“Change”
I have decided to rage against the machine!
I shall no more be a conformist!
People say “Why cooked yam and okro soup”
I say “Why not?”
You ask what has that got to do with “Change”
I say “The journey of a thousand mile starts with a single step”
Let me start small …
“You are leaving? Really? For how long? I am sure you will come back. But you have to do a threesome before you leave. It won’t cost you anything. Really. If nothing else, just watch them do each other.” He said to me.
And all I could think of was you.
So I smiled and said nothing.
Consider This
The voice of the angel was as thunder in the sky: “Son of man.”
“Here I am” I said.
“What would you give to roll back time? For the laws of God are set in the firmament for ever and ever. And for every sin, there is a just recompense”
“Which of my many sins” I asked, “for which I have not asked forgiveness?”
“Though thou has sought forgiveness and obtained it, karma must still be done, lest the sons of men take the heavens for granted and make mockery of the laws of God.”
“Will thou give thine right arm to see justice done?”
So whilst I pondered the devil and the deep blue sea, for I would regret parting with the left, but the right is as life itself.
Whilst the fruit of my indecision looked me in the face with a smirk on its lips
There was a shaking in the heavens
And lo and behold, a second angel whose dazzling apparel was a beauty to behold:
“Listen not to him who stands yonder. Look, even now his white is as rags, unfit for the earth. No, not the heavens”
And I looked, and indeed he spoke the truth, for the first angel’s countenance was as dark as his garment. Filthy beyond description
“Indeed the laws of God are eternal. But he forgives and does not bring to remembrance again.”
“Thy sin has been forgiven. But look to the earth, and see to it.
The will of man is strong, his memory infinite. Fear hath gripped his heart.
Have thou forgiven, thou who seek forgiveness?”
“Come, let us consider the matter.
The giving of a heart can never be forced. Moreso, if it be given under duress, know not that the end of such things is as uncertain as the ways of the wind upon the sea?
Thy heart aches, because of what thou hast done and failed to do.
Thou no longer take pleasure in the eating of thy meals, they are as burdens which must be borne.
And thy sleep is but short as a moment of time.
Look not to the heavens.
Look now and see that she of whom thou dreamest is happier without thy person to cast a blight upon her day.
See how she skips lightly like a songbird on her merry way.
Her worries are many like women before and after her.
But take solace, they are less one: thy attention constricted her throat; brought discomfort to her being; and lighlty brushed her heart with despair.
But now all that is in the past, If thou but stay away.
But the ways of the heart are inscrutable
Even now thou hope and scheme
Even these words I speak though thou hear,
would they sway the course thou art set thine heart upon?
Haven’t thy hasty choices these past year caused thee enough grieve?”
“But lest I take hope, nay, thy very soul and crush it with my words, I shall hold my tongue and what will be will be
Go now, son of man. Do what thou wilt.”
In the twinkling of an eye, the skies were darkened till nothing except the two beings in the sky could be seen with the naked eye.
And thus spoke the first angel from whose nose and mouth came smoke and sulphuric stench:
“Wouldst thou waste thy time upon this vain pursuit?
Knowest not thou, that even now, thy time upon the earth is half spent, and the ax nibbles at the foot of thy tree?”
And from the second Angel:
“Consider not words spoken in anger.
Remember not that anger in thine heart, though thou ground thy teeth and speaketh not, was thy fall from grass to grace?”
And with lightening rending the darkened sky:
“Know not thou that anger purifiest all things. And wheretofore thine heart lackest will and strength, now thou art as a lion fierce?”
“Hear me now, son of man, fault my speech if we do not find common ground.
Is not this the will of womankind?
A man aggressive above his peers, to take the bull by the horn, and bring it to heel?
For look, while thou shilly and shally, she places her hands in anothers.
Who knows whether he be meek or mild?”
“For don’t all men hide their wicked ways behind noble deeds until rings hold tapered fingers tight in vise-like grip?”
And the angel in the dazzling white:
“Son of man, he utters truth and lies in equal parts.
Let not his double-speak confuse thy unsettled mind.
Don’t all men and women have freedom of will to chose whom they desire to spend their time? ”
“Listen not to the voice of treason,
that would have thee treat womankind as lesser beings, incapable of making their own decisions.
Know not thou that womankind is in many ways wiser and stronger than credit is ascribed unto them?”
“Enough! I tire of this dragging of the feet!” Screamed the first angel.
“Let us set fire to this matter! We shall see if he comes refined like gold or burnt like chaff!”
And so saying, the first angel robed himself in a terrifying display of smoke, fire, fumes, thunder and lightning.
The vista was as if hell itself had arisen from the fiery depths and come upon the earth.
“Fear not son of man.” Said the second angel,
“For thou art been given dominion till this earth shall pass away”
And so saying, he stretched forth his hands and commanded: “Peace, be still.”
Immediately, there was another shaking in the heavens. And the darkness passed away along with the first angel and all the evil thereof.
And behold, the sky was as a day just dawned, with the sun in all its glory, shedding light on all below.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Son of man, thy will be done. But thou art responsibility for thine action and inaction.”
“But consider this: the same desires, displeasure and human feelings afflicts the fair lady. So when thou taketh thy decisions, remember this.”
“Is there any hope?” I inquired.
“There is always hope. But is it thine or hers? For what thou hopest for today, may be thy regret tomorrow.”
“I pray thee therefore, pray, and listen. If thou art prayed and listened. Thou wouldst not be in thy current dilemma.”
“Happiness is within thy grasp. But thou must look beyond thine nose.”
“And why dost thou torture thyself. Why not let go – let her go; keep thy promise.”
“Indeed, I promised. I intend to. I have set my hands to it and will surely try. Thus was the promise made.”
“So why dost thou set this down in black and white? Would it not aid thy labour and thy course if thou dost not?”
“Truly, thou art on point. But I once was part of a little group where the teacher asked of each person a simple question.”
“Which was?”
“Have thou felt the fire that burns without flame? That makes thine heart constrict but not painfully?”
“And only one solitary lady said “Nay”, to which the teacher lamented her loss.”
“Therefore I set it down, so that even if I never again feel that fire; in case I am asked when my joints are stiff, and I cannot recall the meal I had in the morning; I can still say:
“Lo! There! Read! I once felt the fire!”
“May it be unto thee as thou desireth.”
And so saying, the angel was caught up in a beam of blinding light.
And once again I was alone with my unwelcome thoughts.
(18/07/2012)
Notes: this is the last in the “series” (hopefully) – it’s easy to spot the common thread in the related posts.
It is interesting to note how people react to the hand.
I handed over my car to the AC repair man because there was some issue with it. Got on a Lagos state mass transit bus (lagbus) and witnessed an interesting exchange. The conductors don’t actually accompany the bus but stay at designated bus-stops. Some people had got on the bus prior to the bus-stop at which I boarded the bus. So, they were supposed to pay and get their tickets. Well, the conductor says the rules have been changed and they were no longer allowed to issue tickets on the bus meaning the passengers needed to alight from the bus, pay for their tickets, then get back on the bus. Well, the people weren’t having none of it and an impasse was rapidly developing along with raised voices.
Finally, they started getting down one by one. But, one man wasn’t going to let things go so easily, he started abusing the conductor and for a moment they were in each others faces. The most interesting comment came from the conductor: “Are you the only fool on the bus?”. Now that comment (even though I know what he meant) could be interpreted in several ways: 1. Was the passenger the single fool on the bus 2. The passenger wasn’t the only fool on the bus (meaning all the other previously adamant passengers were fools as well) so why is he the only one making a ruckus?
Fortunately, I wasn’t yet on the bus, so I am in neither category 🙂
But I digress, I was talking about the hand.
So after getting down from the bus, I walked towards my office and came across an Akara and Yam seller by the roadside. I haven’t eaten akara in a long time, and I couldn’t resist the smell. Especially these days when all food tasted bland in my mouth and I generally couldn’t be bothered.
Well, the middle-aged woman selling the Akara was brusque at first as I was trying to decide how much of each to buy (factoring in the fact that I am likely to have company in the office) and she practically didn’t look up from her bowl except to answer curtly.
Well, once she got around to looking up at me, and saw the hand, there was a magical transformation. She became very friendly at once, smiling widely, and very helpful. Thanking me, etc, etc. She asked me if the pepper she added was enough or if I wanted more. She doubled up the plastic bag so the oil won’t stain my bag, made a simple nought in it and even showed me where to pull to release it quickly and simply. She even added a little something on top. This can be embarrassing at times, but I thanked her very well. And she was all smiles as I left.
So later in the day, I was with a couple of colleagues heading out to see a client. They decided to make a detour to get mobile lunch at a place called Ghana High Canteen (GHC). I wasn’t really interested, and I wasn’t exactly hungry either after my morning indulgence, but on the second offer I decided to tag along rather than wait in the car. The first step was to buy what was called “Kome-Kome” just outside the canteen itself. This is a plastic bowl with a lid. You then went inside where a couple of women stood sentient over several huge aluminum and plastic bowls containing rice, assorted meat, salad, fried plantain, etc. Which brings me to the hand again. After dolling out the food into each bowl and covering it up, the lady placed it on a table top along with a plastic bag with the intention that the customer will grab both and put one in the other. She spoke very little when asking for what we wanted and while she was not exactly unfriendly was neither welcoming.
Sometime during the exchange, she noticed the hand. As I made an attempt for the bowl and the plastic bag, she got to it first and carefully placed the bowl in the plastic bag and offered it to me. Her behavior more helpful and concerned. I thanked her and she responded politely in turn. In a split second, her demeanor had changed. Hmm.
Once upon a time
That seems so long ago
You asked if you could touch the hand
And while “I am thy friend only” brought my hopes to a shuddering halt
Your touch was the highlight of the day
There was once a grumpy but kind old man that lived across the sea in a very small town. When he died, the vicar was hard pressed for what to say at his funeral. “The old man had a way with words and we all know that he had a good heart. He might not have come to church regularly, but we take comfort in knowing that at least he read his bible. For his last words were “F**k it! F**k it all!” and in so saying he summarized the message of Ecclesiastes in five words! May God have mercy on his soul and grant him eternal rest.
Happiness Lost
I am standing on the pier
My head bowed not against the wind
But to hide the tears
A grown man must not shed
“What ails thee” Said the boatman
“My earnings are in kobos* and coins.
But perhaps I can help”
I see him true and kind
Though lacking the gift of the “eye”
Will he dip his oar into my heaving chest
And stop the waves of despair?
So I lingered at the doctor’s door
He bade me step in for a moments span
A friendly ear in desperate times
But failing to perceive what cannot be seen,
He bade me adieu and pocketed his fees
Then I went seeking nothing at the weekly market
Hoping the noise would drown my thoughts
But though they screamed like the occupants of hell
It was as whispers in my ears
I found myself seated at a buka’s* table
I looked at the food as if it was alien fare
So the cook rested a while from roasting by her roaring flames
“Is the food lacking salt,” she asked
“Or the meat too hard for delicate teeth?”
Can she use fresh meat to mend the tear in my broken heart?
Or flames to sear the memories away?
So I paid my due and left the meal untouched
Where was I but in the vaulted halls
On hallowed grounds in the neighborhood church
It was at sunset that the priest found me
Just as I was on my knees an age ago
when the cock woke both the rich and poor
“My son” he said, though my age he was
“Some things cannot be fixed,
When the damage is done.
Look to Christ since you believe.
His Hands are long
And his hearing keen
So tarry awhile and pray a bit
He will heal your heart
And perhaps grant your wish.”
But happiness is lost
When I refused an offered heart
I struggled to regain it
But Alas! Too late! It has been offered out
Better a man than I, I guess
So once again I stood at the piers
And let the wind blow away my tears
And asked the boatman to ferry me away
“To where?”, he asked
“Anywhere where my thoughts can not follow”
He looked at me and saw the pain
So he cast his boat adrift on the roiling waves
And trailing my fingers in the sea
I thought I heard your laugh
Tinkling in the deeming lights
like silver bells gently in the wind
Which once brought me delight and joy
But it was the sea gulls
Making light of my broken dreams
And shining in the dark far from shore
Two lines of salty thread
seeking path from eyes to jaw
like drops of blood dripping on wood
carrying hapiness to your ears I hope
while I linger upon this flimsy tray
and wish the wind would carry my sadness away
*Kobo – coins of the Nigerian currency *Buka – public restaurant 
Only you can stop the rain
I held him in my arms
He said he was cold
So young was he
But with two arrows in his heart
Not even the gods can save him now
I told him to hold on
He said not to worry
He would soon be gone
The ambulance was 20 away
The police 30
He said he was cold
And his eyes were strange
He told me to draw closer
He needed you to know
His lips quivered
But his voice was steady
I know the message is for you
And with his last breath he whispered:
“Only you can stop the rain”
Blogging Hiatus
I think I really should stop writing (along with a few other things). All the stuff I have written in the past few weeks have brought nothing but trouble. I don’t think I will be missed much anyways. How many people even read this stuff? And there are thousands other blogs on wordpress.com and blogspot.com
So I am going on a blogging hiatus. Not sure for how long. May be 5 minutes or forever. We shall see how it shakes out.
I have lost my superhero status. Not quite a villain yet, but I need to stop working on getting there.
A colleague recently mentioned one way to lose weight involuntarily (not that I am looking to do so), but I think she was right. I haven’t eaten at all today, and I still don’t feel hungry at 7:30PM. Which I guess would be nice if I was actually looking to lose some weight. And if I could actually do something constructive in the meantime instead of just … doing absolutely nothing.
So, I have given myself permission to ramble a little since I am taking a break. I am thinking of going back to school. Well, not physically. I am thinking of a relatively new Masters degree at my Alma Mater (OAU) which is mostly online, so I should be able to combine it with “work”. Though a break from Lagos once in a while is not necessarily a bad thing.
Which reminds me of a comment a colleague at work made to me a couple of months ago: “It’s like you just recently discovered your mum lives in Ibadan eh?”
No, smart ass, I grew up in Ibadan 🙂
But I truly think I need to take off and roam this country. And it’s looking like something I may start doing soon. With my trusty Garmin GPS unit, my car, some cash, and my ATM card in my pocket, what could possibly go wrong?
After all, the Zombie Apocalypse (seriously, that again?) hasn’t yet happened. So this is the time for such things. And I can still run like the wind and skip a little if necessary (not too old yet). Won’t it be interesting if I actually helped precipitate the apocalypse?
But first, I need to contact Mila J. A blood transfusion from her to me is in order. If I am too survive the Zombie infestation, I must be ready for the Umbrella Corporation.
And let’s not forget that I need to learn to kick ass first!
Speaking of which, I should look around for some dojo where I can enroll with a Master that will take it easy on me. My bones are too creaky for some of the more fanciful poses the younger ones can strike.
Just BB’ing with my sis on and off during the day. And no, the topic is off limits (well, until I compulsively put it up).
I am trying to convince myself that I am not bad, creepy, evil, and a whole lot of other things. Let me pretend I am just “intense” instead of all those negative things. And compulsive at times (translate: don’t know when to stop). I think I am getting there, but I need to move fast – as they say, I am on the clock!
Bad habits – hmm, procrastination, room is a little shabby, (but hey, I keep my teeth clean), procrastination (again for emphasis), what else? Someone help me out here.
What do the psycho-analyst people call it? Writing as a form of therapy (the actual phrase/word I am looking for eludes me)
But there is something obviously wrong (I think) if I am writing this in the dark with my laptop running on an inverter, so I am packing this up, getting dressed and going to The Palms. I will just hang out and watch happy people drift by, may be I will join them soon, but not today.
And if there is a good film on show, I will go sit in the middle seat of the middle row and lose myself for a couple of hours in some cinema magic. I can imagine myself up there on the big screen bringing the wicked to justice and saving the world at the same time – and don’t forget the hero gets the girl!
It’s now 8:50PM. I started writing over an hour ago I think. Time to bring the rambling to a close and get started on that hiatus. I can’t guarantee the length of it, but rest assured it will be a couple of hours at least!
After watching several episodes of the detective series called “King”, I decided to hit the road. Told my cousin I was heading out and she asks if I was going sight-seeing or to pick “some” – hmmn – up. I knew she was joking, so I said yes, but on the condition that I can bring “them” home. I laughed. The only feeling they arose in me is pity and sometimes sadness. Because though they individually chose to stand by the side of the streets, it is a hard life, and I can’t but wonder at the regrets they cover up with mascaras; at the tears under the pancake; at the hope and innocence that have been lost and forgotten.
Got in the car and went over the bridge into Ikoyi. Briefly thought about going over the third mainland bridge, turning round at the other end, then coming right back. At some point Shalamar’s “Friends” came up on the radio – just the song to feed my blues.
I smiled as I listened.
I drove randomly around the side roads in Ikoyi until I was completely lost. Just like I wanted. It’s Friday night. I remember sending “condolences” to a facebook “friend” a Philiphino lady I had somehow become “friends” with on facebook. She had posted earlier today something along the line of “Six days after buring her dear brother. Feeling so lost” I put on the GPS, and punched the “Go Home” icon.
Then George Michaels’ “Careless Whispers” came on. I was soon singing along with him. The wordings were appropriate at times.
Maybe the next time I am “out”, I may just go for that short drama course, or the voice training one – at least I can get a professional to tell me definitively never to sing again – whether in the shower or not, alone or not, and never ever to frighten the neigborhood cats on a moonless night with my attempts at Opera (just joking)
If you are reading this, I hope it’s not tonight. Otherwise I would assume you are just as bored as I am, and that’s no place to be on a Friday evening.
Made a few detours but I am back home. Maybe I should wonder what the rover is doing at this moment on Mars, or what that particular individual sitting in the big monitoring room among several other people is thinking about while doing his bit monitoring the progress of the latest rover that’s approaching Mars even as I write: is he thinking of his bills; his wife; his in-laws; his life; who knows. But no matter what, he is part of the universe at this point in time.
So I will watch a few more episodes of King, then call it a night. And to the randomness of it all, nope, not correct. After all, I made a sequence of choices or decisions: Ikoyi rather than third mainland; drive rather than stay indoors; listen to the radio instead of my own heartbeat.
And the reason I stepped out? To get away from my thoughts for awhile? Unsuccessful: they followed me everywhere I went.
And I remember as I stepped out, going through my mind was the following:
“The boundaries are drawn”
“The boundaries are drawn!” said the man at the gates.
“But where are these gates that I may go through them?”
The Zombie Apocalypse
The people that believe in such stuff, say there are going to be 2 apocalypse: the Zombie apocalypse followed by the grand old apocalypse with which we are all most familiar, and then of course the end of the world.
I don’t put much stock in such goings-on. What the hell is a Zombie anyway? Someone trying to take a bite out of you after they have been bitten themselves? They exist already: they are called toddlers and sometimes “little runts”. And I have never once felt the need to go out and bite another person after being bitten by one of these little ones.
But having said that, I don’t see anything wrong in being prepared just in case those assumed nutcases happen to be right.
So, to start with, I have gone and got myself some serious body armour which is impervious to teeth of all shapes and sizes. I know it works because I tested it on the big rabid dog roaming my neigbourhood before having mercy on it and putting it out of its misery. And I can tell you it gave it all it got: I can’t even see the teeth marks at all, and it had some serious teeth in its head I tell you!
Next, we should not forget the firepower. If I am going to be putting hordes of rampaging rabid zombies down by the thousands, then I need some serious firepower to do it. Therefore, I have visited all the gun shops within a 50 miles radius of my house and put one single demand to each of them: “Gimme all the BFGs* you got!”
But what are guns without ammo. Fortunately, I got the next best thing to unlimited ammo – a production overrun from the ammo factory in the neighboring county. I have got it stashed away in my basement, my room, my refrigerator, my pantry, my pockets, under my bed, my tool shed, my neighbors toolshed (no, he doesn’t know it is there – the only thing he uses that place for is to stock his illegal moonshine), think of anywhere one can stash such things and I have got it covered.
And if you have thought everything through like myself, you will know that starving to death in a zombie apocalypse is no fun at all. You might as well go lie down outside on the road, and let them do short work of you. So, to prevent such unnecessary waste of great genetic material that may be the saving grace of humanity, I have stocked piles and piles of all those flash-freeze-dried-in-a-vacuum concentrated food – they taste like sh*t but they will keep you alive if you don’t mind chewing on something that tastes like your great grandpa’s discarded leather work shoes.
And not to leave anything to chance, after perusing all those fringe websites and reading a ton of these extremists zombie-believers’ brochures and fliers, I have decided to plant the tobacco plant round my house. Some nutters believe zombies can’t stand it. And no, it’s not smoking the stuff that drives them away, that would probably kill you long before the zombie apocalypse (which is not necessarily a bad thing depending on your point of view). So I am putting the government on notice: If you come to my house, what you see is not “weed”, it is plain old tobacco!
I think I have got all the bases covered.
And before you ask, I have tapped into an aqueduct running below my house so I am sure of a continuous supply of clean uninfected water if it comes down to making a stand in my basement.
All that’s left now is to sit back and watch the fun begin.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
BFG* – Big Freaking Gun