Away from the Office spam mail, there's a characteristic amongst most employees that brings about Acute Shakara, which is normally stressed induced. Allow me to explain:
Ever been in the situation that has affected your job due to either incompetence, bureaucracy or Murphy's Law, and you just want to unleash your anger and frustration? (and to think you expressed on your CV that you can work under pressure! Shame on you!!) I've been in situations like that and I've had to take a 5 minute break or longer, depending on the severity of the situation, just to calm down and regroup my potential actions. I'm sure there are millions of employees/employers that use the same technique. God forbid that you find yourself in a situation where a disgruntled employee goes 'postal'.
And then there is shakara shouting. We've seen the type: A person literally turning all the colours of the rainbow with undiluted rage due to some mix up or other. And with the rage comes the shouting peppered with profanity: " BEEPing BEEPser!! When I see that BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP punk, I'm going to ram the phone down his BEEPity BEEP!!" Oh, the language can be quite colourful. However, such threats never take place. No sooner has said description ended, the phone rings with said potential victim on the other end of the line, and you being all nice, all for the sake of saving your P45 and not actually committing GBH. Besides, that kind of stress can't be good for the heart. If you would like to dare your heart's strength, then may I strongly suggest that your company has an up to date and charged defibrillator. If your company cannot afford said equipment, then make damn sure someone knows CPR. So, technically, all that shouting was just shakara. And in case you're wondering what shakara means, it's a pidgin term to describe a person who puts up so much bravado and threats and never carries it out.
Such a scenario does bring about an intresting question: why let certain instances at work stress you to the verge of breaking point? Don't get me wrong: it's nice to be dedicated to your job. If anything, pressure to a certain degree is healthy, unless you work for the bomb squad. Now that's pressure. However, I'm sure they have a better Insurance scheme than most employers.
So, instead of shakara shouting and stressing yourself, here are a couple of tips to circumnavigate certain situations at work:
For every 60 seconds your angry, you lose a minute of happiness: A contradiction some might say, considering many people are'nt happy at work, but why give anger more satisfaction?
How much will you make from your retirement plan and will it equate in worth for all the stress? : Well, self explanatory, that. Besides, at the end, for services rendered, you''ll probably get a bottle of 'bubbly' (sucks if you're teetotal) or a bouquet of flowers.
Pray: Most of the time, the name of the Lord is taken in vain while your swearing to the high heavens, and for me that is a clear indication that you believe in God. So, why not pray for some patience or a solution to the problem?
Take a break (Read second paragraph above) And no, not a a ciggie break. That's just adding more stress to your lungs. I suggest that your HR deptartment invest in Ak-ism's 'Relaxzz Room' ™. (You can vent your frustrations in the room by attacking a dummy that represents the stress you're going through. Call now 555-VENT IT™for an information pack, and you'll also get a free copy of Catch 22! )
If all of the above does'nt work for you, then blame it on the guy who can't speak English.
Nuff said!
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Office Culture Part Uno: Office Spam Mail...
Can anyone PLEASE explain to me the logic of work colleagues sending out global on-site emails to everyone announcing, that after X, Y & Z number of years with the company, they are now moving on? What's up with that? At least once every week this kind of email finds its way into my inbox. It's as bad as spam mail. Come to think of it, it is spam mail. First off, I have no idea who you are, and why you would be informing me that you're leaving the company is beyond me. If I knew who you are, and I either had a healthy working relationship with you, or were good friends, then I'm sure you'd give me the heads up. Or maybe the sinister reasoning for sending out global mails is that more people that know of your impending departure, the more contributions would go into your Leaving Present fund. I have news for you: If I don't know you, I'm not contributing! Oh! You think I'm stingy? I've know many people throughout my working career that they make Ebenezer Scrooge seem like Mother Theresa.
Other recipients of said mail would have nothing but disdain and thoughts of "I bet that smarty pants is off to a better job with better pay, while I'm stuck in this Gulag. "Arbeit macht frei" indeed! " Point to note, though: Not everything is as rosy as it seems in life. Then again, it just might be rosier..
Another gripe I have with mass mails at work are the "It's my birthday, come and partake of the goodness of cakes I've bought" mailouts. Hey, if you want to share the wealth, go for it. But if you're trying to score brownie points with me, that's not going to happen, especially if I know that you're the same person continually going out off your way to undermine my job by not complying with certain technicalities of the job. (And you definately know WHO YOU ARE!)
Here's one that really cracks me up. Picture the scene, if you will: A colleague on maternity leave, delivers a healthy child (all together now: "ahhhhhh!"), and after a couple of months recuperation, sends a global email to everyone at work to announce that she is coming in with the child for everyone to 'goo-goo, gaa-gaa!' over. Personally, I don't see any reason why you'd want to bring the child into an office environment at that age. He or she will eventually get to know the four corners of a cubicle and office beauracracy, so why traumatise the child now? The worst thing is that those who come over to congratulate you in the office with your new child, are the ones who, with Machiavellian tendencies, have been plotting ways of ousting you since you sent that global email.
So, if you are a continual offender of sending out global emails, (which are all not bad, truth be told. Some are informative and enlightning. Hah!!) just say no!
Other recipients of said mail would have nothing but disdain and thoughts of "I bet that smarty pants is off to a better job with better pay, while I'm stuck in this Gulag. "Arbeit macht frei" indeed! " Point to note, though: Not everything is as rosy as it seems in life. Then again, it just might be rosier..
Another gripe I have with mass mails at work are the "It's my birthday, come and partake of the goodness of cakes I've bought" mailouts. Hey, if you want to share the wealth, go for it. But if you're trying to score brownie points with me, that's not going to happen, especially if I know that you're the same person continually going out off your way to undermine my job by not complying with certain technicalities of the job. (And you definately know WHO YOU ARE!)
Here's one that really cracks me up. Picture the scene, if you will: A colleague on maternity leave, delivers a healthy child (all together now: "ahhhhhh!"), and after a couple of months recuperation, sends a global email to everyone at work to announce that she is coming in with the child for everyone to 'goo-goo, gaa-gaa!' over. Personally, I don't see any reason why you'd want to bring the child into an office environment at that age. He or she will eventually get to know the four corners of a cubicle and office beauracracy, so why traumatise the child now? The worst thing is that those who come over to congratulate you in the office with your new child, are the ones who, with Machiavellian tendencies, have been plotting ways of ousting you since you sent that global email.
So, if you are a continual offender of sending out global emails, (which are all not bad, truth be told. Some are informative and enlightning. Hah!!) just say no!
Saturday, March 25, 2006
"I want my mummy!!" - A dedication on Mother's Day
It's Mother's Day, (why should it have to be one day??) and we recognise and appreciate all the love, kindness, discipline, hard work, investment and other numerous sacrifices that she continually makes for us. (For going through child labour alone, well that alone needs a special day of recognition!)
Today, many kids and husbands will be buying flowers, chocolates, or taking mum out, or pampering her: anything to pamper mum as a sign of appreciation. Why? (What do you mean, "why?" don't you have a mother??) Well, because she deserves it!
There will be others today just going through the motion, but there will be no love. Sure, they might give her the most expensive gift, or finally get to see her after all these years, or even just pop around for Sunday lunch to celebrate Mother's Day. It wouldn't make any difference. It's because the role of mother to them was just only that of title, not of any real meaningful relationship or bond, and that comes from love.
Remember your school days, and you might have the misfortune in getting in a fight behind the bike shed after school hours, especially if you're a guy? (It's an Alpha male thing, that. It's also one of the reasons we have wars, inspite of politico-Socio-economical reasons!!) There was always a warm-up match of 'cussing' and put downs, and such. Nothing was sacred. Except one thing: Mother. You do not, under any circumstance, bring a person's mum into the fight. You put down a mum, and it's on!! What could have just been bravado at the start could escalate to a real, bloody and messy punch up. All because you insulted one's mother. (And no, its not an Oedipus thing!)
Anyway, today's blog is in homage to my mum. The best (and then some!) that any child would wish for. She is unique, but then again, most of you would say that about your mum.
They say you never really appreciate a person until they have either left you or stood up for you. Well, my mother rose to the occassion back in the early 80's in Nigeria. We were were attacked by armed robbers that terrorised the neighbourhood during that period. The robbers were so brazen they would call the police up in advance to warn them not to patrol the area that night while they were having their 'operation'. Anyway, the robbers did their thing, stealing everything and anything, and what not. Then one of the robbers, a hideous excuse for a man, grabbed my wrist and said he was going to take me away. My mother, calm and composed, stared him down and said no. Now the thing is, you don't argue with an armed robber who can do whatever he wants to do. I guess my mother's defiance startled the robber. "How about this one?", referring to my younger brother. "You can take whatever you want, but you will not take any of my children!" My mother was not hysterical. I can remember the look in her eyes, and the robber backed off. I know that God intervened that day, and He gave my mother courage that to this day I have always admired.
How about discipline? Well, my mum was and still is an expert. She rarely used her hand against us, but her form of punishment was more psychological than physical, and it worked. There were times that you'd wish she'd beat you rather than psychologically fandango your head. You got out off line, and you will be 'psy'd'. There was this time that I 'liberated' a tin of Bournvita from that was 'securely' locked in her room. Of course, she knew that I had commited the crime, and she wasn't going to "tell your Father when he come's home" malarkey! No, my mother, bless her, had more finess than that. She was going to make point to go to my school, tell my headmistress what I had done, and then make sure that my misdemeanour was announced to the whole school during assembly. This was no idle threat, and I knowing what my mother is capable of doing, I was not going to call her bluff. I don't think I have ever cried that much pleading with my mum to forgive me. It put the fear of God into me, and then some!
When it came to sense of humour, my mother had tons of it, and she's always up for a laugh. We used to play pranks with other members of the family, play ludo, hi-five each other in public, and just chat and talk. She's more than a mother: a confidant, a friend, and a mother!
So, here's to you, mum. With love from all your kids. God bless.
Today, many kids and husbands will be buying flowers, chocolates, or taking mum out, or pampering her: anything to pamper mum as a sign of appreciation. Why? (What do you mean, "why?" don't you have a mother??) Well, because she deserves it!
There will be others today just going through the motion, but there will be no love. Sure, they might give her the most expensive gift, or finally get to see her after all these years, or even just pop around for Sunday lunch to celebrate Mother's Day. It wouldn't make any difference. It's because the role of mother to them was just only that of title, not of any real meaningful relationship or bond, and that comes from love.
Remember your school days, and you might have the misfortune in getting in a fight behind the bike shed after school hours, especially if you're a guy? (It's an Alpha male thing, that. It's also one of the reasons we have wars, inspite of politico-Socio-economical reasons!!) There was always a warm-up match of 'cussing' and put downs, and such. Nothing was sacred. Except one thing: Mother. You do not, under any circumstance, bring a person's mum into the fight. You put down a mum, and it's on!! What could have just been bravado at the start could escalate to a real, bloody and messy punch up. All because you insulted one's mother. (And no, its not an Oedipus thing!)
Anyway, today's blog is in homage to my mum. The best (and then some!) that any child would wish for. She is unique, but then again, most of you would say that about your mum.
They say you never really appreciate a person until they have either left you or stood up for you. Well, my mother rose to the occassion back in the early 80's in Nigeria. We were were attacked by armed robbers that terrorised the neighbourhood during that period. The robbers were so brazen they would call the police up in advance to warn them not to patrol the area that night while they were having their 'operation'. Anyway, the robbers did their thing, stealing everything and anything, and what not. Then one of the robbers, a hideous excuse for a man, grabbed my wrist and said he was going to take me away. My mother, calm and composed, stared him down and said no. Now the thing is, you don't argue with an armed robber who can do whatever he wants to do. I guess my mother's defiance startled the robber. "How about this one?", referring to my younger brother. "You can take whatever you want, but you will not take any of my children!" My mother was not hysterical. I can remember the look in her eyes, and the robber backed off. I know that God intervened that day, and He gave my mother courage that to this day I have always admired.
How about discipline? Well, my mum was and still is an expert. She rarely used her hand against us, but her form of punishment was more psychological than physical, and it worked. There were times that you'd wish she'd beat you rather than psychologically fandango your head. You got out off line, and you will be 'psy'd'. There was this time that I 'liberated' a tin of Bournvita from that was 'securely' locked in her room. Of course, she knew that I had commited the crime, and she wasn't going to "tell your Father when he come's home" malarkey! No, my mother, bless her, had more finess than that. She was going to make point to go to my school, tell my headmistress what I had done, and then make sure that my misdemeanour was announced to the whole school during assembly. This was no idle threat, and I knowing what my mother is capable of doing, I was not going to call her bluff. I don't think I have ever cried that much pleading with my mum to forgive me. It put the fear of God into me, and then some!
When it came to sense of humour, my mother had tons of it, and she's always up for a laugh. We used to play pranks with other members of the family, play ludo, hi-five each other in public, and just chat and talk. She's more than a mother: a confidant, a friend, and a mother!
So, here's to you, mum. With love from all your kids. God bless.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Ak's Guide to Urban Sharing: View 99
Ever have the feeling that getting on the train is like riding on the school bus? Not that I ever used our 'School Bus No2' back then, but I have an idea of what it would be like. Anyway, you get on the train, and you scan the carriage for a spare set. You zero in on one and make a beeline for it. While burrowing your way through other passengers who are blocking your path to sitting your derriere comfortably, you hear the inevitable 'Tutting' (Ak's Definition: tutting is a unique way of verbalising your feelings without saying anything, but saying everything, and concluding it with eyeballs rolling! Initially, I used to think it was an English thing, but now anyone who lives in London long enough does it!! )
You finally make your way to the seat, which is still amazingly vacant. You're just about to sit down, and immediately feel the gaze of the passenger opposite or by your side already seated. We've all encountered that look. It's that gaze of "How dare you sit next to me?" Some people would intimidate by either cranking up the volume on their ipod, or put their feet up. Others have even gone further by just dumping their bag or books on the seat. And when you finally claim the sit as yours for the ride, said passengers will look you up and down and 'tut'.
Or that one time I had a severe coughing fit on the train. For no apparent reason, it just kicked off. Unfortunately I had nothing to drink with me. This 'bro' had a bottle of water and just sat there looking while it seemed i was literally chocking to death. Maybe it was a calculated move on his part, but for good measure, he takes a long swig at his bottle, and then turns away, just like everyone else. Well, nearly. A pregnant woman came up to me with her half full bottle of water and said, "I reckon you'd need this more than I do at the moment!". Kindness like that, Priceless.
Can you imagine a world where everyone all over the world, just for one hour, extended some kindness to one another? Just one hour...
You finally make your way to the seat, which is still amazingly vacant. You're just about to sit down, and immediately feel the gaze of the passenger opposite or by your side already seated. We've all encountered that look. It's that gaze of "How dare you sit next to me?" Some people would intimidate by either cranking up the volume on their ipod, or put their feet up. Others have even gone further by just dumping their bag or books on the seat. And when you finally claim the sit as yours for the ride, said passengers will look you up and down and 'tut'.
Or that one time I had a severe coughing fit on the train. For no apparent reason, it just kicked off. Unfortunately I had nothing to drink with me. This 'bro' had a bottle of water and just sat there looking while it seemed i was literally chocking to death. Maybe it was a calculated move on his part, but for good measure, he takes a long swig at his bottle, and then turns away, just like everyone else. Well, nearly. A pregnant woman came up to me with her half full bottle of water and said, "I reckon you'd need this more than I do at the moment!". Kindness like that, Priceless.
Can you imagine a world where everyone all over the world, just for one hour, extended some kindness to one another? Just one hour...
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
The Death of Please & Thank you...
Showing appreciation is becoming a habit of the past. When was the last time (That's if you believe in the Good Lord!) did you wake up and give thanks for being alive and praising God for big and small mercies? I'm guilty of this. Sometimes I wake up in such a hurry to get into work, that being thankful for being alive and in good health and other graces just doesn't come to mind.
That's too spiritual for you? Ok, let's go mortal: when was the last time you said a thank you and meant it? Just saying 'Thank You' or 'Please' is as Alien to many as knowing what Aurora Borealis is. I guess we live in times where people are of the 'Gimme, gimme, gimme species!'
I work within an industry where schmucks feel they have a God Given right to get what they want without using the magic password: PLEASE. They EXPECT that you deal with their requests immediately, because "We are going to press, and this needs to be done.. yesterday!" Don't get me wrong, I'm not expecting a medal or something like, but its just the principle. Think about it: all it takes is for you to apply saliva to your mouth, place your tongue between to accentuate the "TH" and click the "K", and your half way there in creating the perfect verbal"Thank You." The same method can be applied when saying 'Please', only without using the 'TH' technique.
Many would argue that saying 'please' or 'thank you' is as bad as sucking up. I don't believe so. When you show your appreciation to someone who has helped you, not only have you made that person feel good about what he or she has done for you, but that person will go out of their way of helping you again in the future. The concept of thank you and please should work on the basis that there are no strings attached.
I'm not here to moralise or such, but saying thanks can go a long way. So, if you haven't said a 'please' or 'thanks' to someone who did a job or deserved it, what are you waiting for? If you need more help on this topic, then dial 555-SAYPLEASE.
That's too spiritual for you? Ok, let's go mortal: when was the last time you said a thank you and meant it? Just saying 'Thank You' or 'Please' is as Alien to many as knowing what Aurora Borealis is. I guess we live in times where people are of the 'Gimme, gimme, gimme species!'
I work within an industry where schmucks feel they have a God Given right to get what they want without using the magic password: PLEASE. They EXPECT that you deal with their requests immediately, because "We are going to press, and this needs to be done.. yesterday!" Don't get me wrong, I'm not expecting a medal or something like, but its just the principle. Think about it: all it takes is for you to apply saliva to your mouth, place your tongue between to accentuate the "TH" and click the "K", and your half way there in creating the perfect verbal"Thank You." The same method can be applied when saying 'Please', only without using the 'TH' technique.
Many would argue that saying 'please' or 'thank you' is as bad as sucking up. I don't believe so. When you show your appreciation to someone who has helped you, not only have you made that person feel good about what he or she has done for you, but that person will go out of their way of helping you again in the future. The concept of thank you and please should work on the basis that there are no strings attached.
I'm not here to moralise or such, but saying thanks can go a long way. So, if you haven't said a 'please' or 'thanks' to someone who did a job or deserved it, what are you waiting for? If you need more help on this topic, then dial 555-SAYPLEASE.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
"So You want to Know: How to haggle, Ak style"
Can you imagine haggling within the UK? Picture the scene, if you will: You walk into a shop that is selling a product that you want bad, and it so happens to be the last one in stock. You check your finances and realise that you have even less than the retail price to make any payments. "Damn! How do I get this item??" you begin to ponder. Then it dawns on you: being a native from a suppossedly 'less economically developed nation' (if that is the case), you feel you have certain transferrable skills that are applicable in acquiring goods and services, and that skill is the art of haggling.
So, there you are, holding the item and you make your way to the Payment Counter, with that determined look that you'll be leaving the shop with said product in toll. The Cashier offers the obligatory smile and tallys up the cash register and repeats the amount on the tag, as is clearly labelled £750 excluding VAT. The transaction begins:
You:"Ummmm.. wouldn't you say that this item is a bit expensive??"
Customer Service Assistant: (Trying to hurry you up since her shift ended 5 mins ago) "I guess so.. will you be paying by card?"
You: "Not really.. I think this price is a bit over the top. How about I pay £100?"
CSA:"Excuse me?"
You:"Ok, £100 is asking too much. What say I up it to £170, and that's my final offer!"
CSA: (Clearly irate, but composing herself because The Customer is Always Right ) "Sir, all the items are of a fixed price that has been set by the company!"
You: "Ahh-ahh!! If I check the other shops, I'm sure that I can get a good deal!"
CSA: (What does she care what you do next?! With the kind of money she makes doing this job, it's not worth doing the over time!!) "Sir, will you be purchasing the item or not??"
You: (leaning in closer to the counter, thus begining to worry the CSA) "Look, here's the deal: I want to bargain a good deal, and I don't plan to leave until I get what I want! I will pay £300 and that's my last-LAST offer!"
With a line like that, you've only just set yourself up for the CSA to trigger the silent alarm, and before you know it her Line Manager has arrived with security.
Haggling is the subtle/dramatic/diplomatic art of negotiating for a product at a price which you can afford, since you feel and know that the original price is over inflated.
Haggling only works in the UK or some other 'advanced nations' within certain parametres, and its not always the case. That's why I love going home to Nigeria, or any other country that appreciates the concept of haggling. Tried bargaining in Nigeria? It's a rush. It help's if you can speak or know some of the dialect or better still, your mannerism doesn't reflect that of a tourist, but of veteran who travels alot and is not a sucker.
Picture the Scene (again!), only this time your in a busy Lagos market, where if you're not careful, you could enter and may never come out again. You see some knick knacks that you'd like to get, being a tourist, and you negotiate with the seller, and you're going to do so speaking pidgin:
You: "Oya, how much na ya ting?"
Vendor:"Oga, for you, I go give you good price! I dey sell am for ₦700
You: (Laughing sarcastically, but for added effect? "₦700? Wetin do you? You sabi buy am for ₦700 self?"
Vendor: (Now has a look of distraught, so that you can have some sympathy for him) " Ahh, oga. E no be like dat. Ok, I go price am for ₦480!"
You: Heh-heh!! You sef! Which kin discount be dat?" (You then make a 'move' to leave his shop
Vendor: "Ok, Oga. How much you wan buy am for?"
You: (now really trying your luck) "200"
Vendor:(Giving you a look that can't believe that you have the audacity to name such a price!) "Oga, you self, you make me laugh!" (He then makes a move to return the product back on the shelf)
You: "Why you dey look vex? Ok, I go pay ₦250, and dat be my last offer!"
Vendor: "Oga, I get pikin wey dey for my village. How I fit sell for dat kin price? I no go make profit?!?"
You: (As if you've never heard that line before, considering you invented it!) "Ol' boy, which one you speak? I go buy am for ₦250 or wetin?"
Vendor: (Pauses for effect, as if weighing the pros & Cons of his profit dip ) "Ok, bring 300."
You: "Ok, I go give you 300. Ahh-ahh!! Why you dey frown? "
It was also an experience and a half to haggle while I was India. Whenever the missus wanted a discount on a product, she didnt even bother talking to the seller. She would just ask me to step and negotiate the price. The shop owner would think that I would haggle like a European visitor. Hah!! I'm a Nigerian. Suffice to say, my haggling skills have now been revealed to the missus, and shopping will never be the same again!
Now, the art of haggling may not be applicable in most instances in these countries. It's all a question of who's going to blink first.
WARNING & DISCLAIMER: Haggling is not for the shy. You have to be aggresive, and most importantly, not to be a sore loser. The art of haggling may not be applicable in most instances in these countries. It's all a question of who's going to blink first. Have fun but don't get carried away.
I wonder if I can haggle with National rail when i renew my travel card at the end of this month? Hah!!
So, there you are, holding the item and you make your way to the Payment Counter, with that determined look that you'll be leaving the shop with said product in toll. The Cashier offers the obligatory smile and tallys up the cash register and repeats the amount on the tag, as is clearly labelled £750 excluding VAT. The transaction begins:
You:"Ummmm.. wouldn't you say that this item is a bit expensive??"
Customer Service Assistant: (Trying to hurry you up since her shift ended 5 mins ago) "I guess so.. will you be paying by card?"
You: "Not really.. I think this price is a bit over the top. How about I pay £100?"
CSA:"Excuse me?"
You:"Ok, £100 is asking too much. What say I up it to £170, and that's my final offer!"
CSA: (Clearly irate, but composing herself because The Customer is Always Right ) "Sir, all the items are of a fixed price that has been set by the company!"
You: "Ahh-ahh!! If I check the other shops, I'm sure that I can get a good deal!"
CSA: (What does she care what you do next?! With the kind of money she makes doing this job, it's not worth doing the over time!!) "Sir, will you be purchasing the item or not??"
You: (leaning in closer to the counter, thus begining to worry the CSA) "Look, here's the deal: I want to bargain a good deal, and I don't plan to leave until I get what I want! I will pay £300 and that's my last-LAST offer!"
With a line like that, you've only just set yourself up for the CSA to trigger the silent alarm, and before you know it her Line Manager has arrived with security.
Haggling is the subtle/dramatic/diplomatic art of negotiating for a product at a price which you can afford, since you feel and know that the original price is over inflated.
Haggling only works in the UK or some other 'advanced nations' within certain parametres, and its not always the case. That's why I love going home to Nigeria, or any other country that appreciates the concept of haggling. Tried bargaining in Nigeria? It's a rush. It help's if you can speak or know some of the dialect or better still, your mannerism doesn't reflect that of a tourist, but of veteran who travels alot and is not a sucker.
Picture the Scene (again!), only this time your in a busy Lagos market, where if you're not careful, you could enter and may never come out again. You see some knick knacks that you'd like to get, being a tourist, and you negotiate with the seller, and you're going to do so speaking pidgin:
You: "Oya, how much na ya ting?"
Vendor:"Oga, for you, I go give you good price! I dey sell am for ₦700
You: (Laughing sarcastically, but for added effect? "₦700? Wetin do you? You sabi buy am for ₦700 self?"
Vendor: (Now has a look of distraught, so that you can have some sympathy for him) " Ahh, oga. E no be like dat. Ok, I go price am for ₦480!"
You: Heh-heh!! You sef! Which kin discount be dat?" (You then make a 'move' to leave his shop
Vendor: "Ok, Oga. How much you wan buy am for?"
You: (now really trying your luck) "200"
Vendor:(Giving you a look that can't believe that you have the audacity to name such a price!) "Oga, you self, you make me laugh!" (He then makes a move to return the product back on the shelf)
You: "Why you dey look vex? Ok, I go pay ₦250, and dat be my last offer!"
Vendor: "Oga, I get pikin wey dey for my village. How I fit sell for dat kin price? I no go make profit?!?"
You: (As if you've never heard that line before, considering you invented it!) "Ol' boy, which one you speak? I go buy am for ₦250 or wetin?"
Vendor: (Pauses for effect, as if weighing the pros & Cons of his profit dip ) "Ok, bring 300."
You: "Ok, I go give you 300. Ahh-ahh!! Why you dey frown? "
It was also an experience and a half to haggle while I was India. Whenever the missus wanted a discount on a product, she didnt even bother talking to the seller. She would just ask me to step and negotiate the price. The shop owner would think that I would haggle like a European visitor. Hah!! I'm a Nigerian. Suffice to say, my haggling skills have now been revealed to the missus, and shopping will never be the same again!
Now, the art of haggling may not be applicable in most instances in these countries. It's all a question of who's going to blink first.
WARNING & DISCLAIMER: Haggling is not for the shy. You have to be aggresive, and most importantly, not to be a sore loser. The art of haggling may not be applicable in most instances in these countries. It's all a question of who's going to blink first. Have fun but don't get carried away.
I wonder if I can haggle with National rail when i renew my travel card at the end of this month? Hah!!
"Elevator music??? Why, I oughta.....!!"
Ok, here's the thing: everyone has his or her musical preference. You have your Hard Rock, Blues and Soul, Pop (for the love of God!! Pop music?!?!?) Carnatic music, Afro Beat, Classical, and the list is endless when it comes to musical stylings. You even have those who have their indulgences in their 'Hippity-hop- Rappity- blingity-bling "Yeah-yeah-yeah's!" with the "You look at me and I'll Shoot you!!" lyrics and such. If that's your preference, then roll with it. (Although why any one would want to emulate that kind of lifestyle is debateable) Irrespective, if that's your musical choice, then that's how it goes.
So when some musical Neanderthals (You KNOW who you are!!) classify Jazz as 'Elevator' Music, well; I think some 'Musical re-education' is needed. All it takes to reinforce the jazz stereotype is a quick ride in a Shopping centre elevator, a jazz tune comes on, and hey, presto!! Or, "Your call is in a queue, and will be dealt with soon. Please hold while we belt out some 'Jazz'". Therefore, by default, all jazz is 'Elevator' music. But, please, if you're going to take a dig at Jazz, then at least don't crucify jazz by the 'pre-heard conceptions.
Can you imagine if Miles Davis were still around, and someone shouted, "Yo! Miles!! I don't know the name of that track, but it sure makes good elevator music!" I can think of 51 ways that Miles Davis would improvise his trumpet on anyone who would make such a remark.
And that's another thing: If it were Classical music being played in the background, it's never known as elevator music! Nah! It's seen as Refined and 'Cultured' music that is deemed as the pinnacle to which other genres should strive to by pigeon holed music purists! And why's that?? There is no other genre music that i know of that has been labelled as elevator music like jazz has.
Sure, Jazz is an acquired taste, and it has evolved from Trad Jazz and 'Jazz our parents listened to!'. You've got your contemporary jazz acts that are many to mention, but here's a band I will continually harp on about: Fourplay.
Hey, everyone is entitled to his or her opinion (Grrrrr!!!!I still can't get over that title, 'Elevator Music!'), but I can recommend a couple of jazz sites that just might kill notion of 'Elevator Music' out of your system. Check out Jazzreview or All About Jazz.
And if you'r a complete ninny, then here's Jazz for Idiots. Should give you some idea of the goodness that you're missing out on....
Elevator music indeed....
So when some musical Neanderthals (You KNOW who you are!!) classify Jazz as 'Elevator' Music, well; I think some 'Musical re-education' is needed. All it takes to reinforce the jazz stereotype is a quick ride in a Shopping centre elevator, a jazz tune comes on, and hey, presto!! Or, "Your call is in a queue, and will be dealt with soon. Please hold while we belt out some 'Jazz'". Therefore, by default, all jazz is 'Elevator' music. But, please, if you're going to take a dig at Jazz, then at least don't crucify jazz by the 'pre-heard conceptions.
Can you imagine if Miles Davis were still around, and someone shouted, "Yo! Miles!! I don't know the name of that track, but it sure makes good elevator music!" I can think of 51 ways that Miles Davis would improvise his trumpet on anyone who would make such a remark.
And that's another thing: If it were Classical music being played in the background, it's never known as elevator music! Nah! It's seen as Refined and 'Cultured' music that is deemed as the pinnacle to which other genres should strive to by pigeon holed music purists! And why's that?? There is no other genre music that i know of that has been labelled as elevator music like jazz has.
Sure, Jazz is an acquired taste, and it has evolved from Trad Jazz and 'Jazz our parents listened to!'. You've got your contemporary jazz acts that are many to mention, but here's a band I will continually harp on about: Fourplay.
Hey, everyone is entitled to his or her opinion (Grrrrr!!!!I still can't get over that title, 'Elevator Music!'), but I can recommend a couple of jazz sites that just might kill notion of 'Elevator Music' out of your system. Check out Jazzreview or All About Jazz.
And if you'r a complete ninny, then here's Jazz for Idiots. Should give you some idea of the goodness that you're missing out on....
Elevator music indeed....
Sunday, March 19, 2006
A Beginner's guide to The Silent Nod (The African Way)
Whilst walking to work today, I saw an elderly black man coming the opposite direction to me. At that particular moment we crossed paths, we both gave a slight nod of recognition to one another. Now, in some parts of UK (especially London) you don't make eye contact. Social skills of interaction have long gone for most, and has unfortunately been replaced by fear of absolute paranoia.
Anyway, After my encounter with the Old Man, It crossed my mind that whenever I seem to have been the only black face around (in other not so cosmopolitan parts of UK or other parts of the world), and I've come across another black face, it's like meeting another kindred spirit. All it takes is just maintaining that briefest of eye contacts, a slight raise of the head, and you've managed to say "Hi! Hows it going? So you're also stuck in this part of the world, huh? Hang Tough!! Our time to slip in is nearly upon us!!" all in a space of 5 seconds.
The silent nod is a universally approved signal of acknowledgement, presumably amoung black people. (Can't talk for everyone else) It is as kosher as the ritual of shaking hands. If your meeting male friends within an informal setting, you go through the ritualistic dramatisation of shaking hands. Not much of a handshake the English way, but more hand punches, bounces, and the final snap of the finger. It's a black thing.
Even where I work, I can count the number of black faces just as I can count the number of stars in Central London at night. Whenever i do see another black face, I've been told by close colleagues that I'm as excitable as a dog wagging his tail, to which I would often reply, "Well, every dog must have his day, and today is 'Woof' Day!"
However, the silent nod becomes a cacophony of greetings once you meet a fellow Nigerian, especially a Yoruba person, if you just so happen to be the only black face in the vicinity. That happened to me when I was in Chennei, India, a couple of months ago. There's a joke that you can find a Nigerian where ever you go in the world, so it was no suprise when I bumped into a Yoruba man in one of the shopping centres there. The Missus & I were playing 'Spot the Black Face, excluding the Black Looking South Indians' when we bumped into my fellow Nigerian. He first fobbed me off with an English name, but you can tell who's a Nigerian either by their mannerisms or accent. When I asked him in pidgin "Wetin be your propa name ya papa give you?" the response was " Ahh!! Omo! My name be 'Balogun' (I'm not going to reveal his real name, so Balogun will have to do!) I be Niaja boy!! Wetin you dey do for dis place?" and thus the exchange of pleasantries, Nigeria style.
Another cultural silent nod that speaks volumes is the Indian Nod. The perfected Indian nod can be diplomatic in non-commital ways of answering 'Yes or No' Answers. I can go on about my experiences of such nods during my time in Sri Lanka and India, but that's for another blog.
Anyway, After my encounter with the Old Man, It crossed my mind that whenever I seem to have been the only black face around (in other not so cosmopolitan parts of UK or other parts of the world), and I've come across another black face, it's like meeting another kindred spirit. All it takes is just maintaining that briefest of eye contacts, a slight raise of the head, and you've managed to say "Hi! Hows it going? So you're also stuck in this part of the world, huh? Hang Tough!! Our time to slip in is nearly upon us!!" all in a space of 5 seconds.
The silent nod is a universally approved signal of acknowledgement, presumably amoung black people. (Can't talk for everyone else) It is as kosher as the ritual of shaking hands. If your meeting male friends within an informal setting, you go through the ritualistic dramatisation of shaking hands. Not much of a handshake the English way, but more hand punches, bounces, and the final snap of the finger. It's a black thing.
Even where I work, I can count the number of black faces just as I can count the number of stars in Central London at night. Whenever i do see another black face, I've been told by close colleagues that I'm as excitable as a dog wagging his tail, to which I would often reply, "Well, every dog must have his day, and today is 'Woof' Day!"
However, the silent nod becomes a cacophony of greetings once you meet a fellow Nigerian, especially a Yoruba person, if you just so happen to be the only black face in the vicinity. That happened to me when I was in Chennei, India, a couple of months ago. There's a joke that you can find a Nigerian where ever you go in the world, so it was no suprise when I bumped into a Yoruba man in one of the shopping centres there. The Missus & I were playing 'Spot the Black Face, excluding the Black Looking South Indians' when we bumped into my fellow Nigerian. He first fobbed me off with an English name, but you can tell who's a Nigerian either by their mannerisms or accent. When I asked him in pidgin "Wetin be your propa name ya papa give you?" the response was " Ahh!! Omo! My name be 'Balogun' (I'm not going to reveal his real name, so Balogun will have to do!) I be Niaja boy!! Wetin you dey do for dis place?" and thus the exchange of pleasantries, Nigeria style.
Another cultural silent nod that speaks volumes is the Indian Nod. The perfected Indian nod can be diplomatic in non-commital ways of answering 'Yes or No' Answers. I can go on about my experiences of such nods during my time in Sri Lanka and India, but that's for another blog.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Incentives to learn? Ye-ye people!!
So, reading the newspaper today, and something in the news got my attention. The Headline read 'Limo Rides for going to School' (Metro paper: 17/03/2006) The gist of the piece was that a school in South Bristol was promising pupils a free limousine and restaurant meal if they turn up to all their classes. It's not the first time I've heard of these 'incentives'. There is a similar programme in other schools in London that also have the 'Class for Cash'scheme.
I swear you couldn't make that up in Niaja (Nigeria). Ah-Ah! I mean, Picture the scene if you will: The year is 1989. Location: Ibadan Grammar School. the Principal, Mr Oladunjoye, in his oversized flowing 'agbada' (traditional yoruba attire), declaring in his thick Ijesa accent during the school assembley that he is initiating the 'No Canes for better learning' directive. The programme includes food vouchers to 'School II' (favourite haunt for truants, who, ironically, still made it to class after the first period.) Or how about the 'Drop offs'; a scheme initiated by the already underfunded and over worked teachers to drop off student's back home. All this and many other promises to encourage students to attend classes.
Hah! The harsh reality was and is more blunt: Such initiatives would NEVER take place in most of the schools in Nigeria. First off, It would never fly. And even if the go ahead was given, that kind of money for such a plan would have been 'diverted' (wink-wink) for other pressing needs. Think about it: money for limousines, meals and Ipods for wayward students, when the teaching staff's last paycheck was about 4-6 months ago??? Ok, then.
The Cane is also a fundamental figure head that represents the authority of the school, hence can be used as the decisive incentive to get education rammed into your gumption. Give the teacher any reason to use that cane, and you have yourself to blame. Arguing objectively with the teacher in class is one thing, but mouthing off? You've just signed for yourself detention, Nigeria style. Going to go home and complain to Mum & Dad that you were beaten by the teacher?? Then you best get your facts right, because if your folks concur with the teacher that you deserved that discipline in the first instance, then your're in for more floggings, mostly from your parents. If the teacher was not one for beatings, he or she would always opt for doubling any guilty students as farm labourers after school hours. To add insult to injury, you'd bring your own hoe & 'ada' (machete), cultivate the land, and see the fruits of your labour consumed by the teacher in 6 months time. (That'll teach you for bunking off from class in the first place!)
A good education was and is the holy grail that many people had to work hard (literally!) to get. You try walking from Felele, Ibadan to Molete (about 10 miles) early in the morning, and in the scorching sun coming back every school day, just to learn "The Queen's English", according to my English Teacher, Mr. Adeleye. Coincidently, I come to the UK, and the inhabitants of the land do not even speak good english. Come to think of it, was all that nought?? (Nahh....)
There are more instances that other Nigerians or people you know that never were educated in the West would be more than happy to share with you their experiences on how they had to concentrate on education. Sometimes the methods were a tad draconian, but it probably worked in most instances. I swear, many children in the UK do not know how easy they have it when it comes to getting an education. I think the spoilt brats of this country should have an exchange programm with kids in other countries who thirst for a good education.
Besides, can you imagine workplaces offering limo incentives to employees with minimum wages just to come in? Productivity would go up!
I swear you couldn't make that up in Niaja (Nigeria). Ah-Ah! I mean, Picture the scene if you will: The year is 1989. Location: Ibadan Grammar School. the Principal, Mr Oladunjoye, in his oversized flowing 'agbada' (traditional yoruba attire), declaring in his thick Ijesa accent during the school assembley that he is initiating the 'No Canes for better learning' directive. The programme includes food vouchers to 'School II' (favourite haunt for truants, who, ironically, still made it to class after the first period.) Or how about the 'Drop offs'; a scheme initiated by the already underfunded and over worked teachers to drop off student's back home. All this and many other promises to encourage students to attend classes.
Hah! The harsh reality was and is more blunt: Such initiatives would NEVER take place in most of the schools in Nigeria. First off, It would never fly. And even if the go ahead was given, that kind of money for such a plan would have been 'diverted' (wink-wink) for other pressing needs. Think about it: money for limousines, meals and Ipods for wayward students, when the teaching staff's last paycheck was about 4-6 months ago??? Ok, then.
The Cane is also a fundamental figure head that represents the authority of the school, hence can be used as the decisive incentive to get education rammed into your gumption. Give the teacher any reason to use that cane, and you have yourself to blame. Arguing objectively with the teacher in class is one thing, but mouthing off? You've just signed for yourself detention, Nigeria style. Going to go home and complain to Mum & Dad that you were beaten by the teacher?? Then you best get your facts right, because if your folks concur with the teacher that you deserved that discipline in the first instance, then your're in for more floggings, mostly from your parents. If the teacher was not one for beatings, he or she would always opt for doubling any guilty students as farm labourers after school hours. To add insult to injury, you'd bring your own hoe & 'ada' (machete), cultivate the land, and see the fruits of your labour consumed by the teacher in 6 months time. (That'll teach you for bunking off from class in the first place!)
A good education was and is the holy grail that many people had to work hard (literally!) to get. You try walking from Felele, Ibadan to Molete (about 10 miles) early in the morning, and in the scorching sun coming back every school day, just to learn "The Queen's English", according to my English Teacher, Mr. Adeleye. Coincidently, I come to the UK, and the inhabitants of the land do not even speak good english. Come to think of it, was all that nought?? (Nahh....)
There are more instances that other Nigerians or people you know that never were educated in the West would be more than happy to share with you their experiences on how they had to concentrate on education. Sometimes the methods were a tad draconian, but it probably worked in most instances. I swear, many children in the UK do not know how easy they have it when it comes to getting an education. I think the spoilt brats of this country should have an exchange programm with kids in other countries who thirst for a good education.
Besides, can you imagine workplaces offering limo incentives to employees with minimum wages just to come in? Productivity would go up!
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
"So You want to know": How to wake up & face a new working day...
"... and that's another thing...
When people gripe that they hate waking up in the mornings, i normally respond by telling them that it all depends to what we are waking up to. I mean, lets face it: From all the billions of people on the face of the planet, only a fraction enjoy waking up to their jobs & lives. And many have reasons for not wanting to wake up: The responsibilities that come with the day; bullies at work; the rat race; at work with people, whom, let's be honest here, you just cannot be at peace with them.
However, this monday is different. Picture the scene, if you will: It's a monday morning. You're alarm's gone off, You've had to wake up early for the early tide, because your're going snorkling off the coast of Bermuda. Or you're just waking up at your own time doing what you enjoy doing, and getting paid to do it. Or maybe any other desire you have in mind; the list is endless. So, I guess it all boils down to what you wake up to.
It's interesting how people get worked up about what they hear in the News. If you ever needed motivation to be depressed, then just read the front cover of the newspapers or turn on any news channels. The scrowls on people's faces contorting from one negative headline to another is detremental to a person's well being. I mean, on the face of it, News is a commodity that keeps people buy into, and it plays into our fears and paranoia. Don't believe me? Ok, then name one positive headline in recent years that gave you peace of mind? (All answers can be send to 'news@negpos.com') I could go into a thesis about News, Media & Exploitation of the masses, but I spent three years at Uni trying to figure that out, and it still fandangoes my head.
So, do you want to at least start the day on a positive note without the negative aggro, which, inevitably will come along? Here are a few tips:
Don't wake up to the news first thing. I mean, why wake up to High Interest rates, Murder, Scandels, Celebrities, Unemployement, and such. Find anything positive there?? You can always play catch up with the news later on. If the news story or feature involves you in anyway, you'll get a phone call from loved ones or concerned friends.
Read something inspiring to your well being. I prefer to read the bible. Some people might not care for that, but that's cool. And yes, there might seem to be some harsh realities and prophecies (Book of Revelations, anyone??), at least I believe that I'm going to get positive vibes, home truths and wisdom by the Grace of God.
Push the Envelope: Get down and give yourself 50-100 press ups/sit-ups/pull-ups. You'll be too knackered to bother yourself with negativty.
Have a bath: Well, apart from the health benefits and all, you'll feel too revitalised to want any negativity stiffling your creativity.
These are just some pointers, and not neccessarily in that order. If you can think of any other alternatives to having the news, drop me a line.
May the good Lord give us the strength to be able to deal with each trying day that comes, Amen.
Peace out!
"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself"
Matthew 6:31
When people gripe that they hate waking up in the mornings, i normally respond by telling them that it all depends to what we are waking up to. I mean, lets face it: From all the billions of people on the face of the planet, only a fraction enjoy waking up to their jobs & lives. And many have reasons for not wanting to wake up: The responsibilities that come with the day; bullies at work; the rat race; at work with people, whom, let's be honest here, you just cannot be at peace with them.
However, this monday is different. Picture the scene, if you will: It's a monday morning. You're alarm's gone off, You've had to wake up early for the early tide, because your're going snorkling off the coast of Bermuda. Or you're just waking up at your own time doing what you enjoy doing, and getting paid to do it. Or maybe any other desire you have in mind; the list is endless. So, I guess it all boils down to what you wake up to.
It's interesting how people get worked up about what they hear in the News. If you ever needed motivation to be depressed, then just read the front cover of the newspapers or turn on any news channels. The scrowls on people's faces contorting from one negative headline to another is detremental to a person's well being. I mean, on the face of it, News is a commodity that keeps people buy into, and it plays into our fears and paranoia. Don't believe me? Ok, then name one positive headline in recent years that gave you peace of mind? (All answers can be send to 'news@negpos.com') I could go into a thesis about News, Media & Exploitation of the masses, but I spent three years at Uni trying to figure that out, and it still fandangoes my head.
So, do you want to at least start the day on a positive note without the negative aggro, which, inevitably will come along? Here are a few tips:
Don't wake up to the news first thing. I mean, why wake up to High Interest rates, Murder, Scandels, Celebrities, Unemployement, and such. Find anything positive there?? You can always play catch up with the news later on. If the news story or feature involves you in anyway, you'll get a phone call from loved ones or concerned friends.
Read something inspiring to your well being. I prefer to read the bible. Some people might not care for that, but that's cool. And yes, there might seem to be some harsh realities and prophecies (Book of Revelations, anyone??), at least I believe that I'm going to get positive vibes, home truths and wisdom by the Grace of God.
Push the Envelope: Get down and give yourself 50-100 press ups/sit-ups/pull-ups. You'll be too knackered to bother yourself with negativty.
Have a bath: Well, apart from the health benefits and all, you'll feel too revitalised to want any negativity stiffling your creativity.
These are just some pointers, and not neccessarily in that order. If you can think of any other alternatives to having the news, drop me a line.
May the good Lord give us the strength to be able to deal with each trying day that comes, Amen.
Peace out!
"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself"
Matthew 6:31
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
The Rail services: More Palaver & Wahala for your money's worth!
"And thats another thing...!
If you're a resident of London, and you have a membership to a gym, or lack certain social skills that need improving, but can't afford Life or motivational coaches, then I have a proposal that would not only save you money, but will also give you a good work out not just in the physical sense, but also for your emotional status. I present to you: 'The National Rail Workout'-Recommended by Daily users (Limited Edition).
Preparing for a school reunion after 10 years, and you want to regain that lost figure with a quick work out? (Come on, you know who you are..) Then The Sprint for the 7.25 Service to London Bridge (Or any other destination of your choice!) with only a few minutes to spare, comes highly recommended. (Only to realise that there has been a platform alteration, and you now have to sprint back to the platform you just ran past.)
Feel that you need to lose weight but can't afford a massage? Welllll! Help is at hand: The 'Squeeze intothecarriage 2000', could just help you shed some pounds off. As a matter of fact, this deal is a' 2-for-1' bargain. That's right, folks. Not only do you get a massage, you also test run your eloquence skills of "Move down the carriage, please!" It comes free with scents and smell tasters, depending on the season.
Thinking of testing your blood pressure? Say no more. With train delays & cancellations a plenty, with the continually hike to fares, you'll notice your cardio workout begins with swear words muttered under your breath, and that vein on your forehead throbbing more than usual. (please make sure that you have a 'gym' partner with you who is skilled in the art of CPR.)
My personal favourite is 'How to improve your stereotype'. See anyone who is of Arabic, Asian or African origin with a big bag? Then its high time to move away from said characters, pronto. And if you happen to be of said origin, then you'll get to meet British 'Bobby' (police), who will regal you with quotes from The Terrorism Act of 2000: Section 14, which states that the police can stop you at random and check your belongings. (It's happened to me twice, so I should know!) Please do not try running on a platform if you're carrying a big bag. If they order you stop, please, for the love of God: STOP!!
Don't delay, Join up now!
***DISCLAIMER***
***Subscription is open to those who have to make their way to work on a daily basis. Membership comes with a no money back guarantee. If you are not satisfied, and are still persistant for a refund, then you might be lucky in contacting customer liason office of the services providers, who will provide forms that just don't seem the hassle to fill. If you feel that the above quote seems too much aggro than its worth, then you can either invest in a car which will definately bring more problems than its worth. Besides, You'd be better off walking. At least the environement would appreciate it***
Have a blessed Day.
A small light can dispel great darkness.
If you're a resident of London, and you have a membership to a gym, or lack certain social skills that need improving, but can't afford Life or motivational coaches, then I have a proposal that would not only save you money, but will also give you a good work out not just in the physical sense, but also for your emotional status. I present to you: 'The National Rail Workout'-Recommended by Daily users (Limited Edition).
Preparing for a school reunion after 10 years, and you want to regain that lost figure with a quick work out? (Come on, you know who you are..) Then The Sprint for the 7.25 Service to London Bridge (Or any other destination of your choice!) with only a few minutes to spare, comes highly recommended. (Only to realise that there has been a platform alteration, and you now have to sprint back to the platform you just ran past.)
Feel that you need to lose weight but can't afford a massage? Welllll! Help is at hand: The 'Squeeze intothecarriage 2000', could just help you shed some pounds off. As a matter of fact, this deal is a' 2-for-1' bargain. That's right, folks. Not only do you get a massage, you also test run your eloquence skills of "Move down the carriage, please!" It comes free with scents and smell tasters, depending on the season.
Thinking of testing your blood pressure? Say no more. With train delays & cancellations a plenty, with the continually hike to fares, you'll notice your cardio workout begins with swear words muttered under your breath, and that vein on your forehead throbbing more than usual. (please make sure that you have a 'gym' partner with you who is skilled in the art of CPR.)
My personal favourite is 'How to improve your stereotype'. See anyone who is of Arabic, Asian or African origin with a big bag? Then its high time to move away from said characters, pronto. And if you happen to be of said origin, then you'll get to meet British 'Bobby' (police), who will regal you with quotes from The Terrorism Act of 2000: Section 14, which states that the police can stop you at random and check your belongings. (It's happened to me twice, so I should know!) Please do not try running on a platform if you're carrying a big bag. If they order you stop, please, for the love of God: STOP!!
Don't delay, Join up now!
***DISCLAIMER***
***Subscription is open to those who have to make their way to work on a daily basis. Membership comes with a no money back guarantee. If you are not satisfied, and are still persistant for a refund, then you might be lucky in contacting customer liason office of the services providers, who will provide forms that just don't seem the hassle to fill. If you feel that the above quote seems too much aggro than its worth, then you can either invest in a car which will definately bring more problems than its worth. Besides, You'd be better off walking. At least the environement would appreciate it***
Have a blessed Day.
A small light can dispel great darkness.
Corporal Punishment , African style
Prov 22:15: "Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him."
Whenever I meet up with friends, we go down the route of nostalgia and there is one major thread that weaves us together: Parental discipline. No matter how different your lives were growing up, everyone has a horror story to recount on being on the recieving end of discipline because we thought we could get away with stuff...and then some.
Now, what would constitute as a crime to warrent discipline, Nigerian style? Well, it depends. One well known misdemeanour is talking back to your Elders. That's a Golden No-No. As a matter of fact, that's not even an option. You open your mouth to argue, and I don't care how liberal your Nigerian parent is, and the last thing you'll see is a blurred callous hand about to drop a heavy payload of backhand slap to your mouth. "Eh?!! I am talking and you have the audacity to talk back at me?? Ahh.. "
Or when you lie to you folks, and you thought you got away with it. Or so you thought. You had your dinner, watched tv, and you go to bed, 'safe' in the knowlegdge that you've pulled a fast one on your folks. Hah! Foolish mortal!! While you're busy sleeping, your parents, the stealth commandos, have made their way into your room, locked the door, and begin to lay down a barrage of whackings in your still slumbered state. And with each hit is a well chroreographed line that sync's as one : "WHY-(WHACK!)-WERE-(WHACK!!) YOU (WHACK!!) LYING??? HEH!! DON'T -(WHACK!) DO-(WHACK!) THAT!!).. and so on and so forth.
Amd those classic moments when you embarress your parents by taking gifts without their say so. You've just guaranteed yourself a world of pain. Or when you've done a crime so bad, that your dad tells you how he feels before he pounces on you: "Ah!! O ni paami!! ("You will not kill me!") "Mi o pa baaba mi, e wo na o ni pa mi ki asiko mi to!!" ("I did not kill my father, and you will not do so before my time!!")
There's a huge range of 'tool's that are normally at a parents's disposal. It could be the cat of 9 lives, or commonly known as 'Koboko'. Or The 'Pankere', which was a small, thin, but highly flexible dry bamboo stick. Worst time to have that hit you was during the harmattan season.
Or how about infamous'Stoop down'? Its a punishing torture where you have to balance on one leg, and then stoop your whole body down and hold yourself with your index finger. Try staying at that angle without changing over for 5 minutes, and I can guarantee you a place in the Guinness Book of Records. Whoever dreamed up that torture must have had spare time on his hands.
There were always different ways of being disciplined, and you just knew it was going to be painful. You could either be ordered to go and "get your friend... not de black one.. de brown one!!" (for the uninitiated, it means the belt)
I can't speak for everyone else, but 99% of the time, I did deserve the discipline. I was wayward, rebellious, and I thought I knew it all. There were some very abusive parents who would use the guise of discipline to take their frustrations out on their kids. Yet, the question stands: Should we spare the Rod?? Even using the Rod at times still does not ensure that the reciepient will turn out just nice. I mean, still look at the corruption coming out from Nigeria from every tier possible.
Irrespective, I'm still a great advocate for discipline. Not beating someone to a pulp, but whatever warrents the punishment.
Picture, if you will, this scenario: If everything I recollected above was common practise in today's PC'd civilised & liberalised UK? Nahhh.. Can't happen. Today's kids' know their 'Rights', would call Child Services, and can even sue for emotional stress. Think about it: why did some of your African friends leave the UK when they reached the age of 8, and never came back until adulthood? Something to think about....
Which is why I feel that The Nigerian and British Government should have a programme where wayward kids in the UK spend a couple of months in Nigeria. Money back guareentee that it would work like a charm. Imagine a kid from London talking back or swearing....in Nigeria???? Comeone.. visualise it....
(**This blog was written from personal experience and recollections from friends who grew up in Nigeria. Not every African parent can be stereotyped based on what i have written**)
Whenever I meet up with friends, we go down the route of nostalgia and there is one major thread that weaves us together: Parental discipline. No matter how different your lives were growing up, everyone has a horror story to recount on being on the recieving end of discipline because we thought we could get away with stuff...and then some.
Now, what would constitute as a crime to warrent discipline, Nigerian style? Well, it depends. One well known misdemeanour is talking back to your Elders. That's a Golden No-No. As a matter of fact, that's not even an option. You open your mouth to argue, and I don't care how liberal your Nigerian parent is, and the last thing you'll see is a blurred callous hand about to drop a heavy payload of backhand slap to your mouth. "Eh?!! I am talking and you have the audacity to talk back at me?? Ahh.. "
Or when you lie to you folks, and you thought you got away with it. Or so you thought. You had your dinner, watched tv, and you go to bed, 'safe' in the knowlegdge that you've pulled a fast one on your folks. Hah! Foolish mortal!! While you're busy sleeping, your parents, the stealth commandos, have made their way into your room, locked the door, and begin to lay down a barrage of whackings in your still slumbered state. And with each hit is a well chroreographed line that sync's as one : "WHY-(WHACK!)-WERE-(WHACK!!) YOU (WHACK!!) LYING??? HEH!! DON'T -(WHACK!) DO-(WHACK!) THAT!!).. and so on and so forth.
Amd those classic moments when you embarress your parents by taking gifts without their say so. You've just guaranteed yourself a world of pain. Or when you've done a crime so bad, that your dad tells you how he feels before he pounces on you: "Ah!! O ni paami!! ("You will not kill me!") "Mi o pa baaba mi, e wo na o ni pa mi ki asiko mi to!!" ("I did not kill my father, and you will not do so before my time!!")
There's a huge range of 'tool's that are normally at a parents's disposal. It could be the cat of 9 lives, or commonly known as 'Koboko'. Or The 'Pankere', which was a small, thin, but highly flexible dry bamboo stick. Worst time to have that hit you was during the harmattan season.
Or how about infamous'Stoop down'? Its a punishing torture where you have to balance on one leg, and then stoop your whole body down and hold yourself with your index finger. Try staying at that angle without changing over for 5 minutes, and I can guarantee you a place in the Guinness Book of Records. Whoever dreamed up that torture must have had spare time on his hands.
There were always different ways of being disciplined, and you just knew it was going to be painful. You could either be ordered to go and "get your friend... not de black one.. de brown one!!" (for the uninitiated, it means the belt)
I can't speak for everyone else, but 99% of the time, I did deserve the discipline. I was wayward, rebellious, and I thought I knew it all. There were some very abusive parents who would use the guise of discipline to take their frustrations out on their kids. Yet, the question stands: Should we spare the Rod?? Even using the Rod at times still does not ensure that the reciepient will turn out just nice. I mean, still look at the corruption coming out from Nigeria from every tier possible.
Irrespective, I'm still a great advocate for discipline. Not beating someone to a pulp, but whatever warrents the punishment.
Picture, if you will, this scenario: If everything I recollected above was common practise in today's PC'd civilised & liberalised UK? Nahhh.. Can't happen. Today's kids' know their 'Rights', would call Child Services, and can even sue for emotional stress. Think about it: why did some of your African friends leave the UK when they reached the age of 8, and never came back until adulthood? Something to think about....
Which is why I feel that The Nigerian and British Government should have a programme where wayward kids in the UK spend a couple of months in Nigeria. Money back guareentee that it would work like a charm. Imagine a kid from London talking back or swearing....in Nigeria???? Comeone.. visualise it....
(**This blog was written from personal experience and recollections from friends who grew up in Nigeria. Not every African parent can be stereotyped based on what i have written**)
Monday, March 13, 2006
"Wetin be birds & Bees??"
..And thats another thing....
We all have different stories about our parents giving us crash talks about "Getting to know the opposite sex" and "you might be wondering why your body is going through these changes.." . Well, ok... maybe not all of us. Some had to learn about the 'birds & the bees' either from Peers, religious establishments, or from man's long standing friend, Television. (although, it would seem that the Internet is about to take that title!)
So, back to "The Talk", Nigerian Style. Picture the scene, if you will: We are in Ibadan in the early 1990's, and my dad has assembled myself, my younger brother and a friend of mine who was staying with us at the time, to his presence. You could say that my dad is a bit of a dramatist. I guess he probably is. His face cleary portrays the emotions of the words he has to say. When he starts on a story, you are captivated by how he weaves the plots and characters and brings about a colour story in your mind. So, there we were, thinking that he was going to share some more stories for us. We were wrong.
"Now", my dad begins. He always starts with that adverb. And when he does, your last chance to go to the toilet or make yourself scarce becomes a luxury you do not indulge in until he finishes. And that is normally about 2 hours later. It would all depend on what he had to share. And he normally drawls out that "now" word. Not only that, he accentuates every word to reiterate the importance of each word, so that it would burn into your gumption and soul.
"Now, I want to give you some advice. This advice will hopefully see you through your young lives. You have now reached that age when you will be interested in the opposite sex. And that is natural. You would want to go out, and you might even bring them home so that your mother and I can see who you are with. Ah-ah!! This is just the way how things are"
Then his tone changes. "But, if I am sitting in the comfort of my chair, and I hear a 'knock-knock' on my front door and I see a woman with either an inflated stomach, or carrying a young baby: you, her, and whatever she is carrying, I don't want to see you again.. lai-lai!! . Ke ya jaade kuro ni ile mi!!" (Roughly translated: "You had better Gerrout of my house!!")
So, if you have kids that are reaching that age where they start to get curious about certain things, you could either chat with them and try to guide them on the right and narrow path. Or, if you really want them to have the fear of God put into them, then i can introduce you to my dad.
We all have different stories about our parents giving us crash talks about "Getting to know the opposite sex" and "you might be wondering why your body is going through these changes.." . Well, ok... maybe not all of us. Some had to learn about the 'birds & the bees' either from Peers, religious establishments, or from man's long standing friend, Television. (although, it would seem that the Internet is about to take that title!)
So, back to "The Talk", Nigerian Style. Picture the scene, if you will: We are in Ibadan in the early 1990's, and my dad has assembled myself, my younger brother and a friend of mine who was staying with us at the time, to his presence. You could say that my dad is a bit of a dramatist. I guess he probably is. His face cleary portrays the emotions of the words he has to say. When he starts on a story, you are captivated by how he weaves the plots and characters and brings about a colour story in your mind. So, there we were, thinking that he was going to share some more stories for us. We were wrong.
"Now", my dad begins. He always starts with that adverb. And when he does, your last chance to go to the toilet or make yourself scarce becomes a luxury you do not indulge in until he finishes. And that is normally about 2 hours later. It would all depend on what he had to share. And he normally drawls out that "now" word. Not only that, he accentuates every word to reiterate the importance of each word, so that it would burn into your gumption and soul.
"Now, I want to give you some advice. This advice will hopefully see you through your young lives. You have now reached that age when you will be interested in the opposite sex. And that is natural. You would want to go out, and you might even bring them home so that your mother and I can see who you are with. Ah-ah!! This is just the way how things are"
Then his tone changes. "But, if I am sitting in the comfort of my chair, and I hear a 'knock-knock' on my front door and I see a woman with either an inflated stomach, or carrying a young baby: you, her, and whatever she is carrying, I don't want to see you again.. lai-lai!! . Ke ya jaade kuro ni ile mi!!" (Roughly translated: "You had better Gerrout of my house!!")
So, if you have kids that are reaching that age where they start to get curious about certain things, you could either chat with them and try to guide them on the right and narrow path. Or, if you really want them to have the fear of God put into them, then i can introduce you to my dad.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Umbralleus Longtijuvus
"...and another thing..
Space! The final frontier.. these are the voyages & encounters of trying to have some personal space to yourself.. and not getting it. Especially whenever your walking about in public places.
When it comes to this dimensional extension while you're out and about, people's spacial awareness leaves alot to be desired for. From the lovey-dovey couples to Mothers or Fathers with prams and just never looking where they are going; the broadsheed newspaper reader who is yet to master the art of folding. Let's not forget the tourist who never seem to know when to make up their mind. Oh, I'm sure there is a long list of culprits, but lets examine one dangering species:
Umbralleus longtijuvus. Or, in layman's term, Men with long umbrellas. You would have thought that men would take their cue from women who have the rather petite shaped brollies, but still effectively keeps out the rain when its opened. Notice the way how men hold their umbrellas while its closed. With each stride comes a swing which signifies a territorial marking with the umbrella, and you best not be within the radius of touch. Woe betide you if you do, because the next thing you will feel is the long and pointed end of the umbrella.
Such offenders of wrongly using umbrellas (W.U.U) are easily identified and classed as:
'Regimental Sergeant Major'
'Samurai Jack' (Cartoon caricature)
'Ian Botham' (Cricket legend to the uninitiated)
'Shaka Zulu'. (Shame on you if you have no idea who this man was!)
Here are a couple of tips in how to avoid being clobbered or stabbed by the above suspects:
Walk at a minimal pace (safe) distance: Stating the obvious it would seem, but many a people still fall victim just by not watching their step.
Don't stay in a country where it rains or the sun shines all the time. (Self explanatory)
Destroy all long umbrellas you find and get smaller ones for any male friends you have.
With these simple rules, you just might be able to avoid being lampooned out there.
If you have a moment, drop by to one of my favourite sites for a daily reading:
http://www.rbc.org/odb/odb.shtml
Genuine concern for others is the mark of a great spiritual coach.
Space! The final frontier.. these are the voyages & encounters of trying to have some personal space to yourself.. and not getting it. Especially whenever your walking about in public places.
When it comes to this dimensional extension while you're out and about, people's spacial awareness leaves alot to be desired for. From the lovey-dovey couples to Mothers or Fathers with prams and just never looking where they are going; the broadsheed newspaper reader who is yet to master the art of folding. Let's not forget the tourist who never seem to know when to make up their mind. Oh, I'm sure there is a long list of culprits, but lets examine one dangering species:
Umbralleus longtijuvus. Or, in layman's term, Men with long umbrellas. You would have thought that men would take their cue from women who have the rather petite shaped brollies, but still effectively keeps out the rain when its opened. Notice the way how men hold their umbrellas while its closed. With each stride comes a swing which signifies a territorial marking with the umbrella, and you best not be within the radius of touch. Woe betide you if you do, because the next thing you will feel is the long and pointed end of the umbrella.
Such offenders of wrongly using umbrellas (W.U.U) are easily identified and classed as:
'Regimental Sergeant Major'
'Samurai Jack' (Cartoon caricature)
'Ian Botham' (Cricket legend to the uninitiated)
'Shaka Zulu'. (Shame on you if you have no idea who this man was!)
Here are a couple of tips in how to avoid being clobbered or stabbed by the above suspects:
Walk at a minimal pace (safe) distance: Stating the obvious it would seem, but many a people still fall victim just by not watching their step.
Don't stay in a country where it rains or the sun shines all the time. (Self explanatory)
Destroy all long umbrellas you find and get smaller ones for any male friends you have.
With these simple rules, you just might be able to avoid being lampooned out there.
If you have a moment, drop by to one of my favourite sites for a daily reading:
http://www.rbc.org/odb/odb.shtml
Genuine concern for others is the mark of a great spiritual coach.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Hand gestures+Hippity Hop = Huh???
"And another thing.....
We all have a hand gesture fetish. While arguing, we tend to channel our emotions using our hands and arms to make a point. (Gesticulating, if you will.) Politicians do it all the time, and other PR savvy types. Others use 'subtle' finger gestures to illustrate their anger & frustration about an issue or person that is riling them up. We wave, we signal, and so many other ways to speak a silent language which nearly everyone understands.
The power of the hand gestures is instinctive in us all. Its anthropological semiotics. I'm no behavourial scientist, but Think about it: what was the first thing we did when we came into the world, according to our parents? We either wanted to grab something, and we'd crawl our hands up an imaginery wall (after leaving the warmth of the womb, i'd guess anyone would be disorientated!)
so, yes, gestures and hand symbols work hand in hand (no pun intended)
Which brings me to my question: what the duece is going on with hip-hop type people and their hand gestures?? Why is there the need to have some ridiculous hand pose whenever you try and take their picture? I was on a job yesterday evening, and i had just 20 secs to take a picture of the artist my journalist was interviewing? All i wanted was a good shot, and this dude starts with the hand gestures and all that. This is not the first time that I've encountered this 'contagious phenomenon' amoungst artists, so suffice to say i just had to ask the dude what it's all about it:
Moi: "Ok, can you please explain to me: whats with that hand gesture??"
Him: "Its (and he mutters somthing inaudible)
Moi: " Is is some kind of freemason cult code or what is it?"
Him: (mumbles something inaudible)
I never really did know what he said. I guess its part of a collective sub culture within that area of the music fraternity. Maybe its an evolution of anthropological semiotics within a sub culture genre. What do i know? I'm no Behavourial scientist. Funny thought, though: can you imagine The Tempatations or Barry White greeting each other with such hand gestures?
Oh well.. guess i have to do some more research about that...
PS: THIS IS JUST A LITE & GENERALISED VIEW OF SUCH A TOPIC. I'M SURE THERE IS A MORE INDEPTH ARGUMENT AND STUDY ABOUT SAID MANNERISMS AND SUCH.
We all have a hand gesture fetish. While arguing, we tend to channel our emotions using our hands and arms to make a point. (Gesticulating, if you will.) Politicians do it all the time, and other PR savvy types. Others use 'subtle' finger gestures to illustrate their anger & frustration about an issue or person that is riling them up. We wave, we signal, and so many other ways to speak a silent language which nearly everyone understands.
The power of the hand gestures is instinctive in us all. Its anthropological semiotics. I'm no behavourial scientist, but Think about it: what was the first thing we did when we came into the world, according to our parents? We either wanted to grab something, and we'd crawl our hands up an imaginery wall (after leaving the warmth of the womb, i'd guess anyone would be disorientated!)
so, yes, gestures and hand symbols work hand in hand (no pun intended)
Which brings me to my question: what the duece is going on with hip-hop type people and their hand gestures?? Why is there the need to have some ridiculous hand pose whenever you try and take their picture? I was on a job yesterday evening, and i had just 20 secs to take a picture of the artist my journalist was interviewing? All i wanted was a good shot, and this dude starts with the hand gestures and all that. This is not the first time that I've encountered this 'contagious phenomenon' amoungst artists, so suffice to say i just had to ask the dude what it's all about it:
Moi: "Ok, can you please explain to me: whats with that hand gesture??"
Him: "Its (and he mutters somthing inaudible)
Moi: " Is is some kind of freemason cult code or what is it?"
Him: (mumbles something inaudible)
I never really did know what he said. I guess its part of a collective sub culture within that area of the music fraternity. Maybe its an evolution of anthropological semiotics within a sub culture genre. What do i know? I'm no Behavourial scientist. Funny thought, though: can you imagine The Tempatations or Barry White greeting each other with such hand gestures?
Oh well.. guess i have to do some more research about that...
PS: THIS IS JUST A LITE & GENERALISED VIEW OF SUCH A TOPIC. I'M SURE THERE IS A MORE INDEPTH ARGUMENT AND STUDY ABOUT SAID MANNERISMS AND SUCH.
"So you want to know about": Ba-ba, The Multi coloured sheep
"...and another thing....
When does being 'politically Correct' just become overkill? We live in certain societies where it is important to be sensitive of people's feelings and whatnot. Irrespective, there are always going to be prejudices about one thing or the other. Thats just human nature. It could be based on social, moral or religious beliefs. Now, that doesn't mean that we have a licence to inflame or incite discriminations. On the contrary: its all about educating people or ourselves being enlighted.
Which brings me to some real foolishness going on. According to news reports in the UK, the populour Nursery rhyme 'Ba-Ba Black sheep' has been deemed as insensitive and will therefore be rehashed as 'Ba-ba-Rainbow Sheep'. I mean, what the duece?!?!?! First off, that just doesn't sound right. I don't find anything remotely insulting about that piece. Can you imagine 70's disco group Boney M changing the lyrics to their classic track 'Brown girl' in the ring'? Lord, The 'P.C' Police (no pun intended!) would have a field day!
When does being 'politically Correct' just become overkill? We live in certain societies where it is important to be sensitive of people's feelings and whatnot. Irrespective, there are always going to be prejudices about one thing or the other. Thats just human nature. It could be based on social, moral or religious beliefs. Now, that doesn't mean that we have a licence to inflame or incite discriminations. On the contrary: its all about educating people or ourselves being enlighted.
Which brings me to some real foolishness going on. According to news reports in the UK, the populour Nursery rhyme 'Ba-Ba Black sheep' has been deemed as insensitive and will therefore be rehashed as 'Ba-ba-Rainbow Sheep'. I mean, what the duece?!?!?! First off, that just doesn't sound right. I don't find anything remotely insulting about that piece. Can you imagine 70's disco group Boney M changing the lyrics to their classic track 'Brown girl' in the ring'? Lord, The 'P.C' Police (no pun intended!) would have a field day!
Wayhey!! A positive spin for a change (within a negative story)
"... and another thing...
Ok, its time for one of Ak's 'Aki-sms' and observations..
So, im on the train to work today, reading a copy of the morning newspaper. I'm turning over the pages to avoid any depressing stuff (Hah! Not going to happen!! It's a miracle how newspapers still make a profit, what with all the negativity that they source as news. I guess readers like kind of stuff!) and i turn the paper to a headline that read along the lines of , " Millions retrieved from Heist". Inserted by the corner of said caption is a thumbnail shot of a black man. At that particular moment, I'm thinking to myself "Jeez! What have we done again??" Only to read that the man was actually the chief constable in charge of investigations. What a relief.
Now, you might be wondering what has that got to do with anything? Probably nothing to some, but if your a black man or of any ethnic group living in London, and there's some crime thats been committed, and it's nearly always a given that some punk from your country of origin has 'cocked things up' for the rest of you, you're always muttering and Praying , "Lord, he/she best not be black/green (choose your racial specified colour!) It doesnt help when the media plays up on certain paranoias and reinforce a stereotype. Then again, it doesnt help when people actually give the media something to work with.
(**DISCLAIMER: THESE ARE MY OPINIONS, AND YOU MIGHT LIKE THEM OR NOT. EITHER WAY, I'M WRITING IT!**
Ok, its time for one of Ak's 'Aki-sms' and observations..
So, im on the train to work today, reading a copy of the morning newspaper. I'm turning over the pages to avoid any depressing stuff (Hah! Not going to happen!! It's a miracle how newspapers still make a profit, what with all the negativity that they source as news. I guess readers like kind of stuff!) and i turn the paper to a headline that read along the lines of , " Millions retrieved from Heist". Inserted by the corner of said caption is a thumbnail shot of a black man. At that particular moment, I'm thinking to myself "Jeez! What have we done again??" Only to read that the man was actually the chief constable in charge of investigations. What a relief.
Now, you might be wondering what has that got to do with anything? Probably nothing to some, but if your a black man or of any ethnic group living in London, and there's some crime thats been committed, and it's nearly always a given that some punk from your country of origin has 'cocked things up' for the rest of you, you're always muttering and Praying , "Lord, he/she best not be black/green (choose your racial specified colour!) It doesnt help when the media plays up on certain paranoias and reinforce a stereotype. Then again, it doesnt help when people actually give the media something to work with.
(**DISCLAIMER: THESE ARE MY OPINIONS, AND YOU MIGHT LIKE THEM OR NOT. EITHER WAY, I'M WRITING IT!**
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