Play the Part of An Optimist

Incurable Optimist.

This would be one of my more defining characteristics. Even when I was hooked up to an echo cardiogram machine that beeped every time I so much as moved my ass, I was thinking what a great blog post/dinner story/attention grabbing gimmick it would be.

The only times I get depressed are when I am alone. As soon as I have one other person (or one hundred) to 'perform' for, all morbid thoughts and pessimism is dissolved immediately.

And there are 2 cardinal rules I follow when faced with a challenge, can i do anything about it? Yes? Then I don't worry and get on with what I can do. I cant do anything about it? Then why the hell would I worry about it if its out of my hands??

Bottom line... Don't worry about it.

Use a Happy Memory as a Guide

The earliest ever memory I have is one of being trapped and wussing out.



I have no idea how old I was but I was sufficiently young enough that I was still sleeping in a cot in my parent's room. So no more than 18 months.


I woke up in the middle of the night and felt an overwhelming urge to join my parents on their bed. Which was WAAAAAAAAAAY across the room. About 6 feet away.


I scrambled up and held on to the 'bars' of the cot with every intention of clambering over the rail, lowering myself to the ground and crawling/walking over to the warmth and safety of my mother's embrace.


But the ground looked so far away.


I distinctly remember gauging the distance, gathering my courage and then... losing it immediately. I tried psyching myself that it wasn't that far away and cast many hopeful glances at the bed willing my progenitor to wake up and gather me into their loving hands. They didn't even stir.

I gave up without attempting that jump.


I have no idea why this memory has stayed with me but it sure has figured in a LOT of the subsequent jumps I have made ever since. "Ladi are you going to wuss out and not make it out of this cot you find yourself?"


And I have made countless happy memories by reminding myself of that first recorded memory


Decisions have been made easier and I have fallen into a nice cycle where happy memories encourage me to take a chance, (or think things through) because I have sufficient perspective to realize that although this might seem like a harrowing (or exhilarating) experience at the time, it was going to end up as a happy memory I could use to motivate myself in the future.

Some of the strongest memories I have (thus far) are the ones I made in AIESEC. Particularly on stage facing hundreds of my peers and knowing... beyond a doubt... that each and every single person in the room was focused on me. And my words. For that 30min session, being able to wallow in all that attention was just nirvana for a narcissist like me.

My active AIESEC days are over, so therein lies the question? How do I recapture that feeling of all-encompassing attention on myself? DO I become a motivational speaker? Nope! I can hardly motivate myself to go to the gym... that wont wash.

Perhaps if I followed Rowling's example? How much more attention does one want knowing someone has paid to read what you wrote?

So enjoy this while you can... it's gonna cost you very soon! Heh.

Identify With Your Heritage

I met a lady today who had visited 40 countries.

She was Canadian, with an Australian passport who lives and works in Auckland. And oh... she has a Japanese name. (more on this later)

In the world of today that we live in, especially for young people, national borders and restrictions are starting to mean less and less. There are so many opportunities for cross-cultural experiences, work and play.

There is almost nothing that you know that is not immediately known to, or available to be known by almost everyone else in the world. (thank you world wide web) This amazing shrinking of the planet earth comes with never-before-imagined opportunities.

Grow up in a technological advanced Asian nation; school in a predominantly Anglo-Saxon cultural centre that is noted for its Opera House, rustling outback and Hugh Jackman; Do an internship with one of the biggest investment houses in (one of) the financial capitals of the world that Spiderman calls home; go travelling in Latin America with your brown-skinned boyfriend who has roots in the cradle of civilization and the land of leprechauns and River Dance.

At this point, it doesn't really matter where you live, you are so thoroughly immersed as a global citizen that each city/town/nation you arrive in, opens it arms and welcomes you with a warm embrace.

And yet...

It is not for nothing that adopted children go to great lengths to find their birth parents. There is a nagging feeling of incompleteness. A sense of unfinished business that gnaws at your balance and clouds your prospect for the future. You need to know where you have come if you are to make anything of the road you intend to travel. Otherwise life's journey becomes a never-ending question.

So although national borders MIGHT be losing their relevance, national cultures are not. I have lived in 5 different countries and consider myself a citizen of a world but I remain and will always be a Nigerian national. I have been asked from time to time what part of Nigeria I come from and I always answer...

"...the Yoruba. The name, language and people of the South-West of Nigeria. Stretching across Nigeria, Togo and Benin Republic, this 40-million strong race are a people of passion, power and history. A race of Warrior-Poets and Soldier-Kings, the Yoruba are renowned for their daring feats of courage, acts of compassion, and love of their culture..."

Ok, so maybe not as eloquently as the above.

But it is HOW I should respond anytime I am asked. I realized after moving to Aotearoa that the urge to find other Yoruba people and speak the language, crack a few jokes in typically loud and ostentatious manner became over-whelming after a few months. Thank Goodness for the small but vibrant community here in Auckland.

So go on... take pride in your heritage. Know where you are from and it really does become easier for you to shake off the restricting aspects of that heritage and make you more adept at incorporating new and beneficial aspects to your own personal heritage.

Seek Positive Emotion as a Path to Success

A smile will do wonders for your day.

Crappy day, crunching numbers the whole day, missed the deadline for your boss, missed your bus and got caught in the rain.

Little girl on the next bus (which was 40mins late) smiles at you and everything is okay with the world.

The first picture I had in my head was a super hot girl (of the older variety) pouting her lips and smiling at you on the bus... but then I realized that she might be smiling at you with pity and secretly laughing at your sodden and dishevelled appearance.

But a 5-year old angel of a child's smile at that point, while still laughing at you, will covey that sense of innocence and wonder that little children effortlessly convey. It's more laughing WITH you rather than AT you actually.

And rather than getting home and snapping at your beautiful wife, (who wouldnt have liked the hot girl smiling at you anyway) going to bed misreable and having an even worse day at work the next day, you kiss your wife, take a shower and go to bed with the feel of a loved one's kiss and the memory of a smile that made up for the crappy day.

And BECAUSE of all the positive emotions, you go to work the next day and not only submit the report but also suggest strategies for pulling the company out of its downward spiral and they promote you to CEO.

Ok, a bit simplistic I know.

But in said story lies a moral. Success does not bring happiness. Nay. It is the other way round. Those who are happy and content with their lot in life but who want to continue to see smiles and contentment in their lives are more likely to seek out ways to make this happen. And even if they dont suceed at first, they have the fall-back cushion of what made them seek out that success in the first place. To generate more positive emotions so to speak.

And even if there seems to be little or nothing to generate positive emotions, the key word here is "seems". There is ALWAYS something to bring a smile to your face. It's all about perspective people.

Me? I am an incurable optimist. Even when I lay hooked up to a echo-cardiac machine that beeped when I so much as lifted an ass-cheek to fart, all I could think of was how it would make a great party story. Or a great blog post.

An incurable sanguine, who feeds off positive emotions I am quick to surround myself with people who ooze positive emotions. And can consume great quantities of wine and still argue the merits of the death penalty.

So think happy thoughts and think your way to success so you can make more than your peers.

Make More Money Than Your Peers

Ridiculous!

How can open success that stands heads and shoulders above the success of your peers make you happy?

My house is bigger, my car sleeker, my country club membership more exclusive than yours friends! That gives me such a thrill, secret hidden thrill but a thrill nonetheless.

Ridiculous but true.

In "Count Your Blessings" I highlighted as one of my key blessings, the friends/peers that inspire you and make you strive to become better than you are. The inspiration given by your peers is quite different from the inspiration given you by a mentor/older person/parent.

Peer inspiration actually gives you a clear and present standard to measure yourself against, a standard that is current and subject to all the same challenges, opportunities and failures of your own personal situation.

And doesn't it feel good when you come out ahead of them?

And yet the caveat here is that your peers BE successful. There is no use (or fun) comparing yourself to someone who is so out of (beneath) your class! Because the 'feel-good' factor disappears and rather than secretly gloat at your edge, you become embarrassed at the gulf between you.

There is no satisfaction in flaunting your material wealth in front of someone who isn't similarly blessed. Rather than flaunt, you probably become even apologetic for it, or even worse you rub their noses in it. (Chances are that they are 'happier' and more satisfied anyway). I am happy to report that no one I call 'friend' has such a mean terrible streak in them. I think.

So this is a clarion call to all my peers. Make lots of money so I can make just that little more. And if it's the other way round... well... consider it my contribution to your happiness index!

PS
I am moving from my swanky city centre apartment into a proper house. (Two,) three bedroom house with a garden, picket fence and off-street parking. God Help Me!

Do Something Nice for Someone Else

I bought Tope perfume the other day.

A few weeks ago, she tried to drag me to a sale that was going on in one of the malls where there were tons of parallel imported stuff not least among them designer perfumes.

The key words here are, 'tried to' as I stubbornly refused to be coaxed from the the comfort of my couch that weekend. We did eventually go to a Colombian party that weekend which happened to be a stone's throw from the mall but still I didnt feel like going. And so we didnt.

Very mean of me I know.

Anyway, the weekend after, I walked to the city library to return some books leaving Tope at home. The city library happens to be right smack in the middle of downtown Auckland. Queen Street which is the premier shopping boulevard in the central business district was right next to the library.

I noticed Smith & Caughey's were open and I knew they had quite the collection of perfumes so I went in and was met with a babble of noise and commotion. There was apparently a perfume sale going on!

To cut a long story short, I spent hundreds of dollars on perfume for me wife and I just need to add, these were hundreds of dollars that I couldnt afford.

But on the way home, I was stepping on clouds and had such a good feeling in the pit of my stomach. After being a meanie the previous weekend, I was imagining Tope's face when i presented the haul to her and I wasnt disappointed.

"Every man for himself" seems to be a survival instinct for most animals. Man however has the amazing capacity for extreme good and charity towards his fellow man. (for evil too but this is not the focus of this post) And there is no substitute of course for the love of a mother for her child.

But if you can explain the irrational love that a mother has for offspring, it is when a human being does something truly charitable for his fellow human with whom he has no filial relationship, one can begin to sense the perfection that a society can and should aspire to.

So go out and do something nice for someone with no expectation of a reward. Do it and see the confusion and joy in the person's eyes, tell the person, "this one's on me". It really does work.

Laugh Big

I had an uncle who spoke in capital letters.

Of blessed memory now, my uncle was a Chief Judge and was the spitting image of my own father. Some people are described as being soft-spoken, Justice Kunle Ajayi was NOT one of them.

He was one of those individuals who through sheer force of personality dominated whatever setting he happened to be in. Not very tall at maybe 5"5, his booming voice and sanguine personality made him larger than life.

And did I mention his laugh?

It was the sort of laugh that shocked you out of your lethargy, infected you with its candence and forced you to attempt to contribute your own laugh to whatever was the cause of amusement. Never mind that you didn't actually know why he was laughing.

My laugh was quite famous when I was growing up as well, and I had my mother shake her head in bemusement and mutter to herself many times, "Laughs just like Justice". My laughing buddy in Sweden, Maria Klockar Johansson and I shared many a laugh together. Whether it was laughing at Amit Desai or at the strange looks we got when we went shopping for groceries together, Maria happens to be one of those I would be willing to enjoy a laugh with any day any time.

It's important to laugh. Not everyone can. Or does. Laugh until you cry, until your sides ache or in my case, laugh until I get a stich in my side.

A colleague asked me just today, "What was the most embarassing thing you ever did"? At first I scoffed as if to say, "I must have too many to remember". But when i tried to recall an embarassing moment, it was much harder than I thought.

I think it goes back to laughing. My ability to laugh at myself. Most situations that would be absolutely mortifying to ordinary people, I laugh at and forget the very next minute. Well... this could also mean I have no shame whatsover but lets not go there.

There is a brand new channel on my Sky TV subscription called Comedy Central. And one of my favorite shows on it is "Just For Laughs" which shows highlights from the annual Montreal Comedy Festival. Now that is a career I wouldnt mind having. Stand-Up comedy. Too bad I dont have the talent for it. Although me mum must have thought I had a future in it as she would laugh back then when I asked her for her car.

Please check out this extremely funny fellow from the UK in the clip below. And go on... Laugh Big!

Move Your Body

I have a friend called Harrison.

Harrison recently posted pictures of himself on facebook. He was at the beach with his new girlfriend (i am assuming) and they were both standing in the spray of the waves and generally made quite the lovely couple.

Harrison was looking quite buff, his black skin was gleaming, well chiseled pecs and biceps and his abs looked like you could grate cheese on them.

Did I say he was my friend...? I really hate the guy!

As far as I am concerned, he only put those pictures on to spite me. The bastard. I posted here on this very blog about wanting a body like Usher's almost 3 years ago!!!! And here I am... 3kg heavier and the extra kilos round my waist!

Living a healthy lifestyle for sure translates into a happier lifestyle and even if one does not have washboard abs, being active and relatively fit makes for a good combination. Like in all things, all I need is some discipline and external motivation and I really do think I can get a body like Usher Raymond's.

Discipline I will have to sort out for myself but external motivation will have to come from dreaming of the day I can put MY beach photos on facebook and show that Harrison of a boy that if he can do it... then so can I!!!

Nurture Your Spirituality

One of the most 'rewarding' times in my life was a school term in secondary school. I must have been about 12 or 13 and I really hated school.

It was the first time I had ever been away from home and I was finding it hard to cope with looking after myself, studying to be an A student and dodging the wrath of the older students who seemed to make it their life's work to be as mean as possible to their juniors.

This school term I refer to, I had decided to become a fully committed christian. Born-again, spirit filled and speaking in tongues. It was the 'in-thing' then and scores of students could be seen clutching bibles in addition to their text-books everywhere they went.

One of the maxims I took to heart that school term was, "In all things, give thanks". And I did.

When I was doing hard manual labor cutting grass and/or washing the dormitory toilets, I gave thanks.

When I was being wailed upon by the House Captain with a leather belt for not cleaning the toilet properly, I gave thanks.

When I missed lunch because I was recleaning the toilet, I gave thanks.

When I broke my pair of glasses rushing to the dining room for supper because I was so damn hungry, I gave thanks.

I gave thanks and believed God was watching over me and whatever happened was all part of the Master plan. And that term seemed to fly past. I was always at peace and nothing seemed to rattle me. When good things DID happen to me, it was validation that God had just been testing me previously to make sure that I was worthy of the really good things that did happen to me.

I think I hit puberty the term after that and started noticing which girls in my class had grown boobs and spirituality went out the window.

But the point is that, spirituality is a key aspect of happiness. Tests after tests have shown that people who proclaim to belong to some religion or the other have been polled as being "more satisfied" with their lot in life.

I am not as... spiritual... as I would like to be. I have travelled too much, seen too much and have become a bit too cynical that I doubt I can ever recapture the peace and tranquility of that school term again.

I envy those truly devout religious people. Of whatever belief. Although I do not share those beliefs, the anchor religion gives to these individuals is a great reason not to outlaw religion as a whole. And although religion has killed more people than it has saved, an atheist society would be a very empty society and I think religion does have a part to play in the balance of the perfect society.

I seek peace and spirituality these days in the comfort of my solitary walks in the Albert Park of downtown Auckland. Where I invariably pray Christian prayers to a Christian God even knowing fully well that a lot of so-called christians I wouldn't invite to my house also claim to pray to this same God.

Spirituality can be found in many different places, the patterns of the leaves falling from a majestic tree in the park; the grasp of a little child's hand on your index finger; the laugh of an elderly couple who are obviously still in love.

Where is Your Spirituality?

Snog. Canoodle. Get It On.

We live in a sex-obsessed society.

Sex is used to sell everything from movies, bikes, burgers and songs all the way to...sex itself. Porn industry yes I am speaking directly to you!

But it's no secret that the endorphins released from coitus (and everthing leading to it) has such a powerful effect in numbing pain that individuals have been known to going over and beyond in a quest to continually feel that pleasant glow that good sex brings.

I have had the privilege of living in 3 quite distinct countries and cultures. And it is amazing how different the attitudes towards sex are in each of the three.

In Nigeria, sex is definitely NOT a dining table family discussion topic. Depending on what part of the country you love in... sorry live in... it could be a discussion behind closed doors with your mother, consisting of her telling you that even being touched by a boy now that your period has started would result immediately in pregnancy;

or it could be a biology lesson where you have the diagram of the uterus looking like a cow's head on the board and your teacher ignoring the chuckles and embarassed looks being passed around the classroom;

or it could even be the odd sex scene on TV and your dad diving behind the newspaper pretending not to be in the room and your mum finding an excuse for YOU not be in the room or simply just changing the channel.

Yep! Sex is something not explicitly discussed but you are supposed to somehow pick up and master on all your own. Or if it is discussed, it is in black and white terms. DO NOT ever try it before marriage!

Sweden now on the other hand, oh my goodness! One of the biggest culture shocks I got in Sverige was the knowledge that 16 year girls could invite their boyfriends over to stay the night IN THEIR PARENTS house!

There is the famous Scandinavian openness about nudity. Topless beaches abound and public saunas although possessing seperate changing rooms for males and females only ever have common saunas. This is not to say that the whole country is constantly engaged in mass orgies but there is a maturity of approach that recognizes that sex is a very natural human activity and as such should be treated as one.

Most couples you find in Sweden have lived together for several years and had one or more children before finally deciding to get married. And in addition to the usual reasons of ensuring that there is compatibility between 2 people, a female friend summed it all up by concluding, "Of course I want to sleep with him before I marry him, Who wants to end up with bad sex for the rest of their lives?"

And New Zealand? There is an amalgation of the two above I guess. There is this Puritan streak through the society that I think is a legacy of the Victorian and English roots of the population but being a truly Western Society has not been immune to the glamourization of sex. Not for nothing have NZ girls been found to have likely had more sexual partners that their counterparts in other OECD countries. Or that an annual event called "Boobs on Bikes" is such a crowd puller in the downtown Auckland district.

As a result of my upbringing, experiences and lessons of life, I guess you could say I have a fairly liberal attitude to sex. Although I am experienced enough to know that the best sex is gotten when it is between two people who truly are in love with each other and is a validation of a committed relationship. (my wife will be happy to hear this last one. Heh.)

Hear the Music

Music they say is the food of the soul.

We get goose bumps listening to music. The lyrics, the performer, the rythmn, music has the power to move, inspire and shape a society.

I would imagine if the world were about to end and only a certain small number of people had to be chosen to go into a bunker to continue civilization as we know it, composers/performers of music would be very high on the list of those to go into the bunker. (or they could record the entire world's music collection on someone's iphone)

Because you see the healers and builders and leaders when they are taking a break from being those things, need the Chopins and the Handels and the Bachs and the Christina Aguileras to help them recharge their batteries.

With devices such as the aforementioned iphone, one can pretty much carry a whole collection of music around and be constantly surrounded by melody even unto sleep.

I am looking at not only listening to music these days but actually explore how well I can make music as well. (Guitar lessons in Auckland anyone?)

But a cousin of mine is already on that path and has come up with a delightful single. I cannot figure out a way to share his song with you but as soon as it's on Youtube I will post it on here.

Count Your Blessings

"Count your blessings, name them one by one

Count your blessings, see what God has done

Cooooount your blessings, name them one by one

And it will surprise you what the Lord has done"

One of my favorite hymns in Sunday School when I was younger, the song above captures the essence of what the first strategy to getting happiness and keeping it is.

The problem is that a lot of us fail to see the blessings right under our very noses. Material wealth does not count as the true blessings of life. Cliche I know but nevertheless true.

I have always suspected that I would be a prime candidate for a mid-life crisis when I hit my forties. If I haven't published that book, become President of Nigeria or led a 10-year campaign to make Nigeria the hottest tourist destination in Africa, I will probably go out and dye my hair, get another tattoo or buy a Jaguar.

So I want to get into the habit of counting my blessings as I go along now so that I keep sight of the really important things in life.

- A wonderful wife who loves me and would do anything for me. (I would too)

- Parents who just cant stop being your parents and everything synonymous with that.

- Siblings who make me revert to being the "baby of the house" persona whenever I am with them

- Good health. (could do with a little less gut and more exercise)

- The ability to communicate with anyone around the world almost instantaneously! (Try living in Aotearoa to appreciate this one!)

- Residence in a country that emphasizes work-life balance

- Friends that inspire me and who, after talking to them, always make me strive to be better than I was. (this one's for you Kene)

- A boss who genuinely makes working that much less seem like working and sincerely wants to see you reach your potential

- A community of Nigerians where I can go and speak Yoruba and bitch about how bad things are back home

- Reaching Week 13 and relinquishing full time cooking duties and celebrating a 1 in almost 4500 chance of that scary whatsathingy-called that people are afraid of. Not that I was ever worried about it.

So go ahead people, count the blessings. It doesn't have to be the really big stuff but just from the last week. And you will see how much you have going for you!

The King And I

I was 5 years old and it was my big sister's 10Th birthday.

We had all woken up full of excitement as we prepared to welcome a bevy of friends, guests and entertainment to celebrate my sister's first decade on earth.

Part of that excitement was the knowledge that there would be ample opportunity to dance to the music on what would become the best-selling album of all time.

Thriller.

An album with songs like Beat It; Billie Jean; Wanna Be Starting Something and of course the track that shared the same name as the album title. This is the earliest I remember my relationship with Michael Jackson starting.

This was a few years after the release of the album of course but in mid-eighties Lagos, Nigeria this was still the hottest and most played musical album ever. Combining funk, disco, soul, soft rock, R&B and pop (I lifted that straight from wikipedia), Thriller was not only a musical phenomenon but a dance extravaganza for us little kids who were born with soul and style in our little bodies. (If I do say so myself)

And I guess you could say the same about the Man himself.

King of Pop, Wacko Jacko, Peter Pan, whatever he was called, there was almost universal acclamation that this was a gifted genius. A gifted tortured genius but a genius all the same. I do not need to point out here how he revolutionized the music industry and became the biggest music star the world had ever known, all this has been covered much better and much more eloquently than I ever could. Not just his genius and his impact, but his slide into notoriety and the court cases that drew as much media attention as any of his world tours.

Fast forward to the "Bad" album and I remember my cousin Moyo and I ad-libbing to the song with the same name and pestering our mothers for black leather outfits with lots of silver rings on it. (We never got them). "The Way You Make Me Feel" tweaked open the door to the world of adolescence and Smooth Criminal ensured I would stay in it for a decent period.

Just in case there is any doubt, I am once and for all time a die-hard Michael Jackson fan. And it was always very hard for me to watch the way we devoured him with our adulation and attention. This was a man who was a victim of his own success. In every sense of the word!

Performing since the age of 5, a hit No 1 at the age of 11, forced to grow up in full glare of the world, brought to us by a media that fed fat on our insatiable appetite for more and more of him. Like my father-in-law said to me when I spoke to him a day after Michael's death, Michael Jackson was a gift to the world. His own happiness and mental well-being were secondary to his true purpose on earth. Which was to entertain and enrapture us.

And this I think captures what a lot of his detractors missed. There is no way it is possible for such genius to spring forth from a normal psyche. His non-existent childhood and unique experiences contributed directly to the sheer awesomeness of his being. Such genius ALWAYS has a price. Ask any genius.

And so this is to toast the man who would make 6-year old Ladi spring from his bed first thing in the morning and attempt the Moonwalk. (Constantly startling my brother who shared a room with me.) To the man who never actually grew up to become a man and remained (emotionally) at the age of pre-adolescence. The man who broke all barriers and had cross-over appeal no matter your race, origin or musical taste.

Like one of the articles on the Time Magazine website said, it didn't matter what you thought of him, when MJ wore those skinny black pants and white socks and did the Moonwalk, he was the coolest man on the planet. And we all wanted to be him. And for one glorious night 3 years ago, I was him!

Adieu MJ

PS
I have bought his entire musical collection.

My Big Fat International Network

I have about 30 first-cousins (give or take a couple) on my father's side alone.

As a child I was always eager for the next family gathering where the full range of uncles, aunts, cousins, second cousins and in-laws were always on hand to tease, lecture, make fun of, and scandalize each other. Stories grew into legends and epics after being repeated over and over again over the family dinner table. And almost all the stereotypes were represented in my quite extensive extended family.

The quiet head of the family, my dad's oldest brother who never said much but was deeply respected across the family. The larger-than-life uncle who had a booming laugh and almost always talked in capital letters. The rakish younger uncle who cracked up his nephews and nieces with fabrications dressed up as true stories; the aunt who was famous for her verbal missiles but who no one quite had the gall to confront her about it; the cool successful cousin who all the mothers held up as a measure of how we should aspire to be like... you name it, it seemed my family had the whole caboodle.

But as is the nature of the current world, such family gatherings have dwindled in the last few years and this is in no small part to the dispersion of family members to corners around the globe. London, Oxford, Birmingham, New York, Durban, Kansas, Atlanta, Boston, Libreville, are all cities that play host to an Ajayi. Current and former. And of course the Ajayi family even manage to have a representative in Aotearoa as well.

So a pretty international-based family.

And then add to this my friends. During my time in AIESEC, I shared intensely deep experiences with individuals from across the globe. A lot of these experiences at 10-day conferences and a lot when I lived in Stockholm, traveled a bit around Europe and met such an amazing spectrum of life-stories, passions and learning's which were all wrapped up in the unique idiosyncrasies of each individual person. I used to boast to my friends here in New Zealand that there was nary a country Europe I would visit and not be able to count on a couch to sleep on.

Or at least there would be if I kept in touch with any of these people.

I have been enjoying married life so much with my queen that I find I have been retreating away from the single most important item that I took away with me from AIESEC. My network. And it seems so silly in this day and age of twitters, facebook and skype that I am not in constant, daily contact with people who have made the tapestry of my life like a coat of many colours!

And of course I must not forget the "friends of my youth", those I grew up with and have known outside my AIESEC crowd and who are mostly still back in Nigeria.

So this coming week, I will be spending a whole lot more time on the phone, Internet and email to try and strengthen those contacts I have made and who knows maybe even make a few more. http://nomadlife.org/ is an especially good tool to just catch up on what people are up to and Facebook makes it even easier to actually get in touch and communicate with people.

So, if we have ever crossed paths in the past, you just might be getting an email, phone-call or maybe just a comment from me on your FB page in the coming weeks.

(I have almost a thousand friends on FB, suffice to say not all the people on that list will be hearing from me. Unfortunately)

Much Ado about Swine Flu

No I don't have swine flu.

But apparently, the particular strain of influenza making the rounds of the global community is now a pandemic. A Pandemic is apparently like the grandaddy of an epidemic. Communicable disease gone rogue. And New Zealand has been in the eye of this particular storm.

When the disease first surfaced, New Zealand was one of the first five countries with confirmed cases courtesy of a group of students who had just returned from a school trip to Mexico. The measured response and clear procedures for tracking, isolating and treating the disease were very impressive to watch and observe. I had a phone conversation with my father about that time and we both concluded that it would be... unfortunate... if such an epidemic reached the shores of Nigeria.

Anyway, from the less than half a dozen cases first recorded some weeks ago, it jumped to 23 then 71 and as of this morning (NZ morning) there were 81 confirmed cases of Swine Flu in the country. One primary school in the Auckland region closed down and sent all 145 pupils home.

So far nothing to worry about.

This particular strain of swine flu appears to be mild, its no more worse than the normal flu which according to the NZ Herald will send about 31,000 people to the hospital anyway in peak winter season. (one of the bewildering things about this to me is why the strain has killed so many in Mexico).

Since winter is just settling in on NZ, then it pays to be wary. Especially when wikipedia tells me that the Influenza pandemic that killed millions and affected a THIRD of the world's population in 1918-1919 was actually a second wave of flu. The first one hit without much impact, scurried off to wherever it is that flu epidemics go for holiday and came back to kill millions in a much more virulent episode!

Which is why I tried to send home one of my guys at work today when he turned up sniffing and sneezing to work. The Fonterra Chicago office was apparently closed as well when one staff member tested positive for the flu.

And which is why I nearly asphyxiated myself on the bus home tonight when this guy in the front row started sneezing without covering his mouth. I held my breath through 2 stops you see. Even though I was at the back of the bus.

New Zealand has one of the tightest border controls in the world and the government is concentrating on two strategies of "border control" (keep it out) and "cluster control" (stamp it out)

So for now, I have bought me a huge bottle of dettol hand sanitizer and will nod, smile heartily and walk past people very quickly rather than shake their hands and hope I hear people sneeze around me so I can hold my breath.

I wonder how much Tamiflu costs.

Eko for Show

If you google Lagos, you come up with results for a maritime Portuguese city that back in the 12Th and 13Th century served as a maritime expedition point for Portuguese explorers who sailed across the west coast of Africa.

They apparently made it to my neck of the woods and named the city of my birth for their port of origin.

Wikipedia tells me that a specific explorer, 'Rui de Sequeira visited the area in 1472, naming the area around the city Lago de Curamo'. Yoruba settlers from along the Ogun river had however lived in and around the creeks and lagoons of the south-west part of present-day Nigeria and had given the name "Eko" to the area. If you want to read more about it... click here

I mentioned about 2 posts ago the hullabaloo created in my office when Lagos was ranked very low in an index of cities measuring live ability. I asked for pictures, evidence and photos to show on this corner of the blogosphere that Lagos was innovatively trying to shed the bad rep it had acquired.

In response, I got this very delightful news item below from CNN sent to me:




When anything exciting, momentous or eye-catching was happening in Lagos, the title of this post would be heard from the mouths of anyone describing the events. Sort of similar to "Viva Las Vegas"

One saying that has been adopted by the current Lagos State government is in Yoruba (my native language) and goes "Eko o ni baje". Literal translation means Eko will not spoil.

The news items above makes me believe it.

Sometimes Growing Up isnt all That...

I hate being an adult sometimes.

I miss the carefree days of my 'youth' when the most important thing in my life was getting to the next AIESEC conference or asking out that gorgeous girl in my class.

Now the inescapable facts of adult life like bills, taxes, career-path, family responsibility all want to suck one down into that cliched but true phenomenom called the rat-race.

You also have to deal with death differently.

My friend Tokunbo Dawodu died last week.

I guess you could say I have been lucky that growing up I never had to deal with the death of a close family member or friend. And even when you are a child and someone dies, there are a lot of coping mechanisms available, "She's gone to be with the angels".

I met Tokunbo some 11 years ago when we were in University together. He was a member of AIESEC and together with Kwesi was one of those I looked up to when it came to the art of chasing girls. I remember him joking that he never drank alcohol because a civil war was liable to erupt if he ever got drunk and started spewing the names of the girls he had been involved with.

You would think he was quite well hated for being such a play-boy but the opposite was the case. They all seemed to love him just the same. Perhaps some of it came from his unpretentious nature and his wide smile must have gotten him out of trouble more times than he would care to count.

And to have such a fantastic human being drop dead for no apparent reason makes me wonder what its all about. No parent should have to bury a child and my thoughts go out to his dear mother. I am having trouble making rational sense of it all and this is just me, I do not want to imagine what that is like for his mum.

I will always remember the bus trip we took together from Ibadan to Kano to attend the AIESEC conference. We joined the AIESEC Ife group and it took all of 15hours. The romance and togetherness shown between you and your then girlfriend was a delight to watch on that trip. And it set the standard for the sort of relationship I wanted to have after that.

Tokunbo was a gentleman and always fun to be with. And I do not say this because he is dead now. He really was. A trained lawyer and resident of the greater Manchester area, Tokunbo will be sorely missed by a whole lot people chief among them, me.

Wherever you are now Tokunbo, I hope its a better place and I hope we meet again someday. Adieu my friend

...Not so Good for Lagos

I practiced being rude on Friday and also put someone in an awkward situation.

So the Economist Intelligence Unit had ranked 140 cities for 'liveability' and my current city of abode Auckland had come in 12th.

Lagos, the city of my birth however had scored a very disappointing but not surprising 136th position. Lagos was above countries like Harare in Zimbabwe and I think Lahore in Pakistan.

So on Friday, I overhead one of my colloeagues (who incidentally reports in to me) laugh quite loudly and he called another guy over and I overhead him point out the fact that Lagos was quite low on the ranking and he wondered if I knew about it.

It was a late on a Friday evening and I was struggling to finish some work before I went out for a much needed drink at the company social drinks and I just didnt have time to be the butt of what was frankly an insensitive jibe at my native city. But seeing that such social niceties usually flew over the indivdual in question's head, I steeled myself for the encounter.

Both colleagues walked over and started laughing and trying to explain that Lagos Nigeria was not a very nice city to live in and did I realize how bad a ranking the city had gotten. I had been preapring to give a nice little fake laugh, shrug my shoulders and "be a good sport" about it but in that split second, suddenly decided not to.

I schooled my features into the coldest, unfriendliest look I had and turned very deliberately from my work station to face them both. "What did you say?" I asked in a soft dangerous voice? (a la Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs); the second colleague who had been roped into this little mini-drama immediately sensed the danger and went very quiet.

The instigator however musnt have seen any good movies lately as to recognize the calm-before-a-storm demeanour I had put on and went straight on trying to explain how my dear city of Lagos was on the same level as war-torn cities and cities playing host to a schizrophenic megalomaniac bent on ruining his people.

"And you think this is funny because..." I asked in a slightly higher voice and thereby drawing the members of my open-plan office into the coversation.

He had finally caught on to the fact that something was wrong and his laugh wasnt coming out as smoothly or loudly as before. "No I just thought you might want to know that..."

"that the city of my birth where my parents still reside and where all my friends still are is not as perfect as can be?! And you think I would find this funny because...?????"

He was in a right panic by now and was stuttering and trying to explain away the unexplainable...

"Dude, if you dont have any work to do I would be more than happy to give you some" I said, subtly reminding him that I was going to be reviewing his arse at the end of the quarter. I turned back to my computer but not before I gave a quick wink to the second hapless guy who cottoned on so fast to the changing mood.

My would-be tormentor slunk back to his desk and the rest of my evening was immeasureably improved by the sight of his hunched shoulders and the quick glances he darted my way. But although he did come back later to apologize (I sniffed and waved my hand that it was ok) it didnt change the fact that Lagos did do very poorly in the ranking.

The five factors which were measured (traffic, culture, crime, infrastructure and I think education) are of course those things that are always highlighted as being wrong with Lagos.

However...

I hear that the executive governor of the state has been truly making a difference in the last 2 years. Seemingly intractable problems are perhaps not quite solved yet but a whole new innovative approach to solving it is been taken.

I would love for any of my friends/family resident in Lagos to please provide me some pictures, links, stories on the efforts that are being made to transform the mega-city that is Lagos. Part of my anger at my hapless colleague was in fact directed at myself that I had absolutely no defence to try and at least change his perception. All he knows now is that Ladi is a bit sensitive about the sorry state of his home city but the fundamental belief that Lagos is in a sorry state I did nothing to tackle.

This is the real tragedy I think.

The 12th Best City in the World...

...and I Live in it.

The Economist Intelligence Unit just released a ranking of 140 cities in the world which measures "liveability" and Auckland, New Zealand was number 12.

Six of the top 10 were either in Canada or Australia. See here for the abridged report

I will always consider my time in Sweden as some of the best EVER in my entire life but Auckland is starting to grow on me. Or me in it.

And yes I hope to be back doing this on a more regular basis. I have said before that how could I be living in AOTEAROA and having all these experiences and NOT blog about it? God forbid I become an old fuddy duddy...

...your favorite Nigerian in New Zealand is back!

So What Does an Obama Presidency mean to ME?

I received the most delightful email from a friend today.

His name is Kene Umeasiegbu, he works with Cadbury-Schweppes in the UK and we have been friends for a decade now.

He was there live in Washington DC for the inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama and I spoke to him on the eve of the day as he sat on a train "going with the flow" of people as they celebrated this most historic of moments

I have to get his permission to reproduce his email here on my blog but the gist of it, I can provide.

Kene drew a distinction between the different roles and identities that a single person can have. Father, Brother, Son, Idealogue, historian, global citizen, Nigerian. All different but still able to reside in the same consciousness.

The convergence of his (Kene's) role as amateur historian, idealogue and black man from Africa had convinced him that he HAD to be physically present for the inauguration of the 44th President of the US.

"SO where were you when Nelson Mandela was released from Prison; ...when the Berlin wall came down?; ...when the planes struck the twin towers?"

Kene's email concluded by asking the rhetorical question, "What does the inauguration of Barack Obama mean to you who witnessed it?"

First let us get one thing straight. This is a uniquely American event. Only in America is this actually possible that a member of the minority racial group can aspire AND attain the highest office in the land when his father would probably not have been served in a local Washington restaurant a mere 60 years ago. Only in America I tell you.

At least for now.

I read an absolutely brilliant article on the Time Magazine website during the US election primaries that delved a bit more into this point of view. It seems ludricous to imagine a 3rd generation Briton of Pakistani origin becoming Prime Minister in the UK. Germany has some 3 million Germans of Turkish ancestry and yet you can count on one hand the number of German-Turks in the German parliament. Ludricous to imagine one becoming Chancellor.

And yet 3 years ago, it was ludricous to think a guy with a middle name of Hussein would become President in America.

The article also described the sheer blatant racism still being faced in China by African students and talking about Africa, the whole continent has been a measure of tribal wars and genocide among disparate nations living within the same political contraption.

The Nigerian constitution states that you can run for elective office in a state as long as you have been resident in that state for 10 years. But in a country where you have Nineteen (19) distinct ethnic groups (Different language, different culture and history, all hobbled together by the colonial empire of Great Britain), practical realities guarantee that it is a pipe dream for a Yoruba man from the South-West of the country to become Governor of Kano State which is in the northern part.

Forget about it.

What am I saying?

A Yoruba man from Ekiti state cannot become Governor of Ogun State (which is also Yoruba). They will ask him if his father does not have a house in his 'home state'. Never mind the fact he has lived in Ogun state all his life and his father as well before him.

America has lost a great deal of respect and moral authority in the last 8 years. They are facing an economic recession which is the worst in many decades. (and pulled the rest of the world down with them), they are in the middle of two wars and they do not command that aura of invincibility that they had.

And yet.... by electing the first African-American to the office of POTUS, the son of an African student and a white woman from Kansas, they have shown to the rest of the world exactly WHY they are the sole remaining super-power in the world. That ability to re-invent themselves and constantly innovate in all spheres of life has been spectacularly captured in this historic achievement.

And achievement it is indeed.

So Barack Obama's election shows me that nothing can stop an idea whose time has come. That idea did not come suddenly and unexpectedly (maybe a bit unexpected ok!) but it has its foundations from the work of giants like Martin Luther King Jr, Rosa Parks and Lyndon Baines Johnson. The millions of people who marched, demonstrated and boycotted buses all across America for the dream, the hope of a just society. All these people laid the path for this historic event in America.

America has again led. It is time for us across the world to follow.

Picture of a Thousand Words

The topic of my recent nuptials to Temitope Aramide, for some reason leaves me speechless. At least in print. And I mean this in the most positive way possible!

It must be because I am still adjusting to the sheer awesomeness of it all!

It's been a 6-month hiatus from this blog and I certainly did a much better job of reporting on my brother's wedding more than 18 months ago.

I guess when you are in the eye of the storm... it becomes that much harder to 'report'. Unless you are Cristiane Amanpour of course.

Rest assured, my shared journey with this most perfect of women will come up for conversation on this forum.

If you want to see the full gamut of pictures, please visit the links below:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=52712&l=c70cc&id=508641537

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=52700&l=3aad1&id=508641537

Incalculable Power of Symbolism

"President Barack Obama and his team of writers... made refinements to his speech at Blair House on the eve of his historic inaugural address"

{Picture and words from www.time.com}

Barack Obama is a great man.

Before I tell you why allow me to share an email I sent to a group of my friends just now. It is reproduced in part below...

"...On a serious note though, we who have never experienced overt racism as a daily feature of our lives still have enough connection to the civil rights movement in the US through said stories, pictures and accounts of the period to feel awe, shock and dare I say it… hope that maybe, someday we could emulate this gesture at reconciliation and the catharsis of generations of injustices to a nation.

My words are chosen carefully because while an almost incalculable powerful symbolic gesture, the election of the son of an African immigrant to the most powerful job in the world is not an end in itself. As I heard on TV, Martin Luther King’s dream was not for the attainment of power by one particular race but a society where ANYONE can aspire to be anything he/she wants and be judged on the content of their character and not the colour of their skin.

Let us start to dream that Eche’s beautiful kid sister will announce her candidacy for the governorship of Lagos State and not be laughed out of hand. The constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria assures us she can. Realities guarantee it remains nothing but a pipe dream. President Lyndon Baines Johnson signed the civil rights bill in the mid-‘60s. It took another 2 generations for the ‘pipe dream’ and ultimate sign of symbolism to happen on the western side of Capitol Hill in Washington DC at 12pm Eastern time on January 20 2009.

Let us pray and hope that Barack Hussein Obama’s shoulders are wide enough for the responsibilities and hopes of future generations.

The hard work begins now for him…

Barack Obama is truly a great man because he has caused me to come back to this space to start to share my ongoing journey in life once again. A journey with such a unique perspective. If I do say so myself.

I had almost forgotten what it feels like to express myself through words written on paper (or typed on a blog).

Musings of a Nigerian in Aotearoa is back!