MUSIC AND ME

Sitting today, my mind raced back to mid-2002 which was officially the first year of uni. I call it the first year because we had previously gone through the famed Pre-Degree Science Programme at Ladoke Akintola University of Technology (LAUTECH).  That academic programme was a foundational one through which aspiring students gained admission at the time. It was a way of bypassing the Almighty Unified Matriculation Examination (UME), now known as UTME, and it helped many of us give the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) the middle finger back then.

Those were days when many of my friends starting from Wale and the many others that we were more or less a crew – Loko, Femi, Oyo, Oye, Segzy, Popeson, Sola, Piro, and the list goes on and on, were leaving home for the first time. Having previously had my first three years of secondary school at Olivet Heights Oyo, leaving home was not so strange in its entirety despite returning to Ibadan and becoming a day student while I sojourned at the great Wesley College of Science, an institution of as much value as history.

This post already started with some digressions! Blame me not, it is me talking with my writing. Wale, my bosom friend of over three decades and four years serenaded us with Born To Do It, Craig David’s hit album that ruled the airwaves in the early 2000s. Let me already raise my hand and say I am not so much of a music person. Despite this obvious fact, there are songs that I know because the people around me got to listen to them a lot.

That was when Nigerian hip-hop was fast gaining ground. Talk of Plantashun Boiz which had the trio of 2face, Black Face and Faze; Remedies (Eedris, Tony Montana and Eddy); Olu and Tolu Maintain; Artquake and the others who were becoming very popular and accepted. Along with these guys, my people listened to Nelly and Ashanti, JaRule and Ashanti, Missy Elliot and others of their ilk. Wale Ajala was a massive Shaggy fan so much so that we used it to differentiate him from my other Wale. He became Wale Shaggy while Wale was either Wale or Nackson, a tag he has had since his secondary school days. In fact, Peter preferred to call him Nackson back then.

The non-conformist me however did not tow their line. I was hooked on Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey’s philosophical songs and ensured that I bought different volumes of his Evergreen Songs. For all the love Wale had for hip-hop and other genres, he was a massive Orlando Owoh fan too. For me, it was mostly Ebenezer Obey or Sunny, and both of those were in the absence of anything from my fav, Lagbaja!

I was so much in love with Lagbaja that I could sing all the tracks in the We and Me album. To make it sweeter, tracks like Konko Below, Nothing for You and Tokunbo were trending everywhere in South West Nigeria, and even as far as Port Harcourt. During my Industrial Training in Port Harcourt in 2006, I picked up the Africano album along with other albums like Westlife Bootleg and Styl Plus’ reigning album at the time whose title I cannot remember now.

Being a Church boy, I have always had access to lots of faith-based music. However, rap and very fast music are not really my thing. It has never been, it may never be! With Nifemi’s interest in music after we watched High School Musical in 2008, he started listening to Mali Music and some other guys and tried to influence me. Still, those were not my kind of songs, they were too fast and I preferred something with a slower tempo. I would play Donnie McClurkin, Mary Mary and Cece Winans whose ‘I Promise’ was played on my wedding day as we had the nuptial dance.

These days, I still love my old Obey songs and interestingly, K1’s trending E Maa Yonu Simi is my ringing tune these days while my second line has Arsenal’s North London Forever rings out when you call my other line. My taste in music is weird like that. I can be loving one not-so-popular musician when everyone is singing the praises of a trending musician. For instance, Ayob played me Black Magic in 2014 and I got hooked on him so much so that if I want to do something creative and it seems like it is not flowing, I simply start playing the album and it arouses me till there is a dampness at the source of my creativity.

I do not listen to Black Magic again these days, I hardly listen to much music these days really. Music can be therapeutic but for me, writing is more therapeutic and it replaces music but I get to find my music per time. Right now, Elizavocat and her songs are doing it for me. The way she serenades me while I drive is something I cannot quite explain yet.

However, if you see Lagbaja anywhere, tell him I will still come after him because he did not let me have the chance to visit Motherlan’. The last two albums still sit pretty in my car and I have them ripped on my PC, hoping I won’t get charged for piracy sha.

If you see me listening to some music that you are not used to, just know that it is what is reigning and meeting my musical needs at that time. It may change to another song or album tomorrow. Now someone says this guy is not a child of God again. No vex ehn, I don’t have a playlist. I just listen to what works for me.

Tomorrow, we meet again.

WEDDINGS, BRIDAL TRAINS, AND BEST MAN DUTIES

Featured Image: Ablad and Vero

Remember, Saturdays are for owambes, especially weddings. It is only fitting that we toast to the weekend by reminiscing on weddings and the thing with bridal trains which brought about me engaging in some Groomsmen and Best Man duties. In fact, this is what set the tone for my (unfinished) web series which I titled Best Man Duty.

Before we dive in, I’d like to heartily congratulate my newly wedded cousin, Biodun Adekanmi, the one we call Ablad, and his beautiful wife Veronica. May this phase of your lives come with plenty blessings.

Requests came from my friends in the early 2010s to be part of their bridal trains as Groomsmen. Why won’t it be so? I was one of the most eligible bachelors at the time so it was no surprise. Sometime in February 2012, Pastor Sogo got hitched and it was a whole team of SPAC young men. The designation for that epoch-making occasion was Men of Honour, which was the trio of Abot, Emmanuel Utulu and me. It was fun, but I had to run back to work that evening to run the fifth day of my night shift.

After that, I more or less became a professional Groomsman and Best Man. A few events here and there, with great memories that have refused to fade. Being on the same Bridal Train has given me friends too.

2013 December, I had a busy December. To be specific, there was a wedding for me to attend each Saturday that month. Of the four, I attended three; of the three, I was one of the Groomsmen at one, the Best Man at the second and a friend/family of the couple of the third. While I would have enjoyed being one of the Groomsmen at Benjamin Igboekwu and the adorable Florence, the professional commitment that meant I needed to be at work that night robbed me of all the fun my ‘men’ had planned.

The following week, I was my buddy’s Best Man. This was a wedding we planned together and if you have read my Best Man Duty series, the Church setting was inspired by this particular wedding. It was the kind of wedding where there was no Bridal Train except for the Ring Bearer, Little Bride and the Best Man and Chief Bridesmaid.

Some months later, I was back on Best Man Duty when another of my buddies got married. There I met the beautiful Dayo Alajiki, the Chief Bridesmaid. Dayo is my muse for Cynthia in Best Man Duty. Those hours we spent supporting our friends to get married laid the foundation for the friendship we have today. We don’t get to interact every day these days because of the demands of adulthood but we remain very cordial. One of us would hit the other up occasionally and we would have mentally-stimulating conversations. Back in the day, we would chat all through the night whenever we were both on the night shift. She would have been a love interest had I not known that she was committed to another. Despite that, we both know how to draw laughter from each other and that made us look forward to conversations.

In the same year, my mate from part of primary school and the other part of high school, Tunji Jaiyeola, also put me on his bridal train. As a matter of fact, it was on his wedding day that Best Man Duty started, first as one or two episodes, then I expanded it and it got acclaim so I kept writing till life happened and I could not keep up or end it the way I wanted to.

I feel old these days and when I see folks on the Bridal Train do the things I and my people did back then, I just smile and remember how it was when my ‘set’ also actively took part in Bridal Train duties. How the babes would dress to impress, and sometimes overdo that they end up looking like masquerades. I also remember how the guys would walk with different types of ‘shakomended’ posings, possibly to catch the attention of the babes and all.

Link-ups happened o, let us not lie. Some ended well and some ended ‘very well’. Some ships sailed but some caught fire before they could sail at all. It is part of life, and part of the process.

Today, I took a look at the ‘Ladies in Wardrobe’, as friends of the bride are called these days and I knew they were having the time of their lives. Perhaps, there could be one or two who will write the perfect story, you know those stories about their wedding starting from meeting at a wedding.

Let me go to bed after the exertions of the last 24 hours plus which saw me go to Ikorodu to ‘pluck a beautiful flower’. Meanwhile, I love love stories and I am looking for one like that since I cannot write mine that way again. Over to you Nifemi *picks race*

TIME AT THE LEBANESE ENCLAVE – A Close Shave and The Unexpected Movement

Featured Image: Farmers Academy

Work started again after the boys were cleared. As previously noted, it felt like a Tsunami but life had to go on.

There is this spot along Seven-Up Road in Oluyole Estate, for those familiar with Ibadan, the city where I have lived most of my years. This was the spot where my life flashed before my eyes sometime in October 2014.

We had closed that evening after the afternoon shift. Sallah was the following day and the excitement was palpable. People had trooped into town to celebrate the massive festival but for those of us in my line of work, you can’t even put any celebration on the front burner. Of the five or six Christmases that I worked in that place, it was only once that I had the opportunity to celebrate the way I normally would. For the first two years, I was on the afternoon shift which meant I would resume at 2 p.m., when the celebration was about to start, and close at 9 p.m., when the annual celebration would be almost ending.

So much for the digression, we closed that evening and Ayodeji Olasanoye, one of the guys who was on my shift would take me on his motorcycle and drop me at Mobil or Challenge. We were moving on the ever-terrible Seven-Up Road and were almost opposite the IBEDC office when he increased his speed to beat the truck in front. He took the right side and was almost connecting the main lane again when the motorcycle’s tyre slipped and we ended up on the floor. Now, everything happened in a flash and I found myself in front of the truck which was approaching while Ayo was under the truck.

Alarms were raised, and I smelt death. People around that scene shouted for the truck to stop. By then, I was up on my feet, with no scratch but I screamed, calling Ay’s name. The next thing I remember saying was “Ha! Ayo ti ku (Ha, Ayo is dead). This I was saying while standing in the middle of the road. Unconsciously though, I moved to the side and tried to look under the truck that had now stopped.

Like a bolt out of the blue. No! Like a shark that was prodded out of the water, Ay burst out from under the truck and said “Oga, mi o ku!” (Boss, I’m not dead). I touched his arm and cloth and looked at him, looking for any sign of what I did not even know. Ayo looked at me and we both burst out laughing while I went to pick the seat that had been flung to one side, he brought up the motorcycle. Collecting the seat from me, he placed it on the machine, started the engine, and asked me to get on it. We sped off again before any pity party could gather.

That was a very close shave. It felt as if I was seeing a movie. A few weeks later, news broke about the death of one of my Wesley College of Science mates, Powell Omeke—such a cool guy who was as brilliant as he was calm. I was told that he was in a vehicle accident, and I instantly remembered how I was spared.

As if that was not enough, another incident took place within a month. I was on the night shift and Abraham Ojedeji, one of my Team members came to raise the alarm that one of our pens was likely going to collapse. It was scary because I was in the office beside the pen. This was some minutes before four o’clock in the morning. As you try to open the pen door, the industrial fan will suck in air that will shake the weak sides of the pen. I sent a S.O.S message to the Electrical department guys and they arrived in a flash.

One of the expats, an Indian guy called Manoj also quickly reached out to the General Manager while I called Mr. Taiwo. We were able to bring the situation under control as the electrical guys disconnected the pen. It was a Sunday night shift and I was working two straight shifts which meant that my resumption at 9 p.m. on Sunday would first end at 7 a.m. on Monday while I continue the next shift and close at 3 p.m.

The pen was evacuated but I had a feeling that everyone felt something was wrong with me. I almost started thinking that way to if I would be honest. From the burglary to a major disappointment on a personal level after some weeks and now to a collapsing pen when I was on the shift. I am sure anyone would have assessed the situation and drawn the same conclusion too.

Well, a major reorganization took place three weeks later and five of our nine pens were returned to the Broiler Unit while staff were also moved on in the merry-go-round. I was again on the night shift and could not fight my case so I was one of the two Supervisors that were shunted out to the Broiler Department. Amos Adeleke, one of my able lieutenants was one of the attendants that were redeployed. There were others too that I cannot remember again.

Now, it was us being moved from the comfort of the Broiler Breeder unit to the Broiler unit where they were always put under pressure. Every leader has their style and I would not expressly condemn anyone but I liked one of my Managers than the other. And of course, there was now the unavoidable interaction with Hanna, the female Lebanese Manager whose modus operandi was not one most people wanted. She was that one who would talk down on people and try to instill fear or compliance.

Hanna always acted like someone who was born and brought up in a Concentration Camp. It was all yelling and complaining, she hardly ever praised anyone. On the rare occasions that she was impressed, she would send the Manager to give something to the boys which Oga did. I hardly saw her interact with subordinates, and if she would chat with Managers, it was officious, at least from where I was seeing things.

And of course, there was the Manager who always melted like a jelly that is placed inside the sun anytime Hanna yells. This was different from my former Manager who would call her bluff anytime she overstepped her bounds like she tends to do.

Remember, these posts are meant to be no-holds-barred so I will throw shades and may even be more specific. No apologies at all.

Tomorrow, I will let you into my final year working in the Lebanese enclave. How I fared under Hanna and her management style, working with a new set of people and other interesting stories.

The 28-day challenge has morphed into a memoir. It will go back to something else again before we end it in 7 days.

You don’t wanna miss it!

SOCIAL MEDIA, TIMING AND ‘NOT GREEING’

Featured Image: Terawork

Today, its more like a reflective post for me. No regrets, just reflections. And while it may look like I’m in a para mode, rambling and what have you, it is just me reflecting on how the years seem to have flown by very quickly.

Some weeks ago, I took a look at my blog and saw the plenty things that has been done since I started putting my writings on there. Plenty things that used to be in this big head that I inked and shared on the Oscarpoems blog. Truth is it is now more than a poetry blog but I started out by writing only poems before other kinds of writings gradually took over and the poetry part of things started to atrophy.

It is likely this feeling I have been struggling with for some time was brought back to mind after my chat with my guy, Wale Fa, last week. As things have come to be now, and the clan that used to spend some time at Labalaba years ago has dispersed, I picked my phone to touch base with Wale. Our conversation went back to the days when we were building followership on social media, especially on Twitter which has now become X.

That platform has gradually evolved from what it was back then and has become something different. I see how many of the people we used to interact with have slowly moved on from being regulars. Life happened, maybe many outgrew the things they did back then and have taken on the roles of ‘elder statesmen’. These days X has now become an obvious source of income, unlike what it was back then.

It is not only X. Many features have been added even to our first love, Facebook, while the likes of Instagram have also become more than ‘social media’. The new kid on the block is TikTok. I remember how much persuasion it took me before I could sign up for Instagram so I don’t even feel the need for TikTok because I am not an influencer and I have what I need on the media where I am active.

I am Team BlackBerry for life, and would give anything to have the days of BlackBerry Messenger again but I seem to be stuck in the past, wishing for a ship that has long sailed.

So back to that talk with Wale Fa a week ago, he brought up how social media has become a money spinner that it was not when we had all the time and would have made something out of it. Then I remembered how my writings, and subsequently a web series I wrote and titled Best Man Duty gave me and my writing a lot of visibility.

Whatever I did back then was borne out of the love and passion I have for writing. I would use my spare time at work to write stuff I knew my readers were waiting to read on my posting days which were mostly Fridays for other posts and Saturdays for Best Man Duty. I had features from mutuals: my egbon Isaac Kola Adegboyega, Dolapo Kasali and Lanre Bucknor. Olumide Olawale gave us a four-part serial that he titled Orekelewa; Abimbola Adebayo gave us Dabira, another fictional series and Office Life, something related to the News Room in a media house. Those were days sha! A lot of madness in writing.

These days I look at my Facebook friend list and see people I have not even met but that we became ‘friends’ because of Best Man Duty. And oh, me and the award-winning Sally Kenneth Dadzie, followed each other via Twitter and she got to feature Best Man Duty on the Moskedapages blog, which was one of the hottest literary blogs in Naija at the time. Omo, Sally na winch! The babe sabi write pieces. Lucky for me, I got complimentary copies of The Fourth Finger, In The Name of Papa, Stranger In Lagos and other books Sally has authored.

When I look at how these years panned out and how things have changed, I just smile wryly. A smile of what might have been, a smile filled with plenty what ifs. When I see what writing content has become these days, I feel maybe I came too early. What if my writings and the accompanying chain of events happened in these present days when content don become money? Anyway, we still dey collect coins doing proofreading and editing but the major money has to come in too.

As I journey on, my own ‘No Gree For Anybody’ will come from me choosing to position myself strategically so that I can also reap from the seeds I have sown over the years, writing for fun and leisure, getting underpaid by some clients and other not so palatable experiences. Right now, it is time to get value and be paid premium. My ‘No Gree For Anybody’ includes me also fighting for my share of whatever it is that goes on in this writing space. Until then, we soldier on!

See you tomorrow!

OF PEOPLE, TIMES AND SEASONS

Featured Image: http://www.freepik.com

Some days ago, Dad asked of an acquaintance from me. I smiled and told my old Papa youngy that its been a while I heard from the person.

We got talking as we usually do whenever we have the opportunity. He said it was a shame that relationships hardly last these days.

“Baba, it is what it is. I have come to understand that not all relationships last till the end of time,” I started.

That conversation took me down memory lane. I made a mental picture of the people around me from the last decade and I realized that not all interactions have remained as strong as they were in say 2012 or 2013 or 2014, and especially 2015.

Let me state that I have learnt honestly to break my human relationships apart from family, into friendships and acquaintances. This has saved me unnecessary apprehension about how my relationships have panned out over the years.

The people in our lives: family, friends or whatever they are, are meant for a particular time. Some for the short-term and others for the long haul, not forgetting mid term folks.

Ask yourself whether that partner that meant the world to you back then is still relevant in the grand scheme of things. Where are those guys you mentioned in your undergraduate project? Still as cordial? Then their chapters are not yet over in your story. And if its just the occasional phone call that keeps you close, don’t stress or sweat about it. Life happens!

2014/2015 was quite the year for me. I spent time with different folks. Our meeting points varied, mostly after a long day at work. Those were times we would share boxes of pizza, Matthew’s barbecue fish at Labalaba UCH, Pamela’s special and Thuraya Amala, not forgetting the Family House with the boys.

How many of us are as close as we used to be? Its not that we had disagreements or anything of such. Life just happened and we all had to stop seeing. The ones who chose to behave like Judas did, the ones who life happened to, the ones who changed location, and the ones like Wale Fa who started ‘cheating on me’. Its all part of the package called life.

Of course there are those who choose not to go away like that oil stain on your white fabric. They look like they’re gone only for them to show up again. Its all part of times and seasons.

What about those who fluctuate like Lister generator powered light bulbs. They’re neither here nor there. Don’t blame them, its all about times and seasons.

For me, I have made peace with the fact that it is not only death that takes people away from us. Life also does and it leaves different feelings in its wake. We get to start feeling maybe we have done something wrong to the other party when its just a matter of their times with us being up.

The bottom line is to ensure that we strive to leave good memories with the people in our lives while our times with them last.

Let’s meet tomorrow! My amala and abula at this wedding party is waiting, and won’t eat itself.