This is a belated post.
As most of my fellow citizens of blogville know, it's the fourth of July tomorrow - America's Independence day. The most famous democracy in the world is celebrating and the whole world will participate one way or the other.
It'll be all over the internet, the international news networks and the satellite TV shows. And as a lover of democracy, I'm happy. But as a guy who now lives my own country's capital, where I can observe firsthand the mood of my countrymen, I'm sad. We are so negative and cynical. I ask myself again and again how we became so cynical a people.
I've found that some of the most cynical Nigerians seem to be in Abuja. They'll tell you who did what, stole what slept with who to get what and so on and so forth. And instead of coming together to work for change in our country, these same negative people seem satisfied to live lives resigned to the very problems they see.
People in Abuja regularly interact in churches, mosques, clubs, bars, movie theatres, hotel lobbies, and car parks and in almost all these places I've found that it seems to be a thing of pride to know the negative inside story. Everybody wants to tell you what is really going on at the senate or at the presidency or even in less hallowed government chambers.
I was commenting to my cousin about the NTA DG prior to Ben Bruce who stated to my hearing that it would be impossible for NTA to start 24hr broadcasting. His reason? Their equipment could barely keep them on air as it were and to go 24hrs would finally kill them. Yet, barely a year later NTA was giving us 24hr service. Thanks to Ben Bruce.
Another kinsman in the room immediately let me know that the only reason Bruce was able to achieve that was because his appointment was at the behest of the late Stella Obasanjo who wanted someone who would give her the sort of personal coverage she wanted. According to my cynic, NTA had never before or since received the sort of allocations it did under Obasanjo.
I tried to counter that even with money, one still needed vision and was about to point to Silverbird Cinemas as proof of the triumph of vision over impossible odds. But I was cut off as my cynic let me know that those ideas had been on the table for years but Bruce merely reaped the benefits of his contacts. He also implied that Bruce made money during his tenure and pointed to the Galleria as proof.
I was sickened. Both by his odious cynicism and by the possibility that he was right (hey, I'm not naïve). But still, must we continue to seek out the bad in every good thing? I mean c'mon… what you seek you will usually find. And I'm tired of finding a corrupt tale in every good deed.
Remember the way DSTV bestrode our DTH satellite TV scene like a colossus? Remember the way they dealt with any and all challengers till the last Minister of Information, Frank Nweke Jr, almost single-handedly ensured that DSTV could not claim sole broadcast rights to high demand foreign channels in Nigeria? Remember how that opened the door for HiTV to become the first real challenger to DSTV in almost two decades?
I was so happy when that happened and Nweke Jr was my main man. I actually look forward to meeting him to tell him so. Well, a new acquaintance I made two days after I arrived in Abuja revealed to me that Nweke Jr is a major shareholder in HiTV. The news was one more unwanted stone in my rice if you know what I mean. Now I'm wondering – was he a shareholder before or after campaigning so astutely to bring DSTV's reign to an end? I wonder if he's conscientious enough to admit to the negatives in that achievement. Either way, he and Toyin Subair are two people I'd like to take to lunch someday.
Speaking of lunch, I was at Chicken Republic with a friend after church this past Sunday and he complained about how we Nigerians just love huge profits in the short run even if it meant fewer people could buy things. His example was a guy importing cars at about 800,000 only to resell at 2million. He felt that was outrageous. I agreed. Then I asked him about a house he purchased and remodeled at a cost of 30million and had just offered to a buyer the week before at 90million.
He smiled and admitted he was just as bad. At least he was conscientious enough to admit that he was a part of the problem. I wish we would all be that way. I wish more people would seek to change themselves first. I wonder how many of my fellow bloggers would be proud of the source of the money that sent them abroad to school. I wonder how many people reading this would start standing up to parents, uncles and aunties who are obviously living on money they haven't earned. It's for all our sakes including that uncle's.
I was at a house in Asokoro belonging to a former minister of finance and I could not help feeling a rising sense of outrage at the obvious wealth. Every single furniture and fitting in the place was imported; probably with my money if you believe the rumors. I took photos to show my wife. It was a lovely home. Don't get me wrong – I don't begrudge people the right to live well. But we have heard the stories and people have eyes. You can't suddenly start spending money and not become a target. And the way people gathered across the street to watch this minister's family move in made me realize how unsafe they truly were.
May these grenade throwing kidnappers and fighters in the south-south not ever realize how easy it would be to hit the real thieves at home in Abuja. Some of us bloggers could become collateral damage. I'm tired of being negative. I want to see change. I will keep blogging for change, talking for change and living the change I advocate. I hope maybe in my own way I can encourage others to do the same.
I'm not alone in this. We all want to be truly happy for our nation on it's next birthday. We want to stop hearing the noise of generators. We want to be able to rent or buy a house at reasonable prices. We want to not overpay for a car. We want to not fear our police. We want to not suspect every campaigning minister or doubt every government initiative. And we can too!
We start by not throwing trash on the road. We continue by not going late to work and by asking what else we need to do. We keep it up by at least being nice to the next person and by never being rude to anyone. We take it to new heights by learning to apologize and by offering to help others solve problems. By seeking and finding ways to get money that we cannot tell the whole world we got. It's up to us bloggers, regular readers and casual surfers. It's up to us government workers, private businesspeople and traders. It's up to us O.
So, having typed all this to the rhythm of the generator let me conclude. To one of the countries that give its people those things that we all want I say… Happy Birthday Yanki!
I was thinking the other day about how short our collective memories can be. So much that ought to stand as a warning for all time in the annals of our collective consciousness gets pushed into apparent irrelevance.
In this nation, we've seen dictators turn into raging democrats, junta dons reaping more democratic dividends than anyone person deserves, chiefs proven to be thieves and thieves turned into chiefs.
I just heard that former IG of police, the legendary Tafa Balogun, was conferred with a chieftaincy title in his hometown. All I could think was… why?
This is the same person who stole billions of naira, confessed and was even convicted and did (soft) time in prison – the biggest dishonor imaginable to a policeman not to mention a police chief. And they honored him.
He embarrassed his office, brought ridicule to members of his family and shamed his community. And the elders of the same community in their wisdom turned around and lifted his hand as a worthy son to be emulated. God help us all.
His is not the only case of such irritating foolishness brought about by a combination of communal myopia and selective amnesia, but it certainly is one of the most galling particularly since it represents a new low – now even the convicted government thieves can expect chieftaincy titles.
I recall when Bayelsa's former governor DSP Alamieyeseigha was turbaned in Katsina state. It was a carnival. Those who attended said they had never seen so much money on display. I recently saw a towel commemorating the event, typically I had to take a snapshot of the poor old thing.
It seemed life could only get better and better for Alams. Instead he ended up as the poster boy for corruption in governance and gave us our most monumental national embarrassment ever when he fled the authorities in the UK. Our Nigerianness hit a new low that day.
Imagine if our traditional rulers would resist the pressure to honor those of questionable character and dubious financial means. Imagine if our people would let it be known what they really thought of such people's actions. Imagine if our fathers would all refuse to attend such debacles. I doubt that will change in a hurry, everyone wants to eat free food and carry towel souvenirs home.
Thank God for the father of a friend who turned down the invitation to attend Chief Tafa's event on account of what people would think of him – a noted criminologist – fraternizing with the biggest criminal ever caught and punished in recent history. May our fathers not shame us in their lifetimes.
Here's a thought: Yar'Adua was governor when Alams, a rumored police thief turned governor, was turbaned the kjhgdhg of Katsina. Now he's president when a convicted police thief is honored as a chief. Sigh… I wonder if my friend got another towel this time.
Hey, I'm back. It's been awhile. So much has been going on in my life recently and no link at work for like 2 weeks (gasp!). I don't what makes me a magnet recently for scam mails O. (could it be spending time on forums and stuff?)
I just got one of those intelligent fraud mails. I say "intelligent" cause unlike the ones that land in your box with enough zeroes to make you dizzy, this was a "500,000.00 GBP" mail.
I logged into my mailbox and since I'm currently addicted to facebook, I didn't even glance at anything without the word facebook in it.
And I must say this; I'm a very, very bad target for these scammers and 419ers. It took me a full hour to even open the mail and 3hours to notice that I had won the "lottery".
Send me mails and I literally don't notice them. Call me and I try to help you find a way to do what you want to do. Imagine me telling a guy on the phone "Why don't you call the police to help you?"
I once was met by a tag team pair of 419ers. I met one guy who claimed to have come from Sierra Leone with goods for one lady and couldn't return with them. Another who played the suspicious passer-by. I was such a bad mark that they just left me alone.
But these guys are everywhere. It's like they're trying to get me with all they've got. I've been accosted on the street, I joined facebook and got a phony call that same day, and now I'm back to getting emails. Make una pray for me O.
When I decided to become a blogger, I took note of some potential challenges to my new pastime: money for café visits being the chief one.
Then I got a laptop and found out I live within range of a commercial hotspot. Nice. Then I came to work with my new toy one day and found out our neighbors have a free Wi-Fi thing going for their staff. Nicer. So browsing money is no longer a problem, most times.
Blogging now has new challenges chief of which is the perennial (a foreign paper called it "perplexing") power problem called PHCN. Once the power goes, my time becomes limited to however long it takes me to wrap up my thought flow before the laptop yawns into darkness.
I'm also beginning to realize how much the power challenges influence my blog content.
Blogging in the darkness of my home at night brings out this guerrilla mentality. I feel like the underdog in a fight and sometimes, like an underdog, I feel like I'm losing.
So out comes the rage of the repressed and it fuels my righteous rage at any and all perceived injustices and abuse. It also fuels my expressions of pain and despair.
Switch on the power and suddenly, the world is a better place. I'm more likely to be optimistic and inclined to see the good that our leaders are doing. I'll connect with friends on Facebook, chat with a buddy across the globe and say a prayer for world peace. Ok not quite world peace, but you get the picture.
Simply put, I realize that my worldview sometimes depends on whether I sit in darkness or light and on whether my air-conditioner is contributing heat or chilling the room. I only wish we Nigerians at home would realize that this is probably true of many of us Nigerians at home. If we understood this, then we Nigerians at home would also realize that it is up to all of us Nigerians at home to face our respective responsibilities and make this a better country.
Can you guess my mood right now? Here's a hint… my air-conditioner is on but it's struggling.
(Honestly, just 5 minutes later, while proof-reading this post, PHCN took the light!)
April fool's day crept up on me and when it finally came it caught me unawares. That was so upsetting. Not because I forgot the day per se, but rather because I missed the chance to plan an elaborate revenge for the prank my wife played on me two years ago.
A good April fool's day gag depends on one important factor – the hook; the reason why the gag is believable. Get a good hook going and you've got your sucker. And I got suckered. I got served. I got totally punk'd. My baby got me goooood.
When we were going out, I had some competition. Now for those who don't know… my girl is beautiful. And she's always had to deal with unwanted attention from all sorts of men. I said men. Not boys O… MEN! Men of all categories – single and married, rich and poor, students and businessmen, random guys and family links. It's the family links that caused one heartache
My girl's real close to her folks so their opinions really count with her. And as the daughter of the King of her village (yeah, I got me my very own princess), her folks kept dealing with suitors from far and near. Visitors came sometimes daily with all sorts of wines to ask for the princess' hand in marriage for some son, nephew or other male suitor. Imagine! Trying to beat a poor player at his game? For where!
Now I was aware that though her folks weren't the type to impose their choice, they would have liked at least one of their two daughters to marry an indigene of their village. Her older sis had gotten hitched "outside the villa" and yours truly is a black brother from across the big river and several states. So, to maintain my solid footing, my game plan was to make sure baby girl was feeling me above and beyond any so-called suitors. And that's how she got me.
Before this incident I had this image of a sweet, innocent pearl. Someone who enjoyed the occasional joke but nothing extreme y'know. I now know better, anyway this is what happened:
About 7pm my phone rings. It's my girl. Unusually, it's our first call for that day. Homeboy was a bit tight for cash so I was saving my little credit for some late-night phone love.
Me – Hello babe, what's up?
She – Hi, nothing much. I just came in.
Me – Really? From where?
She – Just around…
Me – Sounds boring
She – Boring? No O! In fact I had such a good time. I had a surprise visitor. Remember that our neighbor that I said told my mom that she wanted her nephew to marry me
Okay, now I pause. Is it a good thing to remember this or a bad thing to have slight memory loss? Anyhow sha…
Me – Yeah, what about her? She came around?
She – Not her? Him! The guy came to see me at school today.
My curiosity is piqued; guy what guy? Can't recall anything about this guy. Ok, feign interest.
Me – He did? Wow! From where?
She – Abuja. Actually he just came in from the U.S. and decided to check on me.
Me – You've never met him right?
She – No. this was the first time. He really tried finding the house. And he's so nice and funny! I could hardly stop laughing around him.
Ok, small alarm bell ringing. Does she think of me as funny? I suddenly can't remember. When last did I make her really laugh? I can't remember. She's paused. I'm telling myself: Boy! Speak! Say something… something funny!
Me – Maybe he should go into comedy.
Bad move I tell myself, you sound sarcastic.
She – As if you were there. I told him the same thing.
Now I'm feeling relaxed. After all, this clown may be funny, and everybody knows funny is important in getting the girl, but funny alone ain't enough. I decided to dig a little.
Me - Sounds like a nice guy, what's he like?
She – (slight pause) He was nothing like I expected. He's tall and fair and really good-looking.
Whoa! Hold up! I'm taller than my girl but she she's tall too so the taller the guy, the better. Plus I remember her telling me she had always planned to marry a fair-skinned guy. And me I no even do mistake fair small. Oya… just laugh small and keep digging.
Me – (chuckling) Really good-looking hehn? Is he taller than me?
Hope she doesn't notice I'm comparing.
She – I think so… yeah he is.
Crap!
Me – So where'd you guys go?
She – Dolphin
I start calculating… I've taken her there a few times. No panic. For a first time outing, e go hard them spend pass N2500. No wahala… I fit double am next time I reach. Oya… dig! Must get info!
Me – So after he stuffed you what next?
She – Nothing. We just drove back and he dropped me.
Ok… dude has a ride.
Me – Aah. Cool! What car does he drive?
She – Benz E-class
(Crap!)
Me – Really… he owns an E-class?
She – Yeah. He said he just bought it as he came back. It looked quite new.
(Double Crap!)
She – He said he could give me a ride back to the village if I want to go see my parents when we go on break.
Ok O! Alarm don blow! What do I say now?
Me – You sure you should go with him?
I was looking for shallow water here but it was only getting deeper. Stupid question. He's a family friend's nephew from the same village for God's sake. OF COURSE SHE SHOULD TAKE HIS OFFER OF A FREE RIDE HOME.
She – Of course. Free ride. Correct ride sef. You remember I told you how bad the roads are to my place.
Me - Yeah I remember.
She – And do you know the coolest thing he did? Even though he has money, he didn't try to show off by giving me money.
Hehn? Really? I didn't know before now. Fine naija babe that is more impressed when a rich bobo doesn't give her money? Ok baby, just wait let me show this guy first, then I go impress you die.
But men, this brother was broke and thinking furiously. Kai, I just have to erase this bobo's memory from her mind before she goes on break to gist momsie the "latest".
Oya… time for calculation. If I can borrow N5000 for snacks, a small gift should cost like N3000, a full tank N4000… wait O. E-class? I gats borrow car cause this my 1982 Honda one-door no go do.
She – So anyway, I have to go now, my credit's almost finished. Can you send me a recharge card?
Me – (barely listening) sure.
She – Ok. Goodnight.
Me – yeah, goodnight. Love you babe. Miss you like crazy.
Click!
Ok, sharply. For the next few minutes I was just strategizing. Call Emeka to borrow his car for an emergency trip this weekend. I no fit get E-class but that my guys new 207 no too bad now. Abi?
Then the phone rang. I check… it's my babe.
Me – Yeah babe?
She – APRIL FOOL!
Me – What?! (Then it sank in) WHAT?! You mean you…
She – HAHAHAHAHAHA… I got you!
Click!
And I've been looking for how to get revenge ever since. The good news is: this April fool married her eventually inspite of the real and imagined competitors. So what does that make her? LOL.
On my way to work this morning a BMW 5 series was driving a bit erratically ahead of me. The dude was moving slowly when he should have moved fast and moving side to side so I couldn't pass him. I dragged on behind fuming – I was late enough already.
BMW was moving with all the characteristics of a guy with a lot on his mind and believe me, you don't want your wheels anywhere near such a fellow's car.
I remember when my brother faced off with one such chap last year. My bro was stuck in traffic heading down constitution road when all the cars in front of him slowed rather suddenly and he had to stand on his brakes to avoid a crash. But the guy behind just ran into him like the line was still moving. Lil bro came down, looked over the car, and waited for the guy to say something. You know how we do it in Naija - no "oyibo repete", just fix am.
Anyway, the dude who hit him steps out of the car looking quite dazed. My bro tried to engage the guy in meaningful discussion but it was hopeless – the man was only physically present. It took the other two passengers in the car to explain to my bro that the guy's wife had jus miscarried their twins. In fact, the little corpses were in the boot of the car (I've wondered about that ever since I heard this tale), neither of them with him could drive so he had to drive himself in this traumatic time etc, etc.
Well, my brother is human and was extremely sympathetic but still, the car was not his and he didn't have the cheese to fix it before the owner saw it. Anyway to summarize this digression the guy paid and my car has had a strange gait ever since.
I know it's a strange tale but that's what my brother said happened. Although to be frank, lil bro could have backed the car into a fence cause he was eyeballing some chick. I guess I'll never know.
So anyway, not wanting a similar scenario, I gave BMW a wide berth – who knew whether the guy had lost twins too. That's when I noticed the Arsenal FC sticker on the back of his car.
HAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!
I couldn't help it, I burst into laughter. An ass'nal fan! After the Gunners loss yesterday to Liverpool, no wonder he was miserable. I eventually got past him and reached the office. Now I was looking for the ass'nal fans among my colleagues. There they were, somewhat muted, but there nonetheless. One fellow had his head in his hands as though he had a headache.
Sorry o! I said to him and he immediately launched into an angry tirade about the referee, Senderos, the foolishness of leaving Cesc Fabregas alone to mark the sturdier Ryan Babel and the need to overhaul the defenses of the team.
I ached to tease and taunt him but I couldn't bear to do so lest ManYoo be jinxed.
As I went upstairs to my own office, I realized BMW had really lost twins – first the Premiers League and the Champions League. Sorry O eyin ara Ass'nal.
NigComSat-1 during pre-launch tests at Xichang launch center, China 
$312million NigComSat-1 being launched into space
Oh wow man. I mean like WOW! They got me. Those old liars in the PDP got me good. I mean really, really good. I'm ashamed to admit I was got so good that I actually believed they were going to have a "free and fair" election of national officials into their own party. Since they couldn't even get that right, what does that say of the way they'll handle future elections since you can't give what you don't have?
Every indicator said it would likely be the same 'ol same 'ol stuff. But when Oga presido said everyone would have a level playing field I believed him. AIT had it live from about midday and there they all were in their ridiculous party aso ebi. The big dogs came in, took their seats and the proceedings began.
That's the last thing I recall 'cos I was busy on chatting with my friend Uju over in Jalingo. We had a blast for about four hours and in that time, while my back was turned, I got shafted. All Nigerians did.
Winners were declared without a single ballot being cast. And apparently President Yar'Adua took off to attend the funeral of the Emir of Katsina. Oh c'mon man, funeral or no funeral you should have been there if only so we could be justified in blaming you for the mess. After all like someone once said, let the dead bury their dead in other words: prioritize!
One more thing... I can't wait for these governors to go to jail already and stop messing with things everywhere. A bunch of them were marching around the whole place with their last minute choice stopping every few minutes to raise his hands and acknowledge cheers from their selected delegates. Check out the full report on Thisday.
Granted it was probably the best guy who got chosen considering the fact everyone saw frontfunner Sam Egwu as OBJ's boy and also that all hell would have broken loose if Anyim Pius Anyim had won (OBJ would have had kittens!) but still if those old men there could not have VOTED the best man in then what kind of democracy are we building.
It pains me to see old men lying openly so you can imagine the bile I had to choke down while listening to those of them who had the temerity to come on air to tell us that the consensus arrangement (or was it arrangee) was a sign that their party was a "matured party" or a "unified party" or some other load of bull. Argh! Somebody please line those guys up and flog them. Flog them all!
We had our hopes up and we got a bum deal! I feel like tearing up my dad's membership card. Forget these guys jo. Down with PDP!
P.S. In case you were actually interested, Ogbulafor won the PDP chairmanship (s)election.
Now I'm not trying to come off as a snob or anything but I really do think I've got pretty good taste.
I can even make bold to say that I have on occasion been consulted for my advice on a variety of subjects from clothes to cars to movies, music and even people. Normally on those last two, I wouldn't necessarily stand up to be counted as a connoisseur but c'mon… even I can spot a really bad bet.
Remember when Eadris Abdulkarim came up with what he hoped would be his hit single "Jagga Jagga"? Talk about a backlash!
It was so bad that President Obasanjo trashed his song in public. Ouch! Thank God for SSS guys or Eadris would have caught 'Baba' at an airport to give him the 50cent treatment.
So anyway, after that well-intetioned song bombed, I never thought I'd hear a song miss it that badly again. But I did!
I just happened to catch this music show on TV where Mama Gee was performing. Now I was thinking it would be nice opportunity to finally hear her sing. I'd been missing her performances and if I'd ever heard her on the radio before this, I'd never known it was her.
She began her number and I was trying to enjoy it through NTAs bad live concert-to-TV sound production. It was tough going till she got to the chorus, which came through quite clearly.
(I go shak my moi-moi… I go share the national cake… I no go chop alone… you go chop, I go chop)
I couldn't believe it!
Let me clearly state here that I'm not a music critic. I'm just a listener... with a blog... who likes to call a spade a spade and not a big spoon.
I'd really like to believe that the message of that song is that government should not withhold good things from the populace; if that was her intention, then great.
But unfortunately what came across from the song is that Mama Gee will be a more generous politician. And that only means she'll be a bigger thief who will 'chop' and turn a blind eye to others who "chop"
Songs like Mama Gee's just show that some Nigerian artistes still don't understand that they have a vital part to play in giving our nation a much needed image makeover. And that charity begins at home.
Songs that give the impression of winking at our international reputation for crime and corruption don't help matters. Actually, Olu Maintain's song 'Yahoozee' falls into this category. (But at least, that was such a cool club jam that we all forgave him).
Unfortunately, the song uses that time-tested formula for getting a hit single on the Nigerian market. By repetitively using lines like 'shak my moi-moi' and 'you go chop, I go chop', Mama Gee may have a hit with a sad moral undertone.
Believe me the system works - remember Daddy Showkey? 'Make una clap for Dyna' Yeah I thought so.
Expected more from somone with her exposure but hey, we all mess up from time to time right. By the way, having seen the way Yar'adua is handling the Health Ministry scandal, one hopes he doesn't take offence at this song!
Now get this:
Amazing! finally a politician stupid enough to do his own dirty work. Oh what a rarity! What a special guy. The arrogant twit should be put on display for other Nigerians to admire his IQ.
One wonders what the guy was thinking:
Maderi - Who does she think she is? Does she know who I am? I'm a member of the PDP. I'm a member of the state House of Reps. Nonsense! Shegiya! My boys will deal with her. Bloody woman.
Silly guy probably went there with a little money to smooth things over with the cops who tried to arrest his goons.
They should lock him up and forget the key. Throw him in the female prison for good measure; I hear they got some baad chicks there.
Watching CNN these days stirs up great feelings of admiration for America and its democracy. More so when I see the passion in the eyes of those involved. And I don't mean in the eyes of the politicians. No, I'm talking about the man or woman in the street. They seem to get so into in the process don't they? They follow everything… the issues, the health of the candidates, the debates, the candidates' proclivities. EVERYTHING! They seem so involved, and that's far more than I can say for myself and a great number of my countrymen.
Now don't get me wrong. I registered to vote, I voted, I rejoiced when Yar'Adua won ('cos I voted Yar'Adua, not PDP); I even admit I monitored the delivery of judgment by the presidential election tribunal. Who didn't?
Lots of people listened to the verdict on their radios and watched proceedings live on their TVs. I listened on the car radio myself while on the move (although all I vividly recall is the laughter that greeted the citing of Bush vs. Gore during the delivery of the ruling). However to be perfectly frank it was curiosity more than any real sense of involvement that kept my mind drifting from my work to the Court of Appeal Abuja.
From the beginning of the entire process, we were made to feel more like spectators than participators. There was all the talk of anointing a successor etc. Some of us had to watch our favored candidates eat humble pie at Eagle Square during the PDP primary. Then there was the campaign process which only affected me on two occasions. 
The first time was when I had to veer off the road to avoid being hit by a crazy okadaman screaming "Sai Buhari!"
And the second time was when I was stuck in traffic from Independence Way to Ahmadu Bello Stadium because 'Baba' had come to hold up the hand of a man I was already supporting. (Ah ah! Babaa, ok, vote Yar'Adua. We get it – you're preaching to the choir here!)
But through the whole time that the electioneering barely grazed us, the voting almost excluded us and the announcement of votes missed us totally (did you have light?) all we could do was sit and watch.
I had observed the numerous fallouts of the OBJ-Atiku wars, I had observed the PDP infighting, and I had observed Buhari's fight with everyone. So I was only continuing my assigned (or is it resigned role) in Nigerian Politics by curiously observing the election brouhaha.
"Do you have an office t-shirt for the trade fair?" my boss asked.
Somewhere in my subconscious my spider sense went off. I thought of my faded office polo top that I got exactly a year ago for the last trade fair. I last saw it adorning the luscious sleeping form of my wife.
Then I thought of my friend Yinka and her spiffy looking Diamond Bank t-shirt. Oh no!
"It's quite faded sir."
"Really?" he mumbled, and he pulled out a slightly less faded version from a drawer. "Wash that and use it tomorrow." Great!
Not that the t-shirt is the problem. It's this whole trade fair thing.
Attending the Kaduna Trade Fair is usually not a bad experience. You get free tickets, refreshments and the chance to rub minds with visitors and fellow participatants. But I know that there's really one overriding reason my middle-aged senior colleagues want me there. I'm young, strong and junior in rank. Yep, I'm the gofer.
Every office has a gofer. Gofers are a trade fair necessity. They're the ones who're there to fetch this and carry that all over the place. And they come in all shapes, sizes and sexes.
Some companies hire temps or part-time staff. Others, like mine, just hand you a used t-shirt. And nothing is off limits.
Official display items need setting up? They call you. Someone forgot a big box of$ fliers? They send you. Oga bought a new refrigerator for his wife? Guess who's back breaks carrying it through the doors of his house? that's right... you! And that's just for the male gofers.
Anyway, if I gotta go then at least I'll be looking pretty spiffy too; I've a got new office t-shirt that no one knows about.
No water running out the taps in the morning. Forgot to fill up the water-drum. I’m able to fetch two bowls so I make do.