What's The Essence?

       “Absence, is not the lack of something…..but the presence of NOTHING” – HayDhee
 
        Yeah, I Know Right!!... it’s been Ten weeks, Six days and 22 hours (for those of us that can actually do math) since my last post on ThoseThoughtz , some of y’all called, texted, pinged….some fellas even asked if I copied my first three posts (LOL).  The last nine weeks have been tough, from annoying lecturers to moonlights games in 9AM classes, from playing Superman in the Lab to friends that become family. I’ve missed you, really, I’ve even missed me…. Okay, let’s move to today;    

         So its 11:32PM, Monday 28th December (just two days after Christmas, mind you) and I’m sitting in this lonely class, trying to get some stuff into my head while hugging my arms and embracing this “African version of winter” called harmattan. Lemme take a moment now and ask myself,  “what’s the essence”, why am I not home with my folks, cracking the bones of yet another unfortunate chicken, while leveling the usual mountain of Pounded Yam that comes with Christmas night. It just begs The Million Dollar Question- ‘WHY DO I DO WHAT I DO?’

          I once saw this really deep DP that read “WORKING HARD FOR SOMETHING WE DON’T CARE ABOUT IS CALLED STRESS, WORKING HARD FOR SOMETHING WE LOVE IS CALLED PASSION.” And I agree, 100%, I mean what else would make someone decide to go to school for Six Years? Or make a random guy choose to run around a football pitch for all of 1hr; 30mins, or better still, what is making me close my books for so long to write this? It’s quite simple really, it’s LOVE, pure, sizzling and undiluted Love.
 
         Have you ever paused to ask yourself, ‘why do you even get off my bed every morning?’ (for me, it’s just to look for food sha), why do you go to work, school or even the market? Lemme guess, Passion, fun, boredom or better still MONEY????? OK, fine, I love writing, if possible I’d even write about writing, but I’m not in school studying ‘writing’, am I? Does that mean I’m not doing what I love best? How do I even get to know what I love best?
Just like in Jude Of All Trades, I’d ask how you stumbled on your life’s passion, are you even on the same lin   e as your deepest desires? Do you even enjoy your lectures? When last did you even smile at work? Or are you one of those people who want to become Movie Stars, but are in Medical School.
                                                                   #shalla

That Saturday Morning

                  Okay, so boarding school was my choice- I dreamt about it, craved it, infact,i prayed for it! And yeah, the Heavens granted my wish, the beginning of  SS1 first term met in boarding school, looking back now….I’D STILL GO BACK TO THAT HOSTEL…well, I just couldn’t display this optimism that Saturday afternoon tho.
                 Let’s take a walk down memory lane… I kept that Golden Morn for months, ignored all the temptations from my guys, fought the nights of total hunger, finding solace in the watery dinning beans, at the same time consoling myself with the euphoria I’d experience when I finally soak my g-morn. But even as I write tonight, I still cannot fathom “why” I chose that Saturday, of all the days in the week, I decided to pick that Saturday Morning; we had been up since 6am, cleaning the dorm for the usual Saturday Morning Inspection (if you went to boarding school you will grab abeg), working assiduously in the toilets- Oh yes, I was a ‘toilet worker’-, scrubbing, sweeping, at the same time stomaching the insults from those lazy corridor sweepers. Oh my, the hunger that morning was just unequivocal; it was like the warriors in my stomach final decided to play ‘hide and seek’. Anyways, I knew in my heart of hearts that it was time, the hour had come and it was an unmistakable sign from up above -a sign to finally ‘launch’ my dearest g-morn (after the inspection)
                 Fast forward to a few hours later, I stylishly ditched my main guys and made my to my locker to ‘codedly’ soak my something… humming happily to myself…suddenly! From nowhere the thunderous voice boomed…”ADEBO!!! .....NO BE G-MORN BE THAT???..... OYA REPORT FOR HERE... NOW NOW!!!”  (I don’t think I can ever forget the sound of Senior Jude’s voice)…and there and then, I knew the game was over…I still remember how my heart was in my mouth while walking through the  literal ‘valley of the shadow of death’ –from Room7 to Room2 ( Senior Jude’s Corner), holding ‘my precious’ sheepishly. So, Jude took his bowl oo… and poured almost 75% of the something!, kai! If looks could kill sha! The guy no even send me at all… Like the unseen forces dealing with me were determined to serve me a total knockout-another senior saw the exchange and decided that Golden Morn would be his lunch!.. that one too poured like 22% of the remaining 3%- do the math abeg. Naso e take happen oo… in less than five minutes, my heart was broken, expectations shattered, all that was left would not even feed my neighbor’s 6 month old baby- they hadn’t even rang the dinning bell before I was on the queue for the rocklike yam and watery stew they serve on Saturday Morning!
           It's  a boarding school thingy, so  go ahead, crack some ribs and tell a story of how you didn’t have it easy in the hostel…..or were you one of those chilled out folks who can never really understand how it feels to be a “boarder”?
   

            PS; Senior Jude is now an Engineer and I can bet My Words he cannot remember That Saturday  Morning  (I really hope he gets to read this tho)  
                       
                             See y’all next week …. #shalla

Fine-daughter-of-a-black-president

               So I woke up that morning oo,wondering where the night went as usual,made my traditional cup of coffee,no sorry,Lipton,picked my phone...searching for new topics to air my view on....well,the gods of gossip were in a good mood that morning...the first headline that graced my four eyes was the fact that one fine-daughter-of-a-black-president is now engaged to one of the men that fought alongside her father in World War II, honestly, i don't even know how that steaming cup of tea managed to miss my mouth (and don't you dare ask where it went to).

            Back to d matter,this lady is someborry that influenced many votes,how?....she just posted a couple of perfect selfies!...now that Big Daddy is in Abuja, she's slying us totally. In fact, i know a couple of hot blodded brothers who would call for a by-election (we voted under the influence of beauty abeg). Now, i'm here thinking of the one thing that made our fine-daughter-of-a-black-president (i no mention any name oooo) attracted to her ancestor when confirm,eligible bachelors like me and Brother Paul next door are just one phone call away?...abi guys don finish for area ni???..... Or was she never attracted to him, is it a question of force,or just a product of culture? Okay, what’s the problem with this baba sef, wetin im wan do again??.....i'm still asking myself this questions ooo, my people.

           Actually,i do not have anything against the culture sef,if you're 72 and you wish to get married to your 18 year old crush,go ahead....i'd still come and eat jollof rice at the reception jejely. All i'm doing is questioning the logic of it; not on the male's side but on the female's....how on earth would u want to enter a marriage where your step-daughters are in your mother's age bracket??....i wonder ooo.....and for the Baba's....well...if una finish all the fresh, young and fine babes before we reach there.....DIARIZGOD OOOO.....

     I am done talking abeg,before them talk say na my mouth them hear say make person no marry person...when my orente still dey use me play hide-and-seek....but lets take a moment and do the math of it... If our Grandfathers marry our classmates....who would we marry?......FIND X

                    SEE Y'ALL NEXT TIME....YOU  MAKE  LIFE WORTH WRITING FOR.... #shalla

"JUDE" OF ALL TRADES

                "JUDE" OF ALL TRADES
     
    Until i turned 16, i always thought the "fairy" that "delivered" future ambitions to kids somehow forgot me (peharps as punishment for my constant bad manners). It was never definite; either this,or that...and in some cases,a combination sef.
    When I was 8, my Aunt had this microphone - the standard silver and black mic with an unending trail of wire-,that mic inspired me; a pure,sizzling and undiluted inspiration to....CLIMB ON THE CENTRE TABLE AND PREACH TO THE BANANA TREES... well,that was the birth of my first profession; to be a Pastor. Looking back now, i reckon i should have given more credence to the fact that i am a good orator(which we would find out in subsequent posts). So,the boy wanted to be a pastor...#Trade1
      The years flew by, or were they even months?...but i suddenly realized that my 'congregation' was not growing- perhaps i was not a good enough pastor,in fact, it was reducing!-My Dad actually cut down some of the Banana trees-. Well,one way or another...i knew i had to make a drastic change; an upgrade was required
      GOD BLESS OUR PILOTS....from the white suits to the perfect caps,and oh,i cannot but mention the cute air hostesses! LOL... i entered the pilot phase #Trade2... next came the naval officer dream #Trade3 and medical doctor came up along the line... (I just hope i won't ditch that along the line for "greener pastures"....  One way another 'sha',i found a perfect answer to the "What Do You Want To Be In Future?" question. Please post your own story of how you discovered..."What You Want To Be In Future"...See you next week😀👋✌