TOMORROW

Hope and Despair! 
That is what the mention of the word invokes in me.
Hope that I would accomplish the dreams I have in me. Hope that it will be better than today. Hope based on the patterns of yesterday. Yesterday was better than the day before, and so tomorrow will be better than today. 

And then despair creeps in. It may be better than yesterday but not quite where it should be. Despair brings in other people. Other people doing better and tells me that I am a slow achiever or worse still a failure. Other people that have tried and still trying, and tells me to just join the party without much expectation. 

It may take a while or writing my thoughts (as I am doing now) to remind myself that despair does not make sense and has not proved itself useful in my life or others. Because despair means not trying, and not trying never achieved much.

But hope means to keep trying, to keep believing that tomorrow might just be the day. The day it starts to come together and come alive. Tomorrow might be the day when my prayers are answered, my dreams become reality, the limitations are removed.

In reality, today is yesterday's tomorrow. And today, some prayers were already answered. An idea, life and opportunity to try again. These may not have been my dream but they are part of the dream puzzle.

To make tomorrow what it should be, I choose to apply a generous helping of hope and skip despair, where possible. 

WHAT SHE WANTS, WHAT HE WANTS

He should be taller than me but not too tall for me to tip toe and steal a kiss

Not obese but not slim, just a bit rounded at the edges

Easy on the eyes but not handsome enough to be the belle of our union

A few features that our children could inherit proudly but none to contemplate plastic surgery

Clean but not overly obsessed with kitchens devoid of dirty crockery, can put the toilet seat down

Can and willing to cook but perhaps only a handful of dishes

Plays a musical instrument, preferably the piano, singing tenor will be considered a bonus

Sporty, not overly competitive and would consider an occassional zumba class just to humour me

Financially responsible but wasteful enough to shower me with spontaneous gift and surprises

Employee or employer, but hardworking and intelligent

Intelligent but wise enough to know when to act unintelligent

Considers wealth a tool and not a destination or goal

A believer, prayerful but able to carry out non-preaching conversations

Loves his family but understands that ours comes before his, and of course mine

Enjoys my company, and playtime with our children more than others

Romantic, understands that his attention is the best (not only) gift I need

If I were that man, I will want me to be:

Cute, pretty and lightweight enough to lift when the occasion demands such

Well proportioned body parts, perhaps an elasticated waist line,

Expanding to carry our offsprings and contracting to Cinderella proportions immediately after

Dressed to my liking, slightly suggestive but not revealing

A home-maker, clean, neat, good cook or at least able to direct others to give this appearance

Produce beautiful, perfect offsprings regardless of what contributions I make in sperms

Motherly, nuturing our offsprings

Wifely, capturing my attention in words and deeds

Friendly, share a joke, a story or a moan

Successful, ‘funded’ but still appreciates my efforts at giving

Works, employee or employer, earns enough to meet some routine demands without asking me

Dedicated to the ‘work’ but ensures that ‘they’ all know I am her boss

Understands my work enough to converse but acknowledges my superior knowledge, or pretends to

A reliable support, sharing my burdens, praying my successes into reality

A good sport, understands the offside rule, double fault, birdies and pelotons and yellow jerseys

Enjoys the company of her friends and family but available to me on demand

Perhaps can sing... in tune

The Watermelon Stereotype

The following conversation occurred between me and two 'white' former colleagues of mine:


C: Do you like fried rice?
Moi: Hmmm, yeah. Not my favourite though.
C: Do you like pop?
Moi: What's that? (I knew the meaning from previous visits to Mississippi and reading The Help)
C: It's soda.
Moi: Not really.
C: Do you like watermelon?
Moi: Yes
C: laughed so hard, they were almost crying.
C1: We got to be careful. Isn't that racist?
C2: She knows we are joking



Before I play the victim here, I had just been challenged to a dancing competition, to which I responded that it will be unfair of a black (even as tone deaf as I am) girl to compete with y'all. So I guess they were trying to get back at me.  Unfortunately, I was clueless.



I really wondered why my likeness of watermelon was so funny. I am reading Chimamanda's Americanah and she makes reference to the 'like of watermelon' puzzle. Still wondering, but Wiki explained. It is an American Blacks (sub-classification of blacks by Chimamanda, i.e. not Non-American Blacks) stereotype.
Checked: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watermelon_stereotype



Moral: colour of skin doesn't really determine much more than the colours of clothing that will flatter you and even that differs from person to person.
Cheryl Tweedy Cole Valen.... can dance but Michelle Williams can't.

Where are you from?

Me: Hello! My name is Beautiful, Charming.

New Acquaintance: Oh, hi! I am Local champion. I run things around here but I am nice. I moved to Wonderland with my husband but I am American, Spanish, Korean! Where are you from?

Me: (Thinking! Hmmm, what does this person want to know? Why my skin colour is chocolate brown? Why my hair is kinky or so curly? Why my accent does not fit my other attributes? Why I do not have my fake designer boutique on my shoulder? Or maybe just to find some common ground? But what do I want to make of this potential relationship? Is it going to be superficial or is there a possibility of something deeper or long term coming out of this?) Nigeria

New Acquaintance: (response sheds some clarity on intention)

(Why my skin colour is chocolate brown? Why my hair is kinky or so curly?): I couldn’t really tell if you were African American or African.

I need the next question to determine if there is a friendship to be made here.

(Why my accent does not fit my other attributes?): I could tell, you don’t sound African/Nigerian. I could pick a British/International accent as you spoke. (bear in mind none of these accents exists).

Slightly insulted. Waiting for next question for direction of friendship.

(Why I do not have my fake designer boutique on my shoulder?): Oh nice! What brings you to this country? Work? Whom do you work for? (And the digging continues)

Superficial! I don’t quite know how to be out rightly nasty. Actually I do, but I don’t have the guts to be plain nasty. That’s God working in me.

(Or maybe just to find some common ground?): I was hoping you would say so. I once lived there! Are you from Lagos? You people have the best pineapples. / I have a Nigerian friend. You must be Yoruba with your name.

And that is the beginning of what might become a deep friendship.

While I definitely appreciate people seeking a friendship or just being polite, this question is getting more difficult for me to answer. Not because I am not Nigerian, but because I am not sure where I am from anymore! I was born and bred in Nigeria, so does that make me always from Nigeria? I would have confidently said yes up to 4 years ago. After all, I moved to the UK and all of my history was Nigerian.

During my years of living in the UK, I was surely not English, Welsh or Scottish, and most definitely not Irish. I may have sounded a bit like the English but my accent was neither Manchurian nor Cockney, and it is still similar to no particular English accent. I also had 90% Nigerian friends. I attended Nigerian led churches. I was not only from Nigeria but I still lived mostly as a Nigerian.

I moved to Greece and the question of where I am from was partially confusing. Am I from my country of birth or from my most recent residential location or from all the places that had influenced me? Believe it or not, the UK had left its mark on me. I enjoyed the London lifestyle, including running for buses and trains, shepherd’s pie and Eton mess, queues and even quiet prayers. So when asked where I am from, I often responded, “Nigeria, but I used to live in the UK”.

I was asked this question yesterday in Vienna, and it took me about 5 seconds to respond with “Nigeria but..., Nigeria. I am from Nigeria”. I did not want to tell the person that I am also from the UK because I like order and eating healthy, and that I am also from Greece because I appreciate fresh foods and friendliness.

I wish I could apply the tactics of children and respond with a “Why?” because if I know the reason for the question, I could answer appropriately.

(Why my skin colour is chocolate brown? Why my hair is kinky or so curly?): Nigeria

(Why my accent does not fit my other attributes?): England, of Nigerian origin.

(Why I do not have my fake designer boutique on my shoulder?): NIGERIA! And I have a Gusci (not Gucci if you look closely) handbag for sale, in the boot of my credit card funded Porsche Cayenne.

(Or maybe just to find some common ground?): Nigeria, England and Greece. Take your pick. What state (USA) are you from? Are you from Catalonia or Madrid?

I am most definitely from Nigeria but also from other places! Proudly Nigerian!

LONDON

Pumps, brogues, sneakers, Timberlands, killer heels, flip flops
Cobbled roads, tarred roads, bridges, concourse
Click, clack, dragging feet, thump-thump
People going about their business
The sounds of London

Hoodies, fascinators, tailored pants, sagging jeans, peplum dresses, ballerina skirts
Haute couture, flea markets, high street, designers and of course Primark
Seamless, strapless, backless, buttoned, high waisted, double breasted
Worn or draped over bodies
The look of London

Saloons, hatchbacks, double deckers, bendies, black cabs, cycles, tandem bikes
Qashqais, Jaguars, Fords, Mercedes, BMWs, Minis and even Rovers
Zooming, cruising, hooting, whizzing past
Ferrying people to and fro
It's London on the move

Nando's, Hakassan, The Ivy, Benares, Costa's, Millie's, All Bar One
Goulash, paella, Virgin Mojito, decaf mocha, black pudding, jungle curry
Sip it, roll it, chew it, knock it, bottoms up
Quenching thirst and keeping hunger pangs at bay
The taste of London

Hyde Park, Bishop's Park, Hampstead Heath, Richmond Park
Underground, subways, embankments, canals
Sweat, garlic breath, colognes, perfumes and Arabian Oud
Repulsive or enticing
The scent of London

London! Where you are free to be
You don't have to comply
Because being a misfit means you fit just right in

I LOVE LONDON!

Still Standing

Even though I had a tough childhood with disagreeing parents, I can still dream of a loving & happy marriage.
Even though I wasn't the most popular in school, I can still accept people's friendship.
Even though I graduated with a 2:2, I've had brilliant jobs.
Even though I suffered from asthma, I can run/walk 5K in less than 40 minutes.
Even though I was involved in a car accident and the car somersaulted with 3 kegs of petrol in the trunk, I survived without a scratch.
Even though I went to bed hungry some nights, I can now afford to dine out.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow death, I shall fear no evil!

I guess my Father says what He means and means what He says:
For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV)

Written October 2012

Jets, Jaguars and Jewelry

Written November 2012

A Nigerian pastor celebrated the anniversary of his service in ministry and his congregation bought him a gift, which happened to be a private jet. The Nigerian public is incensed - christians, muslims, pagans, atheists all decrying the recent spate of jet owning pastors.

Before I attempt to dissect the matter, my view is that if he wants a jet and buys or accepts one, it is not illegal and it is left for him and his congregation to justify their actions in their heads, hearts and before God on the day of reckoning.  And also work out how to afford the maintenance and operational costs.

Some have complained that this acquisition is morally distasteful in the midst of poverty in the country. Good point but I cannot help but think about the cars, gold, wristwatches etc. that these complainers own and the irony in their outcry. If you cannot give a thousand naira to the beggar, I doubt that you will give a million. How many of these people spend their time and money on helping the poor? What have you done for the less priviledged lately?

Some complaints have been about the destinations that the jets will be flying to.  How many have tried preaching to their neighbours or the okada drivers in your neighbourhood or even your drivers?

Some have suggested that the jets are funded by tithes and offerings from the church's coffers.  I believe these are just speculations but if it was funded from the church's coffers, the onus is on members of the church to complain and demand an explanation or to take their tithes and offerings and go elsewhere. Unfortunately, I doubt there is a way to get your tithes & offerings refunded like in the UK. If it was funded by a select few who paid from their excess resources then we need to let them be.  Having donated to such gift purchases in the past, I can say that there are all sorts of reasons behind these sacrificial givings. Considering that these people are smart enough to make money we should trust them to spend their money.

Quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of people pointing fingers without any real justification for their moral high ground. Most missionaries that I know of are so worried about reaching the unsaved and guiding their children that they really don't have time to help some pastor figure out what he should or should not be doing!

Perhaps if these people are so skilled in working out others lives, can you help me out?
Are my challenges today the result of my past sins?
Can I be truly forgiven for a deliberate sin that I am currently contemplating?
How do I forgive someone so close to me that has hurt me, when I struggle to forgive myself?

One more thing, I don't believe that pastors or bishops etc will be judged by a different constitution or in the Supreme court of heaven. We have all been given the same commission and bible to guide us as Christians and we will all face judgement!