kids and give instructions to the ones they are leaving behind. The cries of the littles ones that want to go with their mothers or grand mothers and someone in the compound trying to pacify and all that. Then I hope for the sun to shine bright so we can brube our mum to let us swim rather than have our baths in the bathroom.

I spent my afternoon/evening time playing and taking fun trips with my playmates. We made dolls our of the barks of plantain trees, we buy and sell stuff using the wraps of gums, we walked to the mild bushes and plucked some edible fruits and delicacies, we cooked, ran and played all day! As the evening approached, my playmates begin to disperse. Their mothers or grandmothers would be back from the farm soon. Things had to be done to avoid being beaten. I join them to do their chores, I enjoyed bathing the smaller ones.

The arrival of those that went to the farm or went fishing meant the children around had to help off load everything. You get rewarded most times by a fish or a big Crayfish or any other species. Now the big question, who would help me roast my prize? I would watch these kids expertly clean my fish with theirs and sit by the fireplace hoping to learn how to so the next day.... forget it. I usually got my fish burnt before it is cooked. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚.

It was very easy to communicate with the children and adults because I was fluent in my language Ijaw. Sometimes, you're given a tray load of any farm produce to help hawk. I would balance my tray on my head, count all the goods and ask the prices and also the least acceptable price and with my partner off we go. I looked out of place in my beautiful clothes hawking... my mum will laugh and encourage me to go but when you're tired just come back home. It was safe to move around. My goods were sold quickly I think mostly because people were eager to ease the load.

I remember following my grandmum to the farm a couple of times. She carried dried fish and garri which was my snack. I don't remember doing any useful work in the farmπŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚. I knew how to do almost nothing. I also tried my hands on weaving the traps, that was much more successful than farming. I don't think I ever caught a fish in all my years of trying πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚.

Masqurades!!! I remember very little about them. The practice was abandoned roughly about 15 years ago if I'm not mistaken. Back then, the radio house would announce the particular masqurade that would display, the day and time. I remember the yellow one with black large polka dot (I think it was called eremtoru) then there was also "gulogulo owei" anyway the fun was being chased but you wouldn't catch me near even the window. I was that terrified of the charade yet I liked the adrenaline rush. So I would peep and watch the young teenagers tease the masqurades and eventually get chased and all that. The one I would always remember.... Olorungu it was the most dreaded. All dressed in red, merciless and usually the last. The last masqurade I saw was this one, an aunty in the compound convinced me to go with her in a canoe as we trailed its activities from one street to the next. We felt relatively safe since we were using the canoe and it was displaying on land. I don't know what triggered this masquerade but it threw a bottle at the river... I almost peed on my pant. I kept asking myself who sent me to follow this masquerade πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚. I got back home safely giving glory to God only to realise the masqurade cut down our plantain tree.

My village was my safe haven!
I could goon and on and on....

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