Tuesday, 27 December 2011


Hello everyone, hope the Christmas holiday has been fantastic. Mine has been pretty eventful with lots of places to go to and people to visit. I attended a traditional wedding here in Lagos yesterday and it was fun. The groom is from Anambra while the bride is from Akwa Ibom. When my father showed me the invitation card, I jokingly told him that it wouldn't be a bad idea to have my own traditional wedding (Igba-Nkwu) in Lagos. At least, it would save us the stress of travelling and all that. He said Mba,,,, that in our culture (Igbo), the traditional wedding must be done in the girls' village..............I just smiled because I already knew that would be his response. My father loves his tradition ehnnnnn. Chai. :-)

Anyway, back to the wedding i attended. I love the idea of cross cultural weddings. The fusion of both cultures adds color to the event. The wedding was held at the poolside of a hotel. At the entrance of the venue, we were welcomed by two ladies who beckoned on us to come and sign the couple's tree. Below is the picture:

They politely informed us that the couple requested that everyone should thumbprint and write their names on their paper tree. It was my first time of seeing that and it was amusing, but we obliged them. I guess the couple would later frame it. We were given baby wipes to clean the ink from our fingers and then ushered to our seats to enjoy the wedding rites and all. I loved watching the cultural troupe from Akwa Ibom as they entertained us. Below are some pictures I took of them:

I like their dance. The way they twirl around with that round thing on their waist and all was fun to watch. I also appreciated my Ndi Igbo people when they came out to do their traditional dance and usher the groom to his seat..:

The group had almost passed where I was sitting, before i remembered that I wanted to take pictures. :-).

It was an interesting wedding with parts of it done in the Akwa Ibom dialect and parts done in Igbo. I admire people that marry outside their tribe. Aside from the love the couple have for each other, I think it takes a whole lot of courage too, especially if you do not understand your spouse's language. Using myself as an example, even though i grew up in Lagos, I can't speak Yoruba. *covers face in shame*. I understand a bit of the language, but that's about it.  So imagine if I were to marry a Yoruba guy, I would feel kindda weird if we visit his people or friends and they are gisting in his language. Oh well, yeah, I know i could always learn it and all that.

My sister is married to an Edo man and i sometimes ask her how she feels when they are in the midst of the hubby's people and they are all gisting in his language. She just shrugged and said it's not that bad and she is also learning the language, but in the meantime, once they remember that she doesn't understand, they quickly switch back to English. :-). I think that's really nice of them ooo. :-)

I wish the couple: Emem and Okezie a fabulously blissful marriage.

Monday, 19 December 2011


I woke up excited that I was resuming in my new branch. The excitement was more because I would no longer be facing trailers with their containers and tankers on my route. It's such a relief to me. I got to work at about 7:30am and thankfully, saw a familiar face there. *Steve is a relief Cash Officer/Funds Transfer guy and he would be the one to put me through on my F.T duties. I freshened up and patiently waited for my Head of Operations *Lekan. When he eventually got to the office, he gave me a shocker. Apparently, he and the Hop of another branch had some sort of agreement. And the Group Head was in on it too.

Let me make it easy for you all to understand. Let's call my new branch A and the other branch B. *Steve is the Cash Officer in B. He is presently at A relieving the Cash Officer and also doubling up as the F.T guy. The F.T guy in B has just been transferred effective today. So the Hop of B pleaded with the Hop of A to send me (the new F.T lady) to branch B to act as their F.T lady pending when the original Cash Officer in branch A resumes. When the Cash Officer in A resumes, *Steve would come back to his original branch B and I would go back to my new branch A. (I hope I didn't confuse you all with this ramblings:-)). When my new boss told me this, I actually thought he was joking, but he wasn't. I looked at him long and hard (in my mind, i was saying.... You guys must be kidding me right), bid *Steve farewell and left for my second new branch.

Thankfully, it's also not too far from my home. On getting there, I met my newest Hop *Dinma. She is quite nice. She immediately told me that I would work with them until the second week of January 2012. She also explained to me that for this week, my system right would be amended to that of an F.T person. However, effective next week, I would become a relief Customer Service Officer because the C.S.O guy would be proceeding on his leave. As soon as he resumes, I will be switched back to my F.T rights and I would go back to my initial new branch A. While she was talking, I almost started laughing because this wasn't what I bargained for at all.

The problem I have with my bank and I guess it might be happening in other places too is that, they don't want to employ. There are loads of unemployed youths out there, but Mba, we are not employing. I hear phrases such as "We are cutting cost" and it just annoys me. In cutting cost, the bank can use an individual to do several job functions. And at the same time, the staff is supposed to deliver excellent and prompt service to the customer, be forever smiling and cheerful and there is zero tolerance for errors. Mschewwwwwwwwwwww......

So at the moment, I'm familiarizing myself with my second new branch (even though I will be there for just three weeks), learning and working as the F.T person before flipping over to the C.S.O desk (grinning widely while flexing my muscles).

In all these happenings, I say this to myself: "Every single thing is working together for my good'. Even if I can't understand the how or why. One thing I do know is that even though I am not where I want to be, but I'm definitely not where I used to be. I just know that God is aware of the present happenings and is masterminding everything to work out for my good.

Stretching and Yawning.......Goodnight y'all.

Loads of love and hugs.

Thursday, 15 December 2011


Work has been very hectic this past weeks. This season is especially busy in the banking sector, because a lot of customers are determined to make the most of the remainder of the year. Two weeks ago, we started planning our end of year party. As the assistant service co-ordinator, I had to be actively involved in the planning. At first, majority of us wanted a beach party, but after some deliberations, we decided to visit an orphanage and also have a Xmas TGIF. A group of people were delegated to represent the branch at the orphanage and yours truly was among. We chose to visit an orphanage in Surulere because of proximity to our office. We went there today and it was a rewarding experience. The kids were fun to be with and some of my colleagues that also went were so sober. Lots of thoughts such as: "How could people just dump their kids"?, "Hope those deformities can be cured" were going through their minds. We played with them, asked their matrons some questions, prayed with them and presented our gift items. Sadly, we couldn't take a lot of pictures with the children, because it is against their policy. We could only take pictures with one child, who would represent all the children. A very friendly and beautiful little girl Chichi* by name was asked to take the pictures with us. We had a nice time with them and on our way back to the office, thanked God for our lives and the families we have.

Our Xmas TGIF will hold tomorrow. "Yaaaaayyyyyyyyyy"

I can't wait ooo. I have mandated all my colleagues to add extra speed to their jobs tomorrow. We need to balance all our transactions early, so we will have enough time to groove. :-). We gonna party hard because we have every reason to. God has been good to us individually and as a branch. In this year, one of us got married, some of my colleagues put to bed and some were promoted. Armed robbers were far away from us and no fraud passed through my branch, none of us died or had accidents to and from work and other places we went to. I could go on and on about God's mercies and kindness towards I and my colleagues.  

On a different note, I got a mail this afternoon informing me that I have been transferred effective Monday. I had mixed feelings when I saw the mail. I would miss my friends (the few that I'm very close to) :-(. I was happy however because I would be in a new environment, face new challenges in terms of my new job function (Funds Transfer desk) and generally start anew. The best part for me is that my new branch is not too far from my house and I would always be going against traffic. *dancing around*. If you live in Lagos, you will understand why I'm so happy about that. Since my boss saw the mail, he has been singing with my name that they are going to miss me :-). So tomorrow, I will send my hand over note to the service co-ordinator (She resumed today from her maternity leave), tidy up my desk, hand over my other duties and GROOVE (for me it will be Xmas/ Send-forth parryyyyyyyyy) :-).

I'm off to polish my dancing shoes. :-D

Sunday, 11 December 2011


I love music. Be it singing, listening to it or dancing to it, I simply love music. There is a very old radio in my house that I'm sentimentally attached to. I'm pretty sure it's older than even my eldest sister :-D, but it is still functional. The knob used to tune to different stations is spoilt, so we replaced it with a pair of scissors or a key or anything. The radio is portable, so we just move it around. It's semi permanent position is in the kitchen. Well, this is mainly because of me. My popsie calls me the kitchen manager, because I'm the eldest in the house now, so I'm in charge of the kitchen. :-).  I love food, mostly the eating aspect, not the cooking. :-). So the radio keeps me company when I'm cooking, washing up or generally fiddling around in the kitchen. Below is a picture of the radio in my kitchen:

The radio is not that bad abi. That radio you see in the picture has kept me abreast of what's happening in terms of music, news, traffic report and general gist. Somehow, with the radio blaring loudly and me shaking my booty while cooking or washing the dishes, time just zooms past and before I know it, I'm through with what I'm doing.

 Below is a plate of fried rice garnished with tomatoes and boiled egg prepared by my humble self :-) and a tray of salad prepared by my sister and I.

I just love the colorful combination of the veggies in the salad. I love colors too. Yummy looking ehhh.......

Merry Xmas to y'all.

Sunday, 27 November 2011


I get excited each time I log on and see a new follower. *dances for a while and settles down*. I will like a say a big welcome to you all. You guys warm my heart. *hugs and kisses*. And to all my other followers: both the visible and silent ones, loads of love to you guys.

To my post for the day. I saw a friend's blackberry display picture and it brought back memories of my childhood days. I quickly saved the image and used it as my display picture: 

As soon as I saw this picture, I burst out laughing because I sooooooo did this as a kid. It was our own interpretation of spiderman. :-).  My siblings and I had fun doing this, but it was always when our parents were not in. You wouldn't dare to do this with them at home for fear of being scolded or beaten. 

Image from Google
How many of you slid down (or still slide down ;-) ) the banister? There was this rush of excitement I felt whenever I did this then. A lot of other kids in my compound used to do this too. It was fun watching to know who slid down the fastest. 

Image from Google
Ohhhhhhhh, the joy of climbing trees. We had an apple tree (the naija kind) and an almond (popularly known as fruit) tree in my compound and we took turns to climb the apple tree to pluck the fruit. It was quite high, but as adventurous kids, it was fun climbing it. It had lots of branches, so that helped. The older kids climbed, plucked and threw the fruits down, while the younger kids stayed down to pick the fruits. After we were done, the fruits would be washed and shared. It was a nice way to learn division of labor and unity. :-). The almond tree didn't have a lot of branches, so we had to pluck the almond using long sticks. I especially liked the nut inside the almond.

Image from Google
I loved the swings and more so because I could do a lot there. We had a lot of swings at the back of the house and the kids would all gather to play. Aside from the normal seat with your bum and be pushed high up (exhilarating feeling i tell you) , I could also hang upside down and then tumble and land perfectly. Sometimes, I would push myself up and hang with my my neck for a while, before tumbling down. At other times, I would turn upside down, hang with my legs and just enjoy the scenery from upside down. ;-). The swing was higher than the one in the picture. Quite risky i know. The amazing thing is that none of us kids had any serious injury from this rather rough plays. I can't even remember I or my siblings having any injury sef. 

A friend of mine saw the picture and we started chatting. She is a mother of two boys and she said she would have a fit if she saw her sons doing the spiderman thingy. I wonder how our parents coped with us. We both agreed that our guardian angels must have always been on their toes looking out for us. 

I also remember tenten, suwe, cooking with sand and leaves, flying from the dining table aka superman, LOL, the fun things we did as kids.

 Feel free to share some childhood games you played. 

I can't believe tomorrow is Monday again. *sighs*. Where did my weekend go to? :-(

Have a splendid week y'all. *hugsssssss*

Friday, 18 November 2011


I hate drugs, but there is something I hate more than that, and  that is injections. It's funny that I have to say this, because I grew up with drugs and injections all around me. My mum was a nurse and so our home was a hospital of sorts. We had a basket (big hamper basket) full of drugs. We also had a section of the wardrobe in the girls room where injections, drips and all first aid things were kept. Once anyone is ill, be it family, neighbors or friends, they just come to the house and Momsie will administer drugs or give injections or drips. My mum was an extremely caring person and all these treatments were free, so I guess that's why people were always coming to our home whenever they were sick. Sadly though, none of us ( her kids) towed the medical line. I almost did, but changed my mind while I was in the university.

I self-medicate because I noticed that whenever I run a test and go to our family hospital, the doctor always prescribes two injections for me for three days. They always work though, but no, thanks. Since I'm not a fan of the needle, I try to avoid the hospital. I always act drama before I allow the nurses to prick me. It's not as if I plan to, but I always tell them to wait a while for me to psyche myself before they jab me. They are my friends (by virtue of constantly visiting the hospital), so they will just laugh and tell me to inform them when I'm ready. Also, if I notice that I feel extra pain when you give me an injection, I will try to avoid you. :-).

I had been feeling ill for almost a week now. I bought "Artesunate"(a malaria drug), Panadol and some multivitamins. I started taking them, although the effect wasn't as fast as I wanted it to be. I managed to go to work everyday, but was feeling really awful: I was having terrible headache, feeling cold internally, but sweating, joints aching me, loss of appetite and all that. Finally, I felt I couldn't take it anymore and decided to run some tests. I took today off work and did malaria and typhoid tests. The result came out and it read that I had both malaria and typhoid. :-(.

My next line of action was to visit our family hospital. I did that reluctantly. When I got there, I didn't meet my usual doctor. I explained to the doctor on duty *Dr Frank how I had been feeling and showed him my test result. Before he started writing his prescriptions on my hospital file, I asked him if there was an alternative to injections. He asked for my reason and I explained to him. *Dr Frank just sat there smiling and started writing. After a while he showed me what he wrote down. They were drugs. I asked him if they would work fast because in as much as I don't like injections ( and I had taken quite a lot this year), I could take them if they would work faster. Basically, I just wanted something to make me get well quickly.

Dr Frank allowed me to finish talking and patiently explained to me that whichever one I chose (whether drugs or injections), it would work and he wouldn't say that injections work faster than drugs. After we had talked for a while, I left the hospital with the drugs he prescribed and a resolve in my mind to pray and confess God's Word more as regards my health. I'm also determined to take better care of myself and also eat lots of fruits and veggies to build up my immune system.

 Y'all have a beautiful and healthy weekend. *love and hugs*

Sunday, 13 November 2011


One of my relatives *Mr Ike lost his wife some months ago. As is typical in Igbo culture, my father and some of his kinsmen decided to go and pay him a condolence visit. The proposed visit happened today. My younger brother *Obinna went with them because he did his Industrial Attachment (IT) in *Mr Ike's company. When they were almost there, my father decided to call to inform him that they were almost at his house. *Mr Ike responded by saying that he is in South Africa. They exchanged some pleasantries and condolence messages over the phone and my father and his kinsmen reversed and started the journey back to our house.

Obinna gave me the gist when they got home. Apparently, my father and his kinsmen were not happy that *Mr Ike was not in the country when they decided to visit him. They were discussing among themselves and saying things like "A man in mourning should not step out of his house for a period of time, not to talk of travelling out of the country", "It is not proper according to our tradition", "People would say that he did not  mourn his wife well", bla bla bla. All that one did not concern me. *Mr Ike has buried his wife over a month ago and what  if he decides to go chill out and mourn her in South Africa. Whose business is that. What made me laugh and shake my head was the fact that none of them thought of calling *Mr Ike first to be sure he would be at home, before going to pay him a visit. I have seen this happen time and time again and I keep on wondering at people's behavior.

Once I was at home, and a relation of mine came with his wife, their baby and his mother to visit my father. Let me digress a bit. I live in a block of flats and I stay at the topmost flat. You will have to climb about fifty (50) stairs to get to my home. Yep, no lifts at all. It's not as terrible as it sounds :-). I see it as a great form of exercise. I usually run up and down the stairs instead of walking. Okay, back to my gist: When I opened the door and saw them, I felt sorry for them, but at the same time, wanted to laugh. :-D. My dad wasn't home and they were looking tired probably from climbing up the stairs. The following conversation ensued between us:

Che: Ahhhh, good-afternoon, welcome (smiling warmly)
Them: Thank you (They have a seat). Is daddy at home?
Che: No, he traveled.
Them: (Looking crestfallen). Really.
Che: Don't you have his number?
Them: We do, but we thought he would be at home.

I served them drinks, they rested for a while and left.

My people, what is the essence of having a phone if you can't call first before going to visit ehnnnn? I can't believe in this day and age of mobile phones, someone will stress himself (especially in Lagos) and embark on a journey to visit without calling first. It doesn't make sense to me at all. Even if it is a very good friend or family member that you want to visit, put a call through first. The person might have other engagements for the day and you could arrange to visit some other time or the person might just want to rest and not want to receive any visitors that day.

Can you imagine leaving your house in Surulere (whether in your own car or public transport) and going all the way to Satellite town to visit someone; only to get there and not meet the person. Chai, with the traffic and time wasted, that is just crazy. I value my time and hate stress and know people do too, so I always call first before visiting.

Friday, 4 November 2011


My Branch Manager *Bimbo resumed work 3weeks ago after her maternity leave. We were all happy to see her back in the office (well, most of  us were). She resumed on a Thursday and so she joined us for our weekly meeting. After the meeting, I was about to leave to go and sort out some things, when she called me. Apparently, while the meeting was going on, she had looked down and noticed that *Yewande (my colleague) was wearing peep-toe shoes and she felt it wasn't in line with the bank's dress code. Who else to table the matter to than me: the service co-ordinator. *Yewande was all too pleased to meet with me because she knows most of my work shoes are peep-toe. When *Bimbo saw my shoes, she shook her head and said: "You as the service co-ordinator are supposed to lead by example". I explained to her that the shoes are in line with the bank's policy on dressing. *Bimbo looked at me like she didn't believe what I just said, she said some things and eventually left.

This is the kind of situation where my Mum would have said "Ana ko ozo, ndi mmadu ana ko ozo" meaning "We are discussing something important, while some other people are talking about trivial things". In other words, instead of her to think of ways that the branch can make profit and move forward, she is bothering herself with the kind of shoes we wear to work. *smh*. I had written a post on:  THE RITUAL OF WHAT TO WEAR and here was *Bimbo trying to make matters worse for me.

I thought that would be the end of the matter, but *Bimbo didn't think so. Three days later, I had forgotten all about the shoe conversation with her when I saw her approaching. She immediately asked me if I had clarified on the kind of shoes we were allowed to wear to work. In my mind, I was wondering what her problem was. Had she finished thinking of how her new son was coping with the nanny and mummy not been around, had she finished sorting out what her family would eat for the week? Madam, free me abeg. I politely told her that I would do that immediately.

I got back to my seat and *Yewande was on chat with me. I told her the latest development on the shoe matter and she suggested that we chat with *Shade (the overall co-ordinator of the service management group). We did, and *Shade took her time to explain what we could wear and what we couldn't wear. At the end of our discussion with her, we realized that we were not wrong to wear the peep-toe shoes (as long as it was fully covered at the back). I quickly saved our chat in my mail for record purposes.

 So far, *Bimbo has not asked me about the shoes again. If she does, I will send her a mail with an attachment of the chat, so she will hear from the horses mouth that we are not wrong. Below are pictures I took of my shoes. I wish I could wear the pair of blue sandals to work, but that one is so not office like. However, I rock the red peep-toe shoes to the office.

I LOVE shoes. ;-D. I'm sure a lot of ladies do. I have a preference for peep-toe shoes. I like the fact that my feet are able to breathe. Oh well, that is all for now folks....... Will be back later with more gists.

Thursday, 3 November 2011


I traveled to Abuja last week Tuesday (25th of Oct) to do omugwo for my sister that just put to bed. I hadn't been to Abuja in seven years. I didn't really plan my journey because I wasn't sure if my leave would be approved or not. If I had been sure of my leave, I could have booked a flight ahead of time and gotten it at a cheap rate. By the time my leave was approved, I checked flight fares and it was high so i decided to travel by road. My sister said Ekene luxurious bus was reliable and I bought my ticket a day before. I arrived at the bus park by 6:00am, the bus took their time to  load and we eventually left by some minutes to 7am. It's been a long time since I traveled in a luxurious bus. My last time was while I was in the university.

 I noticed that the bus was just moving jejeli and I didn't find it funny. Before we got to Ibadan, we had stopped more than three times to check the radiator. Apparently, the radiator was overheating and so we couldn't speed and had to keep stopping at intervals to "cool it". I'm sure the transport company knew that the car wasn't in top shape, and still decided to put it out on the road. This annoyed me because they didn't have regards for human life. As far as I was concerned, they were just interested in collecting their fares and hitting the road. By the time we got to Ekiti at 1pm, the driver parked in what seemed to be a car wash and decided to really "cool the radiator". The air-conditions had long been switched off and the heat was unbearable. Most people were muttering to themselves and saying that they would  never travel with Ekene again. I was too pissed to talk and had resigned myself to arriving at Abuja late. I also kept switching my phone on and off to preserve my battery which was running down. We eventually arrived Abuja at 12:05am. I heaved a sigh of relief and thanked God for a safe trip. I was also very glad to see that my brother-in-law *Osaro was already waiting for me at the park.

I had a pretty busy but brief stay in Abuja. My little nephew is an absolute darling. The guy doesn't cry, well except he is hungry, hot or needs a diaper change which is normal. I have met some babies that just love to cry for no apparent reasons. :-(.  I got to visit the Garki Old Market (had to do some shopping for my sis.). The first thing that struck me about the market was that you had to pay a gate fee (N100) before you can drive in. I had never seen that happen in any Lagos market before. The market was also organized and wasn't as razz as our very own Balogun or Oyingbo markets. Items were a bit more expensive though than in Lagos.

On Saturday, *Osaro decided to take me around a bit en route to the market again. Our first stop was the Grand Square. I had already eaten their bread and loved it and also couldn't wait to taste their famous scoops of ice cream. It was delicious and worth the wait. Then we were off to Yahuza Suya Spot. *Osaro said Yahuza has about 7 of such suya spots in Abuja. This suya spot was organized and very different from the Lagos suya spots I had been to. To place your order here, you walk into the building, chose what you want: chicken, gizzard, kidney, liver, beef, etc. from the menu in front of the cashier, and pay to the cashier. The cashier then inputs your order, prints out a receipt and gives to you. This receipt is what you present to the suya man outside who prepares your order. Interesting and organized if you ask me. The suya was spicy and good. Got me licking my fingers. :-). We also bought some bottles of Fura De Nu Nu for my sister. She is quite adventurous when it comes to food.

Our final stop before dashing to the market was at the Shagalinku Shop. I totally love Shagalinku Yogurt. Its creamy and nutritious. I think it's peculiar to Abuja and some parts of the north. My sister always buys it whenever she is coming to visit us in Lagos. You can bet I did the same. My siblings would not find it funny if i came back without it. I also bought loads of Kilishi. My siblings and colleagues had drummed it into my ears to buy enough for everyone.

All too soon, it was time for me to return to Lagos because my leave was almost over. I had sworn never to use luxurious buses to travel again and so opted for a small bus. *Osaro recommended Eagle Line. The bus left a little bit late because they needed more Lagos bound passengers which were not forthcoming. We made a stop at Lokoja to eat and also scout for more passengers. We eventually got into Lagos at 7pm. The trip was ok and the driver was quite fast.

I miss my nephew so much already. And I'm trying not to think of the fact that I have to resume work on Friday. Happy New Month to you all. May you achieve all you have set out to do in this month of November. In Jesus Name. Amen.  

Monday, 24 October 2011


I am the assistant service co-ordinator in my branch. The service co-ordinator is on maternity leave, so I'm more or less the co-ordinator for now. Some of my responsibilities include ensuring that my colleagues dress appropriately in line with the bank's dresscode, ensuring that prompt and efficient service delivery is given to customers, ensuring that the environment and banking hall is always neat, that customer complaints are handled professionally and the problem solved. You all get the drift abi.

Every thursday morning, we hold a meeting to deliberate on any branch issues, achievements, train ourselves, etc. This meeting is applicable bankwide. Thursdays are not my favourite days because I have to wake up extra early to make it for the meeting. Lateness or absenteeism from the meeting without any cogent reason attracts a sanction. And been the service co-ordinator, I have to set a good example. At the end of the meeting, the secretary: *Laura* sends the minutes to me to edit before I forward same to our service management group. Sounds pretty easy right, WRONGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!

The mere thought of editing the minutes just makes me tired. Once *Laura* sends it to my mail and I open it, it's almost as if the errors in it just pop out chanting *lalalalala, it's time to give you a headache, lalalalala*. :-(. I'm not saying that I'm perfect in English o, but *Laura's* errors make me shudder. Everyone is allowed to make the occassional error now and then, but when it becomes FULL BLOWN AND CONSTANT, then there is a problem.

She writes almost all through in small letters and omits basic punctuations. She just writes long sentences and jumbles everything up. It's difficult to say where one sentence ends and another begins. *phew*. If I wasn't there for the meeting, I would not have any idea of what she typed in the minutes. It gets so bad that I have to reread a sentence over and over again to grasp what she is trying to say. I read sentences like:

 "the poor elimination of the banking hall is very poor and does not befit a banking hall", "you need to volunteer your time by working with an extra time especially when you have pending work to do at your working place", "the link in his office is going on and off due to the foltty pot", "the security men should make sure that all customers who walk into the branch to see any officer should not just be allowed to walk passed them and barge into the staff office without prior information to the staff concern".

 SAY WHATTTTTTT........... Let me spare you all the horror. This is actually just a tip of what I have to edit every week.

Sometimes, my colleagues help me to edit it, but most of the time, they are occupied with their different duties. One day I was gisting with a colleague of mine and he said he attended the same school with *Laura*. Oh, really, I said, so what course did she study? He responded: SECRETARIAL STUDIES. I just smiled and said, that's nice o. But in my mind, I'm saying, you don't say.

 As soon as she sends the minutes to me, she starts to disturb me. *Laura* would see me going to eat and ask, Che, have you seen the minutes I sent to you? I would nod at her and say, Yes I have. I will work on it as soon as I'm less busy. She would see me later in the day and remind me 2 or 3 times again. *insert very tired look*. Madam, I don hear na. I'm trying to psyche myself to edit it. Abi you think say na beans?

Sometimes, I think she knows about the errors she makes. Maybe that is why she constantly reminds me to edit the minutes and help save her face. I feel sorry for her and have often wondered if I should tell her or not. So far, I have decided against it because people can be funny. We are not friends like that, just colleagues. She might take it the wrong way, and I no want wahala. Or what do you guys think?

Saturday, 22 October 2011


My sister *Nneka* gave birth this morning. yaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy *dancing around*. I'm super excited to be an aunty again. We thank God for a safe delivery. Mother, son and father are all doing great. What adds to my excitement sef is that he is the fourth October kid in my family. Yeah, you heard me right. We are four super special, warm and large hearted October children in my family. Lemme break it down for you. I was born on the 9th of October. My sister (the latest mum in town :-)) was born on the 15th. My brother: on the 24th and now my nephew: on the 22nd. Isn't that totally AWESOME.

I remember asking *Nneka* when her expected month of delivery was and she said October, i let out a whoop and danced round my room. I told her that she has to give birth on either of our birthdays. *grins*. I also told her that even if labour starts, she should hold the baby in until it's any of our birthday, then she can drop. :-D.

Sometime last week, she sent me a pix of her preggy tommy via bb chat. I went all ewwwwww, I don't want to see that. I want to see my little nephew. She said she had taken some pictures with her hubby while pregnant, but she didn't have any nice one to send to me. I told her no worries, that they could always go to a studio and take some pretty shots and she could send it later. I woke up this morning and saw her ping that said " no more hubby and me snapping while preggers, because we are on our way to the hospital". I said a word of prayer for her and wished her God's speed and strength. I thank God for His faithfulness in my sister's life. Below is my adorable nephew:

May God protect you. May He cause His face to shine upon you. May you be a source of pride and joy to your family and to the world. May you fulfil your purpose here on earth. May you not shut the womb of your mother. May you grow in the knowledge, wisdom and favour of the Lord. Your name shall be mentioned among the great men in this world. In Jesus Mighty Name. AMENNNNNNNNNN. Nnnnoooooo my darling nephew. *MUAH*

I will be taking my remaining 10 days leave from work next week. I can't wait to get to Abuja to do omugwo. :-D

P.S: I would like to wish everyone born in October a very happy birthday. They are too numerous to mention and I wouldn't like to omit any name. We sure are special people. God bless you all.

Thursday, 20 October 2011

MY FIRST BLOG AWARD *grinning happily*

I received the Versatile Blogger Award from Toinlicious and Jemima and the Stylish and Versatile Blog Award from HoneyDame and I feel so excited because this is my very first award. It means a lot to me to know that people take out time to read what i wrote. It's more amazing because these are people that I don't know but they already feel like family. Thanks a lot dearies *HUGGGSSSSS*.

The rules of the awards are quite simple:

  • Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post.
  • Share 7 things about yourself.
  • Pass this award to 15 recently discovered blogs and let them know about it. 
I have done the first one. Here goes the second rule:

Hmmmmm, what 7 seven things about me should I share? Well, here we go:

1) I love to sing: I sing to myself anytime and anywhere. I learn the lyrics of songs easily and can start to sing along after listening to a song once. I was in the choir in school, but somehow, have not gotten round to joining my church choir.

2) I am a girlie girl. I love to dress up and do the whole matching colors stuff, from jewelry (beads and any kind of jewelry) to eye-shadow, to nail colors, to clothes and even my undies. The whole works. ;-)

3) I love the Lord and try to please Him in all I do. I marvel each day at God's faithfulness in my life.

4) I get irritated at people that ask silly questions: For eg., You see me dressing up and carrying my bag to go out and you ask me if I'm going out. I tell such a person, no, I'm about to go and take my bath. It's obvious  that I'm going out na. *kmt*

5) I have battled pimples and acne on my face since I was in secondary school. I took a lot of fried groundnuts while in secondary school and I guess it contributed to it. I have used all sorts of things, visited dermatologists and heeded to the advise of many. I don tire abeg. Sometimes, it clears and I feel like one very pretty babe. Other times, it just comes all out as if they want to wage a war on my face. I guess I react to somethings. I have stopped using all those different things on my face and try not to let it bother me.

6) I feel hot easily and so do not like been out in the sun. My  friends say it's because I'm used to the air-conditions at home, work and everywhere. Of course that does not mean that I don't go out under the sun. I just get irritated when I'm hot. I tell my siblings that I will have an air-conditon in my kitchen and we would all laugh. 

7) I love to sleep. I no fit shout am enough sef. As in,  I sleep in the bus on my way back from work. If I'm following my colleague, it's better sef, because the air-condition go dey cool my borri. If I'm bored, hungry, angry, happy, sad, anything, and anywhere, I can just sleep. It's crazy. :-D. Surprisingly, I'm not a deep sleeper.

Now to the final part:
I am a newbie on blogsville, but had been following some blogs silently even before I started blogging. These are a few of the blogs I discovered:
I discover new blogs everyday and will be following them too. You all rock. *HUGGGSSSS*

Sunday, 16 October 2011


I love traditional attires. The different types of materials with their colors are so attractive, and the fact that I am able to sew whatever I want with them is simply oh la lacious. I have a lot of them in different trendy styles and rock them whenever an opportunity presents itself. I have however noticed something about most if not all of my traditional wears. The zips on the tops or gowns are sewn in such a way that I always need help with them. Luckily for me, I always have my brother around whenever I have had to wear such traditional attires. He would always grumble and say that he doesn't understand why I can't sew clothes that I can zip by myself. It's either that the top is really fitting and I would need him to help me with the zip, or somehow my hands cannot reach the zip. I always used to laugh and tell him that he should count it as a privilege that he is able to help me: his big sis.

As is the norm with me, I arrange the clothes I want to wear a day before, so that I won't waste time in the morning. I had decided at night that I would wear a mint green french lace long skirt and blouse to church today. I woke up this morning and started preparing for church. I took my time to apply my green eyeshadow to match my attire. I had also laid out my green and cream matching beads on the bed. Only for me to wear the blouse and realised that I couldn't zip it up. Chai, I tried my best, but no way. And being that I was the only one at home, I had to take it off. It was either I looked for something else that had green on it to wear because I couldn't imagine starting the process of making up all over, or I just wear anything even if it doesn't match my green eyeshadow (all of them na fashion na :-) ). And I didn't have a lot of time on my hands because I didn't want to be late for church.

Luckily for me, I saw my green skirt (thankfully, it was clean and ironed) and paired it with a cream short sleeved jacket and hurriedly left for church. I missed out on the praise & worship at the beginning of service, but God had greater things in mind for me. The message today was AWESOME, I needed to hear God speak to me about His GRACE. I re learnt that it's God's Grace and Favour that has kept me and brought me thus far. It became clearer to me that God is never too late. His ways are definitely not our ways. He will show up when He wants to and all the Glory will be to Him alone. I therefore choose to speak forth Favour into my life, my family, my career, business, finances, health, and all that concerns me. I grow in levels of Grace. Where many have tried and failed, therein will I succeed, because I have the Grace and Favour of God at work in me. Hallelujah.

In the middle of service, there was an unexpected anointing service and I also had a glorious time worshiping and extolling the name of the Lord. Indeed, He is worthy of our praise.

I have made a mental note however, not to ever sew my traditional attires in such a way that I cannot zip them myself. It's either the zip is by the side or I don't even know sef.  No be the one I will have a wedding to attend and will have a problem wearing the ashoebi because I will need someone to help me with the zip. ;-D

Hope you all had a wonderful Sunday service.....

Saturday, 15 October 2011


I haven't blogged in a long while and I sincerely apologize for that. I have been so so busy in the office and pretty much occupied over the weekends. I always told myself to write, even if it was just a short post, but i never got around to doing that. Well, that is until now. For the past one month, I have been relieving my Customer Service Officer (CSO) in the office. That desk is FULL. And to worsen matters, I had no real knowledge of the job functions required of me. Let me just take you all back a little. At first, the plan was that I would be the one to relieve her. So everyday when I returned to the main branch from my cash center, I quickly went over to her desk and tried to learn one or two things. It was tedious to say the least because at that time, I am so tired and everyone is in a hurry to close and leave the office. After a while, my boss said that i wouldn't be the one to relieve her, so i jejeli relaxed on the learning and continued my normal job. A few days to when she was to begin her leave, my boss changes his mind and decides that i would be the one to relieve her after all. Na so i picked up my notebook again and resumed the "come back from my cash center and learn thingy".

While on the CSO desk, I constantly need to pad myself with extra doses of patience both for internal customers (my colleagues) and external customers. It's almost as if some customers are sent to try your patience. Once, an elderly man came to make a deposit. After filling his deposit slip, he asked me to confirm the account number on the system to know if it was correct. I checked it and it wasn't correct. I told him. He instantly flared up and said: "I have been paying money into this account almost everyday and to simply  confirm the account number on the system, you cannot. You are a novice, bla bla bla". I was just looking at the man and didn't say a word. Upon checking the text message on his phone, he realised that he wrote a figure wrongly. He corrected it and I confirmed that it was the correct account number and he left. I just shook my head.

For some people, they will enter the bank and forget the account number they want to make the deposit into. Such people walk over to the CSO's desk and ask the officer to check on the system and assist them in getting the account number. It is possible to do that, but it can be difficult especially when the names are common. For instance, a guy walks in and says: "Madam, please help me look for the account number of Mr Adamu Abubakar, he opened his account in this branch", sometimes, they will not know the branch. Helloooooo, there can be a million and one Adamu Abubakar names as account holders in the branch. I no fit abeg, before I give you the wrong Adamu Abubakar's account number and you will say na me give you. I politely explain to such people and tell them to call the owner of the account to re-text his account number.

There is so much to do that some times, I don't get to eat until after the close of work. I remain very grateful to the CSO's in our other branches who would always respond via office chat or calls to rescue me. "massive hugs to you guys". I knew nothing about how to open accounts, issue ATM cards, cheque books and all that.
But, I'm proud to say that i learnt them albeit under a lot of pressure. Sometimes, customers are delayed, especially if there are lots of them that need my attention. I adopt the first come, first served basis and apologize profusely for the delay.

Now on to my colleagues: the marketers. Hmmmm, this ones give me headache almost on a daily basis. I got to see some of them in a whole new light. Before I became the relief CSO, my relationship with them was just there: Hi, Hello, Could you help me check my customer's balance?, things like that. But being on that CSO desk, I have realized that some of them are just not it at all. We all know their major duty is to convince people to open accounts and maintain a relationship with such customers. I know it's tough out there with the competition and all and I appreciate the effort they all put. I would however like to appeal to the marketers out there to do a thorough job on the account opening packages before handing them over to the CSO to open. Help us to do our own jobs ehnnn abeg. We are there to serve these your customers when they come in to transact business with the bank.

I always have issues with two of our marketers. Once I see an account package and either of there names is there as the account officer, my EXTRA CAREFUL antennae goes up. :-). There is always something wrong with the packages they bring in. I always find errors such as the intended account holder not signing in the required places or not filling the spaces on the account opening form where basic things like "date of birth", "occupation", "next of kin" etc are supposed to be. And my dearly beloved marketers will rush and drop the account package for me to quickly open the account. They would always say "Che, please hurry up with this one, the customer needs his account number and cheque book / ATM card immediately". I hear you. Shay i will formulate "date of birth" and "next of kin" for your customers abi. "smh". I have had to call back these same marketers a lot of times to show them the unfilled parts, and remind them that these information are important.

I understand that they are under a lot of pressure to meet their targets and all that. But I am also under a lot of pressure to deliver quality and prompt service to the customers. I have shouted at and argued with these two ladies and they still repeat the same mistakes. "insert tired look". We always make up, but the cycle continues. Mehnnnnnn, I can't wait for the CSO to resume and take over her duties from me, so I can be rid of the marketers.

This past one month on this desk has been very challenging but interesting too. Unlike the Tellering or Cash Officer's or even the Funds Transfer desk where at the end of the day, you know you have closed your books for that day, on the CSO's desk, work no dey finish at all. I learnt to do my best for the day, handle the ones that are top priority and leave the rest for the next day.

P.S: I throway 3 GBOSA's to all the CSO's out there. Una dey try no be small. And I appeal to every bank marketer and even workers out there. Please do your jobs thoroughly to enable your colleagues do their part without too much stress.

P.P.S: Sorry for the long post. I just needed to rant. :-D

Friday, 16 September 2011


I love mints. It just feels good when I want to bring out money from my wallet and it's all crispy new notes. I also like the fresh smell. I understand why a lot of people want it when they come to the bank to withdraw, but some people really crave for it. I once had a boss, "Frank" and whenever he wants to withdraw, he would call on the intercom and say "CD" (the name my Hop gave me), I need to withdraw and I want mints in different denominations. Inform the Head of Operations (Hop) to make it available for me. I always used to laugh when he says this because he knew that we can't print mints if we don't have it in the branch. When I ask him why he always insists on having mints, "Frank" would say it just feels good to have them. I agree with him. Some weeks ago, I was at  home preparing for work when I received a text message. It read:

"Morning Che, last night I dreamt that you were giving out N100 mints. Please come to the office with mints in lower denominations if you have. Cheers, "Felicia". I started laughing while thinking to myself, Chai, na so the mint dey do dem, so tay dem dey dream about me. Ok o. On getting to my cash center, "Felicia" comes to my office and we have the following conversation:
"Felicia": Babe, morning. How far? Did you receive my text?
Me: Yep, but pele, we don't have mints now.
"Felicia": *Insert sad face*, Ahhhhhhh, i really needed to use it this weekend o ehnnn.

Sorry  to disappoint you dear, but maybe when next you dream about mints, somehow we would have it. :-)

We had a customer in my former branch that just loved to be identified with the bank. "Oga Cosmas" could walk into our branch 20 times in a day (not exaggerating) to transact business. That was fine by us. What used to annoy me was that whenever he comes, he would always ask for the date and his account balance. Donning on his sunglasses and feeling like one nna man with loads of Igbo swagger (I am Igbo o, so i'm not hating :-)), "Oga Cosmas" would approach my cubicle and say "Sister, please check my balance (in a gruff Igbo business man voice). After I check his balance, if he wants to withdraw, he would ask "What is today's date?" And after paying him, he would ask for his balance again. *Insert tired face*, please my people, what is the essence of the debit and credit alerts you receive on your phone? What is the essence of having an account officer ehnnnn? It didn't help matters that his office was two buildings away. So he could just stroll in and out of the branch. At some point, I told my Hop that we would get "Oga Cosmas" a portable talking calendar as part of his christmas present from the branch, so he could always hear what the date was.

"Oga Nduka" feels like he is the landlord of my cash center. His transactions are mostly carried out there and i don't have a problem with that. But what irks me is the way he shouts when talking. He is an agent and in a way, I think it comes with their job. You need to hear him when he is on the phone or even talking to the young men that work for him. I always cringe and feel sorry for them. "Nna, how far with my container, has it landed? Emeka, go and sort out the assessment fees with the custom people. Don't you know that delay is dangerous and we are accumulating dummorage. Have you gone through the consignment that just came in to be sure everything is intact?" It's even worse when he is gisting with his friends. It seems to me as if they are in a competition to know whose voice is the loudest. More often than not, I give the award of the loudest voice to "Oga Nduka". I also feel for his heart and other vital organs, because I feel he strains them when he shouts all the time. He needs to understand that life is not all about hustling and making money. One also needs to learn to relax and stay alive to enjoy the money. Of recent though, he seldom stays in my cash center, so I now have some peace and quiet.

I don't appreciate when customers walk up to me in the banking hall and start to speak Igbo or Yoruba. I just don't get it at all. When did any language apart from English become the official corporate language. Whenever any customer speaks any other language other than English to me, I just keep a straight face and allow him or her to finish  and i will say, I'm sorry, but i didn't understand what you just said. Of course I do understand Igbo, but people shouldn't go assuming that everyone does. Most times, the customer will then ask, Ooo, so where are you from? And with a sweet smile on my face, I would say I'm Hausa. My ID card is not always visible, so the customer won't be able to verify. But I'm sure they would just know that I am kidding. There was a time an elderly woman came for money transfer transaction. On realizing that the money was not yet reflecting in our system, she started speaking Yoruba to me. I had to use sign language to explain to her that I don't understand Yoruba and referred her to another colleague.

That reminds me of another yarn. Why do people abroad send money to their aged parents using the parents name? Why not just send the money in the name of a sibling or relation who will then deliver it to Mama or Papa. I always feel sorry for the elderly people when they stress themselves to come to the bank. I guess the children or relations cannot be trusted to give the full amount of money to the aged beneficiaries.

Enough for now, the post is getting too long. I will be back later with more gist. :-)

Friday, 9 September 2011


As is the norm with me, when I closed from my cash center at Kirikiri, I boarded my dispatch man's bike and we left for the main branch in Apapa. Thankfully, my route was free to an extent until we got to Tincan. We were following a Keke Napep behind when we saw an oncoming trailer loaded with two containers. It was a normal sight for me so there was no cause for alarm. The driver of the Keke however decided to misbehave.

Maybe it was the fear of the oncoming trailer's size compared to his tuke tuke that made him unsure of his lane. Instead of him to focus and continue on his lane, he was heading straight for the trailer. The driver of the trailer while moving forward, started to sway from side to side. This was all in a bid to avoid the Keke and other vehicles following it. The containers on the trailer were also shaking (most of the time, these containers are not properly hinged on the trailers and that is why they sometimes fall off ).

We were getting close to the trailer and since there was no way to manouever around it, the dispatch man said: "Ahh, e be like say we go jump comot for road o since this trailer and keke dey act drama for here". When we were almost close to the trailer, we did some Jackie Chan moves and  jumped off the okada to the other side of the road. Thank God the other side of the road was deserted. I don't even want to think of what could have happend if there were moving vehicles on the other side of the road. Thank God also that I was wearing a pair of trouser suit. I for hear am if I was wearing one of my sisi like straight skirts.

I don't know where the speed came from to move that fast and whenever I recount the incident, I always tell people, that I must have been carried by an angel to the other side of the road because the distance was much. There was a tear on my jacket and my bag, but I wasn't injured, just a slight bruise on my knee. My dispatch man was also ok.

The Keke swerved and the driver and his passengers also jumped out to avoid been hit by the trailer. The trailer hit our now empty bike down and screeched to a halt. To say I was in shock would be an understatement. Some passersby and passengers in the cars behind us quickly ran towards us to know if there were any casualities and also to render help. Shouts of praises to God could be heard all around us because there was no fatality.

 We were helped up, I dusted myself and tried to steady my nerves. I had never been so scared in my life as I was that day especially because of all the gist I have heard about accidents caused by trailers and some I had seen. After a while, when I was more composed, I got a ride to complete the last lap to my office. My dispatch man chose to continue the trip to the branch on his bike since it was ok.

I have always known to be grateful to God for life, but that day, I was reminded that life is fleeting and everyday is a precious gift to be savored. As I go through my day's activities, or whenever I go out and come back home, I thank God for His protection, mercies, faithfulness, love and so much more.

Wednesday, 31 August 2011


There had been rumors going round in my bank about a promotion list coming out. I had heard it for so long that I even got tired of waiting for the list to come out. Last week Friday, the much awaited list finally came out and it was sent to everyone. Management was cunning and sent it after most people had gone home. I was at home when my colleague started chatting with me to tell me that he heard the list was out. I was excited and asked if anyone in our branch was promoted. He said he and our former Head of Operations  were the only ones he had heard about. I was doubly excited because these two were my friends and they deserved it.

I could just imagine the anxiety in the minds of most of my colleagues as they wondered if they were promoted. I wondered if I was too, but decided not to bother my pretty head too much. My weekend was busy, one activity after the other, so there was no time for me to dwell on the promotion list. It was finally Monday morning, and off to work again. As soon as I entered my office, I noticed that almost everyone was sober or had a plastic forced smile on.

Their eyes were all glued on their systems as if they were doing some serious work. A glance here and there, and I realized that everyone was going through the promotion list to know who got promoted and who didn't. I jejeli went to an empty cubicle to finish up my make-up. While doing that, I noticed that the TV was not yet on. That was strange to me because I have a colleague that is a CNN addict and he would always ensure that the TV is switched on as soon as he gets to the office. He is really passionate about politics. A quick glance towards his seat to know if he had gotten to the office and I noticed that he too like the others was solemnly going through the promotion list. I chuckled to myself.

I wasn't promoted, even though I prayed and hoped I would be, but hey, life is still beautiful. I feel kind of sad about it especially because I have been in the same grade for three years now, so I understand how some of my colleagues feel. Over the next few days, I heard of how some of my colleagues in their anger blamed the MD for not promoting more people, and also swore at them for discarding half of the names on the promotion list. Many people seem to have lost the passion to do their work and comments like "abeg, i wasn't promoted, so don't stress me too much with this work" was made every now and then.

I feel their anger and pain, and like I told some of my friends, this is one of those wake up calls. People should better dust their CV's, rearrange them and start applying for other jobs (that is if they have not been doing that already). I rejoice with all those that were promoted and I believe that better things are on the way for me.

Friday, 26 August 2011


I am constantly in a dilemma on what to wear to work. Well, except on Mondays and Fridays which the bank has helped me sort out by way of a dress code. On Mondays, its either navy blue or black suit on white and on Fridays, we wear the bank's tee shirt on a pair of jeans. It should be easy to figure out what to wear in the remaining three days right, WRONG.

I come home from work and open my wardrobe widely while I sort out other things. The idea is that once in a while, when I glance towards that direction, I will get an inspiration on what to wear. Most times however, nothing comes to mind, so when I start feeling sleepy, I go and stand in front of my clothes chanting: "What to wear", "What to wear" like a crazy girl. My siblings just look at me, shake their heads and laugh. After trying on different combinations, I finally decide on what to wear and by this time, I'm half asleep.

I envy people that can wear practically anything to work. Banks that allow their staff to wear any colors and styles are cool too. My bank dey try sha, but it still feels so restricted. :-(. Maybe it's because I'm tired of recycling the clothes I can wear and wish I could just wear anything as long as it looks formal. I have heard of some banks that have dress codes for their staff for each day. Mondays- black and white, Tuesdays- blue and white, Wednesdays- black and white, Thursdays- blue and white. Abeggiiii, na primary school dem dey? Even primary schools sef have colorful school uniforms. I also hear of banks that don't allow their female staff to wear peep-toe shoes, only fully covered work shoes. Na wa o.

Why not allow us to express our creativity in our clothes and footwear as long as they are formal, decent and we represent the bank well.

Thursday, 25 August 2011

It All Belongs To You - Damita Haddon

I heard a song at work yesterday and it blew my mind. It has since been on repeat on my phone and my work system. The song reminded me that everything belongs to God and I should just let Him have it. My will, emotions, the stress, thoughts, life, ALL belongs to God. Everything Lord, I surrender it over to you. I decided to share it on my blog to bless someone.

Saturday, 20 August 2011


Okadas constitute part of my transportation to and from work, and I have learnt to be wise in choosing the ones I enter. I prefer mature looking bike men that I feel have a sense of responsibility and drive carefully. One Monday morning, I was rushing off to work because I overslept; no thanks to the chilly weather. It was difficult to see a bike going towards my route, so you can imagine how glad I was when I eventually got one and it was also driven by an elderly man.

We took off and about 10 mins later, we were flagged down by some policemen. Our offence: "Passenger not wearing a helmet'. What annoyed me was that I had asked the okada driver to give me the helmet to wear as soon as I boarded his bike. He refused to answer me. It's not as if I enjoy wearing the helmet but I just didn't want to be delayed unnecessarily by policemen. The following conversation ensued between the policemen and the okada driver:

Policeman: Baba, why is your passenger not wearing helmet?

Baba: My brother dey work with una

Policeman: Ehnnnnn, wetin you talk? So because your brother dey work with us, you think say you go just disobey law like that. Even if your brother na Goodluck sef. mschewwww. Oya clear well and park your okada.

Chai, I didn't believe the okada man was silly enough to say that. Didn't he realize that if he had apologized to the policemen (because he was obviously wrong) and probably greased their palms with some change (I'm not in support of bribery o), they would have let him go.

All this while, I was still sitting on the okada and looking at my wristwatch ticking away. When he was told to "clear well and park", I didn't need anyone to tell me to find my way. Thankfully, I got another okada close by and continued my trip to the office. And i still made it to work on time. The scene that just played out got me thinking though: Why do Nigerians like doing the wrong things? Instances of doing the wrong things include:

Pedestrians crossing the express right under the pedestrian bridge. I will never understand this. If I ever have to cross an express, I look out for any pedestrian bridge close by, because I don't like the idea of running across the road and wondering how close a car or okada is. I once saw a mother with her child strapped on her back and carrying a bag of goodies, running as fast as she could under Cele pedestrian bridge. I wondered to myself, what if one of those fast and furious bus drivers knocks her down? Sympathizers will gather and blame the driver. Forgetting that the woman should have just used the bridge right overhead.

Not obeying traffic lights: I know most of the time, we are in a hurry to get to our destinations, especially in Lagos. But traffic lights were put in place to ensure order on the roads and also prevent accidents. Yet, some of us will look around and if there are no LASTMA officials where traffic lights are, we zoom past.

Not wearing helmets while on bikes: I am sometimes guilty of this. I agree that most of us will not want to wear the helmets because it is dirty and sometimes wet; but there is a law in place and it is for our own good that we obey it. We could mimic some people and put a handkerchief on our head before wearing the helmet, as long as we wear it.

It pays to do things right. It saves us from unnecessary wahala

Friday, 19 August 2011


I work in a cash center in Kirikiri and because of the terrible traffic along my route, I prefer to follow my dispatch man on his bike back to my main branch in Apapa. One sunny day, we took off as usual, both of us wearing our huge sunglasses. There I was, enjoying the scenery and taking in the fumes from the tankers and trailers, when a bike carrying a fine guy passed us. We were stuck in traffic for a while, but it eventually eased up a little and bikes could move on. The bike with the fine guy moved on and we followed. Suddenly, a bus driver on our right side opened his driver's door without looking in the mirror and hit the bike carrying the fine guy down right in front of a trailer loaded with two containers. Thank God for everyone that screamed. Thank God the trailer had a functional brake. Thank God for the driver of the trailer that was level headed and sharp. He stepped on the brake and stopped immediately.

The okada man and fine guy got up immediately and moved to the sidewalk. The fine guy jumped the crossing that demarcates both lanes of the road, quickly crossed to the other side of the road and continued walking as if nothing had happened. It was a bit comical to me, but I am sure the guy was still in shock and couldn't believe what he just went through. God must have been on the lookout for him that day. My dispatch guy and I continued our journey whilst giving thanks to God for the near fatal accident that was averted. I don't know what happened to the bus driver. He must have received a lot of abuses from people around, but hopefully no beating. I wondered to myself what he opened his door to do at that instance. Did he want to urinate in the broad daylight in the middle of the road? Did he want to see how far the traffic was and maybe develop wings for his bus? Whatever his reason was, that was a wrong move he made. It could have been me knocked down right in front of that trailer, because I was directly behind the fine guy. Thank God for His mercies.

Thursday, 18 August 2011


I have always hated mornings for as long as I can remember. No, let me rephrase it, mornings when i have to wake up early are such a drag for me. At night, I put a kettle of water on the cooker before going to bed. When my alarm goes off in the morning, I grudgingly get out of bed, turn on the nob of the cooker and quickly crawl back into bed for a few extra minutes of sleep. It's a wonder that I make it to the office on time (well most of the time). I stay in Surulere and work in Apapa and I always give thanks to God that I don't work on the Island. Friends that work there say, after a while, you will get used to waking up very early to beat the traffic. Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I still haven't even gotten used to waking up and leaving for work at 7am.

I have joked about my wedding being in the evening so I can enjoy my morning sleep and also because I do not like the sun. I have often wondered how I'm going to cope when I get married and start having kids. Guess I will cross that bridge when I get there and maybe then, I will get used to it by force, by fire, because I will have more responsibilities.

I hear people say that they have gotten so used to waking up early even on weekends, and they no longer need their alarms. I hail such people o. I watched a commercial once on Dstv about a singing alarm on wheels. When it goes off, it rolls to an obscure part of your room while still singing. You will be forced to wake up and search for it before you can turn it off. Hmmmm, maybe this is the kind of alarm clock I need, that is if I don't smash it against the wall one day.

I get so excited as Fridays approach. When I say TGIF, it's not because I have any wonderful things to do over the weekend. Nope, no weddings or outings. I'm just super excited that I get to sleep in for as late as I want to and without an alarm going off and disrupting my lovely sleep.

Tuesday, 16 August 2011


I dedicate this blog to my mum. She was one of the people I used to gist about my escapades at work. I couldn't wait to get home each day to tell her about any major events that occurred at work. She would say things like "Chukwu agaghi ekwe ka ihe obuna mey gi" (God will not let any evil befall you).
Mum, exactly today, two years ago, you went to be with the Lord because you needed to rest. We all miss your extra large heart and super woman strength, but it warms my heart to know you are in a better place. I know you are grooving and smiling down on us as we make progress in life. I celebrate today and always, the beautiful life you lived.
Love you loads Mum. Muaaahhhhhhhh.