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Showing posts with label Job. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Job. Show all posts

Sunday, May 27, 2018

…OF VULNERABILITY AND THE ILLUSION OF ELEVATION


Since the last time I wrote here, some things have changed… Not such big changes, but big enough to make me become more introspective and less happy. I mean Life is TOUGH, at least I can speak for here in Nigeria where I live.

The first change is that I changed my job (Again???). Yeah, again. I finally left Telecommunications, I am now in Renewable Energy, Solar Energy to be precise, and while it is financially rewarding and interesting, it is also saddening because I get to come in contact with the real Vulnerables of the world, and that could be depressing, especially when you consider how minute your impact is compared to what they require to get uplifted out of their dire status.

The second change is that I have gone on and become a more open person who now interacts more with strangers and virtual friends, and what I see every day is that basically, no one has it together. We are all just trying to be happy, because happiness is such a fleeting state that you will definitely miss out on it while trying to own it, which is such a disturbing state of things because it means we are never happy, rather we are in an endless race in pursuit of happiness. This means that irrespective of education, income, social standing, and so on, we are all still in a state of flux and we are all still VULNERABLES despite all the illusions of elevation. I am now seeing Vulnerability not from the angle of lack of physical peace but from the perspective of lacking inner peace, calm and control.

The economic situation is terrible, this has been so for long, and it does not look like it is abating anytime soon, but even when by sheer dint of hardwork coupled with God’s blessings you are able to break the yoke and become self-sustaining and self-reliant, you are still vulnerable:
When you build a house and you need an electrified fence higher than your house to feel safe, you are vulnerable…
When you have a car, but you need to vary your routes everyday to avoid being trailed by people with sinister motives, you are vulnerable…
When you have kids but you cannot send them to public schools because it is pointless, and you are afraid of sending them to expensive public schools for fear of them picking up expensive terrible habits from the kids of the rich, you are vulnerable…
When you see every one of your mates emigrating from the country but you decide to stay put, you are vulnerable…
When you cannot access the best healthcare not because of your lack of trying, but because it is not just available, you are vulnerable…
When your kids understand technology better than you, you are vulnerable…
When everything is confusing most of the time, you are vulnerable...

You see, at the end of the day, we are mostly not in control, we are just playing and acting according to a script, and we cannot even control or determine when our character will be killed off. So, the best we can do is be the best of ourselves – treat others fairly and respectfully, live our life to the fullest, and above all, try to leave the world a better place than we met it such that we would have contributed our best to rid the world of the Vulnerables.

Thank You!

God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!


Twitter: @SirRash


Monday, July 20, 2015

INSPIRATION FROM AN UNLIKELY PLACE


I don’t know if you really know your Bible. No, I do not mean whether you are a Christian, or whether you go to Church, I mean, really know your Bible. Well, you don’t have to feel guilty, you are not alone *winks*. Staying on course, let me quickly take you to that part of the Bible, the New Living Translation Version of the Bible, in the book of Job, Chapter 1 Verse 7, Satan went before God:
God: Where have you come from?
Satan: I have been patrolling the earth, watching everything that’s going on.
Now, don’t start getting funny ideas, you are not God, and I am definitely not Satan, but given that it has been ten months since I last showed myself here, you are totally within your rights to ask me “Where have you come from?”, and I am sure the best answer I can give is “I have been patrolling the Earth, watching everything that’s going on.”

Surprisingly, many things have not changed since I was here. You know the way they say the more things change, the more they remain the same, that is exactly the feeling I have right now. Since the last time I trod this path, the PDP has gone from being the Ruling Party to the Opposition Party, but the size of the Government is still huge, the Naira is still reeling, and Boko Haram is still on rampage; the United States and its allies have bombed more terrorist camps with more advanced drones, but insurgency is dishearteningly still waxing stronger and spreading its tentacles across the globe; a lot of us complain about the depth and essence of music and movies being churned out on daily basis, but the bottom just seems to be coming closer to the surface (you must have heard Ladi); and Arsenal have spent about £150m over two years on players, four of them from Real Madrid, Barcelona, Manchester United, and Chelsea, and Arsenal have won three trophies in those two years but the media and opposition fans are still convinced Arsenal is a stingy club, there is just no pleasing the haters I guess; and the Company I “work with” has succeeded in sending most of the “expatriates” either back to their country or to a direct competitor, and have successfully replaced them with Nigerians, but the more things change, the more they remain the same, and sometimes, they even get worse.

However, unlike the bear, I did not just curl into a crevice and go into hibernation (How does a bear actually live with itself after coming out of hibernation, knowing it has just slept away a huge chunk of its life? Has it never heard of sagely sayings like “Life is Short” and “YOLO”?), I have actually been very active networking, building, and nurturing. I am really putting in the shift so that very soon, I will not have to introduce myself again because I would have become “Rich and Famous”, to borrow from Praiz. I get inspired everyday by people all over the world working assiduously to actualize their dreams, but nothing inspires more than when those people are close to home, when you know their stories, you experience their struggles and efforts with them, and you partake in the returns first-hand. There are a lot of dudes and dames out there doing a lot of good, and these more than anyone else have made my blogging-hibernation not torturous. There is JayOsbie, a young man full of ideas with an equal dose of energy and steadily climbing the ladder of success; there is Dawan, one of the most versatile people I have ever met gradually carving a niche for herself; there is SphinxPhoto who turned her hobby into a passion and now money is chasing her;  there is Fagro, my guy who is always so productively busy, Lagos with its perennial traffic jams is antithetical to his dreams; there is Dotun, my cosmopolitan friend striving to light up the world and simultaneously save the planet; there are my friends at work who made the days run by fast despite the stress; and then there is Family who always make me feel blessed beyond words and simultaneously encourage me to strive harder because I owe it to them as a life’s duty to always give them the best in life.

Like a pen, I have to at some point run out, and I think I have reached that point. I leave for today, and I promise not to go into hibernation again, and this is a promise I plan to keep.

Lest I forget, thanks Obums for getting me out of dormancy. Your words reinvigorated and prompted me to write this weekend. I really appreciate.

Thank You!
God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!


Twitter: @SirRash
Facebook: Rasheed SirRash Adewusi

Sunday, June 1, 2014

LETTER TO WENGER 01

Dear Arsene,

It is with joy unbridled and happiness unlimited that I received the news that you have appended your scrawly signature to a new three-year contract, and you will be at the helms of the football affairs of The Arsenal till 2017, and probably beyond, because your style and the vision of Stan Kroenke fit like a mortise to a tenon. I have nurtured the dream of writing you this letter for a very long time, but I needed to be sure you were not ditching the Emirates, because it would be pointless writing to you about a future you had no interest to feature in. As a Gooner for the better part of 16 years, you have been the only Manager I know at my beloved Arsenal, and the thought of another Manager sitting in the front row of the Home Bench at The Emirates still looks hazy to me at the moment.

Actually, I have waited so long to write this letter, but not as long as I have waited to enjoy the kind of feeling I had on Saturday 17th of May when I saw players in Red and White with Victoria Concordia Crescit crested on their badge lifting the FA Cup Trophy aloft in sheer joy and ecstasy. That feeling has been missing for the better part of nine years, and now that it is back, I want it every season like it used to be in the first seven years of my fanship. This is the reason I am writing this open letter to you Le Professeur.
Honestly, Arsenal Football Club will always be grateful to you for what you have done for the Club both on and off the field. You brought your cosmopolitan ways to Arsenal and changed the Club to a consistent contender and a serial winner. Off the field - a new training facility, a new fitness regime, a new diet plan, a lure for continental players, and a new stadium to cap them all were all your ideas. And on the pitch, you ensured the Club remained competitive during years of lean finances despite the infiltration of the English game by filthy money from Russia and later from UAE. Only a fool, like that loquacious creep working for that emotionless Russian Mafioso, will question your position in Club Football. You are one of the few good men remaining in football, but in this age and time, character and attitude off the pitch count for little, only success on the pitch count for much. Moreover, your Legacy, though indubitable in the Arsenal Folklore, will be driven by the Media from the perspective of years of drought; you know bad news is what sells the most.

Objectively, I did understand those periods of lean finances, and unlike that Twitter-follower-whoring, incompetent-at-journalism, BOOM-shouting-only-when-we-score twat, I defended your actions and decisions everywhere I could; but that is now water under the bridge and I want a squad that can stand toe-to-toe with any squad in Europe. At the moment, we have a Very Good Squad but we need at least four more players to turn it into a Great Squad - a competent back-up Goalkeeper, a versatile Centre Back, a Young-Rugged-Skilful Defensive Midfielder, and a Ruthless Striker (an upgrade on Giroud). Let me add that if Vermalaen does leave, we need two Centre Backs considering Sagna, our deendable emergency Centre-Back, will also leave. Being a shrewd spotter of talent, I trust you to buy some known quality or unearth some diamonds in the dirt. Next season, Arsenal will be Challenging, not just Participating, in Four Competitions, therefore, we need a big squad with Depth and Quality. All round quality is what keeps a team together, Fabregas departure to Barcelona was predicated on the dearth of quality in the squad he captained – Almunia in Goal, Senderos at Centre-Back, Song in Central Midfield, and Adebayor as centre Forward - I still get those nightmares occasionally and I tell you, only consistent trophies can fully bring an end to this torture.

In the same vein, a little bit of ruthlessness is needed to have a committed squad. In this age where the average footballer earns far better than Medical Doctors, the least they could do is give consistent committed performances. Any player who could not prove his worth in two seasons should be let go. Being a Father-Figure is all good, but you know not all sons are reliable. Most Professional Footballers are not sons to be groomed and molded into better human beings, they are mercenaries selling their expertise to the highest bidder. They rarely buy into any plan that does not involve them getting hundreds of thousands of Pounds at the end of every week. I know you have hope in human nature, and you believe no one is beyond redemption, but we feel serious hurt when a bumblebee like Song plays well for a season and hurtles off to Barcelona, or the inconsistent Nasri bounced off to Manchester City after a decent half-season, or the sicknote Van Persie ran-off to Manchester United after a fantastic eighteen months which were preceded by six years of being consistently knackered, six years when you always left his space open in the squad to the detriment of the team’s attacking abilities. I know we consider ourselves classy, and we stand by our players in their time of needs, but it is tedious when all we as fans could brag about is Class. Moreover, do players respect Class? Of course, the little boy inside Van Persie does not, neither does the mature hipster inside Alex Song, neither does the mediocre ogre inside Adebayor, nor does the ugly cunt inside Nasri.

On a lighter note, now that you have steered us through the stormy waters of austerity and we have gazillions of cash available to improve the Squad a la all the Partnerships, I hope I can safely assume we will not be seeing signings like the Almunias, the Cygans, the Silvestres, the Andre Santos, the Parks, and the Bendtners who as a butterfly considered himself an eagle; and let me just put it out there, I will buy your autobiography, just solely because I want to know what the signing of Park Chu Young was really all about. As a realist, I know we will not be making signings like Ozil every transfer window, but at least we can add players from the top of the crop or maybe the layer directly below the top, not scraping the base of the bushel as in windows past.

Le Professeur, you lead the famous Gunners with Canons crested on their chests, and we the Gooners have been Loyal (unlike Chris Brown’s Babes), now is the time to bring the Glory Days back! Make the Owners match their Words with Actions! Build a Formidable Squad! Let us bring Victoria Concordia Crescit into play once again! Let The Arsenal become the undisputed Pride of London! Let “Come On You Gunners” not sound hollow and shallow again! Let Trophyless Seasons become Ancient History! And Let Gooners across the Globe regain their Pride of Place in the Court of Bragging Rights!


SirRash (A Gunner to the Bone Marrow)

Thank You!
God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!


Twitter: @SirRash

Facebook: Rasheed SirRash Adewusi
Google+: Rasheed Adewusi

Sunday, March 30, 2014

THE TRIPLE THREAT

Watching the Comedy Central Roast of Donald Trump, the Queen of Mean, Lisa Lampanelli, talking about a fellow roaster Larry King said “in this business, Larry King is known as a Triple Threat because at anytime he could have a heart attack, have a stroke, or shit his pants.” This got me reeling in laughter every time I watch that particular “Roast”; but this is not the case when I think about the triple threat to the future of the youths of this country, I always struggle to keep back the tears. Stark Illiteracy, Drug Abuse, and Legalized Gambling are the triple threat to the future of the Nigerian youth.

Come on guys, you mean you don’t cry every time you read comments on blogs and websites? The youths cannot keep a conversation going without resorting to ethnic mumbo-jumbo and verbal assaults; and these are usually written in English that is at war with the standards of spelling, grammar, or context, you would think the law has been rewritten to allow everyone determine what the rules of spelling, grammar, and context are. Yes, I know English is not our first language, but how many people can even write in their mother-tongue? Please, do not come to me from that angle. Is it not disheartening that we have so many schools, public and private, from the Primary to the University level, and our youths are still stark illiterates? Most of the Youths cannot keep a logical argument going, they cannot draw conclusive deductions or inference, and they do not read. All the guidance we need in this world is in books, but the youths will not read. Imagine my disgust when Achebe died and I came across some youths who had smartphones and had never heard of Chinua Achebe, come on guys Wikipedia and Google should be bookmarked on every youth’s browser for the nation’s future sake. Most of the time when I see this, I ask myself- are these people normal or are they under the influence of some substances? Maybe!

Substance Abuse is also another threat to the future of the Nigerian Youth. Substance abuse has been around from time immemorial, but it has never been this blatant or pervasive from time immemorial. I remember growing up, anyone who smoked hemp was considered a deviant and anyone who is suspected of taking cocaine or heroin is considered a shame to his/her family. Now, these are considered some of the coolest things to do. Not so long ago, taking a hard drug is considered one of the three axes of ignominy, alongside armed robbery and prostitution. Nowadays, substance abuse is considered a fad of maturity. It is hard to believe that cannabis is an illegal drug because you can always see people smoking them everywhere you turn, and our youths are so creative with its use that they boil and drink it like tea, they also spice their food with it. Yet cannabis is not the worst of the drugs that most youths have become dependent on. Benylin with Codeine is a staple drug for some, while some are slaves to painkillers even when they have not lifted a finger at all. Then comes the creative sniffing of petrol/diesel fumes, sniffing of drainage dregs, and the sniffing of cocaine. Come on people, are you not scared?

Now comes in the cankerworm of Legalized Gambling. I used to remember people pointing at other old people who look as if they have wasted their lives and singling out “pool” as the sole reason why they were never-do-wells. Gambling used to be a vice meant for the demon-possessed and the cursed, but now, it is for everyone. From Government-floated gambling medium like “Lagos Lotto”, to private ones like “Baba Ijebu” to the countless sports-based ones like NairaBet, 1960Bet, Bet9ja, SportsBet, MerryBet, and any other Prefix+Bets you can think of. Gambling is in concordance with the average Nigerian love for the get-rich-quick syndrome, and people will tell you that even life itself is a risk and when nothing is ventured, nothing is gained; but not everything we term risk is actually risk, some are actually stupidity, and I believe gambling falls perfectly within that scope. I am all for one using one’s knowledge and expertise to profit oneself (is that not the only sane thing to do?), but when you think because you watch a lot of football you can always predict the happenings in the next football matches, I begin to doubt if you have not been sniffing too much of “drainage dregs”. If a lot of people actually win, the Gambling outfits would have gone into extinction; the percentage of people who actually win is infinitesimal and the probability that “e fit be u” even less infinitesimal. Gambling is meant to fleece the people of their hard-earned cash with the promise of multiplying it for them, but that promise is like a mirage that keeps shifting its position once you get close.

Honestly, I will not pretend to have solutions to the ills I have highlighted above, and thoughts on the way forward will be most-welcome from you, and while I am still waiting, let me go to Nairaland and read some more of the mumbo-jumbo; then take a walk around my neighbourhood and try to hold back the tears at young guys smoking and sniffing their lives away at every junction, while also trying not to laugh at the guys lamenting over missing the 1960Bet Jackpot of six million naira because Chelsea lost to Crystal Palace.

Thank You!
God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!

Twitter: @SirRash

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

A HEARTLESS GOVERNMENT. A TACTLESS PRESIDENT.

HEARTLESS: Listening to the President speak during the last media chat I dare not say my President is stupid. No, no, I dare not. The statement uttered that corruption is not the number one problem of this nation can only come from a head that thinks nothing but ogogoro. I have not seen corruption so pronounced in my years of existence in this country than it is under this ‘transformation agenda”. How can just few people that are employed by us, paid from our collective revenue tell us we are not seeing what they are seeing?’ Ask the Coordinating minister of the Economy’ the President retorted; that is, talk to the Prime Minister, Ms Okonjo-Iweala.


The recent Oduahgate is long expected when many of us did not deem it fit to talk about the shams that are being done at the airport, especially Murtala Muhammed International Airport (MMIA), and we started praising Ms Oduah for her adroitness. Good work my foot. Billions were quoted for the renovations but what do we have to show for it: Leaking roofs, dark passage way to the tarmac, nauseating toilets, I know we all are thanking God that finally our airports are getting the much desired facelift that will make them to be regarded as world standard but in all we are much scammed than served, I think, this time worse than in the past. Billions have gone but our roofs are still leaking. They should have stuck to the earlier claim that Madam is rich enough to buy the armored cars worth 225 million naira from her personal purse, after weeks of noise from Nigerians, we would have swallowed that better. I would not want to talk about the blood sucking vampire in her because how can a reasonable person submit that these excusable air crashes are God’s doing even when we all know that God does not do evil. I am waiting to know the outcome of all the Administrative and Investigative Panels set up to investigate an obvious case of scam that the blind-cum-imbecile could even attest to. Anyway, it is typical of this government’s Transformation Agenda for billions to get missing and not a single pulled off the perpetrators. Oil Subsidy Scam is a current and will be a recurrent example. SURE-P is another, I wonder how Baba Christopher Kolade allowed himself to be so used in this regards. Baba!


They said we are not broke as a nation but only having issues with Cash Flow. Madam Prime Minister, I don’t get. Why do some people try as much as possible to present black as white? Aunty, it is obvious we are in a mess as it has been obviously stated by the Governor of Central Bank and Governors of some states as they said never have their allocation been so delayed and deducted like under the present dispensation.


We have accusations and counter-accusations. The economy is affected by about 400,000 barrels of oil being stolen everyday by oil thieves. One would wonder if the NNPC and the almighty Minister of Petroleum could give us an estimation of barrels of oil being stolen, how come we do not even have an estimate of oil that is legally being taken out of our wells to be refined in other countries. I have searched records I have not found such account anywhere. Please, if anyone has it, I will be glad to have a copy. I looked with so much anger as Ms Diezani fondled herself in front of millions of Nigerians, dipping her arm inside of her blouse and caressing herself during the Subsidy Regime Investigation Panel in the National Assembly and I asked what happened to decency? Was she practically telling the men or whoever on that panel ”let me go free and I service you free”? That attitude could only come from a whore, and that kind of buttresses the insinuations of the great services she renders to Mr President which makes her untouchable.


Promises upon promises but this government is never ready to deliver on anyone of them. Our universities have practically been comatose for months due to the government irresponsibly reneging on the agreement entered into by ASUU and the Federal Government in 2009. “LET YOUR YEA BE YEA IN ALL YOUR DEALINGS WITH ONE ANOTHER”, so says the Bible and one would have believed that after a return from Israel the President would have thought to act in line with the admonition of the Bible in dealing with people. The President, rather than honour agreement, foot-dragged to the point where a life was lost in the bid to finally resolve the crisis, a life taken by a government vehicle, on a road neglected by the government. Professor Iyayi, God bless his soul, paid the ultimate price.


TACTLESS:  Governors have been deified, the G7 Governors most especially. Take Amaechi for instance, he has become more popular than he was before the President picked on him wanting to make him a scapegoat but like the story of the donkey that fell into the well and refused to die shaking off the pieces of earth meant to bury him and turning such to make steps that brought him out of the well. Such is the case of Amaechi. He has used the media so well making him to be seen and read by all and sundry even in the remotest parts of the country and the world at large. I wonder what the aides of the President do. Any student of politics will know that sometimes in politics you court the friendship of your purported enemies in order to drown their popularity. Obasanjo Vs Tinubu and Obansanjo Vs Osoba should be case studies for them. I am using recent events so that the President’s aides will see themselves for the inept clowns they are. In the former, Obasanjo refused to give Tinubu, an opposition Governor, the allocation due to Lagos state on the premise that Lagos state created more local governments than enshrined in the constitution, the intention was to muscle and starve Lagos state of her allocation believing the state will not be able to perform well enough to be credible enough to win the next election so that the almighty PDP will take over the state. Tinubu being a tactful politician sourced funds internally and he left a mark that stands him out, such that even till today Lagos state has become a model for Internally Generated Revenue (IGR) that other states in the country look up to, inadvertently making Tinubu a godfather. Rather than Tinubu going into oblivion, Obasanjo’s muscle made him to realize his potentials to go beyond the ordinary. Today, Bola is a political superhero, take it or leave it.


On the other hand, during the 2003 Gubernatorial Election, Ogun state, the homestate of Obasanjo needed to be “captured” by all means to give the sitting President, Obasanjo, the credit of delivering his state to his party. Obasanjo devised what I call “eat from the same pot but poison the enemy” tactics. He went to Ogun state on the day of the election, invited his brother, Osoba, to his home, they ate, chatted and played the game of draft while the election was ongoing. That is, Obasanjo courted Osoba’s friendship and doused his vigour on the day of the election so that he won’t be able to make any last minute moves he might have had up his sleeves.


These current President’s aides are not even trying to rescue their boss’ image from the pit of incompetence where it is currently wallowing. They are making him look so incapable of playing the politics that is expected of him. The years of “wet e” politics are long passed. What is happening in Rivers state is just making Amaechi more prominent because he is not coming back for a re-election so he has nothing to lose in a way but it would have been a plus for the President if he has one more friend in Amaechi. Muscle does not beget friendship especially when you are playing this game called POLITIK.

 
Ms Okonjo-Iweala, when she came during Obasanjo’s government, helped in negotiating many deals that took us out of our deficit quagmire, but lately I do not think this Madame Prime Minister is doing what is right. She is the only one seeing that the economy is good even when her brother in CBN is saying otherwise. Kudos should be given to Obasanjo, though he is a man fraught with  faults, he should however be commended for standing his ground by not allowing anyone to come with CVs to intimidate him and today it is obvious that he himself did some brain work , I think more because he had shoes when he was in the military so nothing must have entered into his system to have gone to affect his thinking to believe that once you have a CV that reads IMF, AFDB, and some numerate skills that do not translate to obvious developments and growth of the common man, then you should be taken as the almighty even when you yourself claimed to have a PhD.

I will urge the President’s aides to let him know that one does not cut a red tape at the foundation laying of a house, but until such a building is completed; one does not talk from both sides of the mouth, such will betray one’s mental acumen when as a sitting President you respond “I don’t give a damn” on national television to an issue bordering on national malaise. They need to arrange his schedule to allow him do some reading and get him books on topical issues bothering on nation building because it is demeaning for the office of the President to refer questions on job creation and national growth to a private individual. “Dangote has said he will help us….”


Please let the President do more brainwork that will translate to national development so that he can salvage his present sorry records.  The world is a civil place where election and re-election is based on records and achievements respectively. And I must confess that people are wiser and will not fall for I HAD NO SHOES the second time.


ADEBAYO COKER

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

KISSING-AND-TELLING IN HIGH PLACES

I know! I know!! I know!!!

I did promise I would not disappear again, but I only went and reenacted my own remake of “Gone With The Wind”. I apologise again, and as my people say, it is this hill here that blocks my view of the hill over there; therefore I have put structures in place to ensure the hill over there will be bigger than the hill here to counter-balance the view-blocking, hopefully. But it has been good news all this while: between the last time I was here and now, I have become both a HUSBAND and a FATHER. That might imply I have more and bigger responsibilities, which might also mean lesser time for blogging (obviously, I have less time for blogging already), but that might also imply I have more time (finding something else to occupy my time when Wifey and Mothers have taken over the TV and the Remote), let us just wait and see. #FingersCrossed

Now to the question that jolted me out of my blogging-inertia – kissing and telling, why do people do it? Personally, I believe whatever a man and a woman do together behind closed doors, as long as it is consensual, should remain locked behind doors, I mean no one has to see or hear it. Naturally, the participants do not have to tell us, and we do not want to know; but going by Ese Walters’ piece which I have taken the creative liberty to retitle “An Epistle on Self-Inflicted Pastor Abuse”, and the visibility the said piece has been accorded in cyberspace, it seems I am the only one on the queue waiting to board the bus to “I-Dont-Care-If-You-Kiss-And-Tell-Land”.

Kidding aside, I would not have been riled if people had just left comments like “LOL”, “LOOOOOOL”, “LMFAO”, “ROTFLMAO”, etc but seeing people swallow the bait of “abuse” and hailing her like a modern day Joan d’Arc really got me pissed off. Come on folks, this babe deserves nothing but the Bradley Manning treatment. Someone please explain to me how Ese Walters was abused in that story? Don’t get me wrong please, I am wont to believe her story, partly because I consider most of the so called men of God, or are they gods of men, as frauds; and mostly because I know stuffs like that go down in many places where people dress to kill, talk to be noticed, walk to be assessed, spend to impress, and act to outdo everyone else - church atmosphere nowadays is just like a party without the alcohol and tobacco. I am not going to try and paint anyone as wrong or right in the prelude to how the two of them ended up under the sheets, but for Ese to start crying “abuse” afterwards is beyond hypocritical to me. If you have placed someone on such a pedestal that you collapse when they blow air in your face, would you not be mumbling like a baby’s toy with a bad battery when you start crying foul when they have consensual sex with you? I don’t think I need any level of grace to label Ese Walter a CHARLATAN. I am not saying Ese Walters is right or wrong; neither am I saying Biodun Fatoyinbo is wrong or right, but the word “abuse” is a blatant misnomer in that story..

More disheartening is that even in the realm of politics and the discussion of national unity, we cannot seem to escape the kiss-and-tell merchants. If I ask the pertinent question: how do we unify Nigeria? I bet the majority will mention football, music, and good governance. But according to Femi Fani-Kayode, the solution is quite simpler than that – Let us all have "long-standing and intimate relationships" (innuendo caught FFK, well done) with as many people from all the other tribes as possible; that way, we (Nigerians) would all have become detribalized. We all know one of the major problems with Nigeria is ethnicity/tribalism, and if as a public figure you are accused of being ethnocentric, I am wholly behind you when you go all out to defend yourself. Such was the case for Femi Fani-Kayode whose seldom-rational but always-scathing expositions have brought the tag of “a tribalist” on him. In refuting the tag, FFK reeled out names of three women of Igbo extraction whom he has had "long-standing and intimate relationships" with and concluded that those sexual relationships definitely exonerate him from being labelled a tribalist. I am sorry FFK, you might not be a tribalist, but you are definitely a scummy and uncouth specimen of a lesser animal than a human being. You are nothing but another idiotic kiss-and-tell goat. How could you embarrass women you had consensual sex with like that? Seriously??!! That was the only route you could ply to redemption?? Of course, he did some damage limitation by coming out with an apology; but someone really needs to plank this clown on the head; maybe his brain might be realigned and he would start thinking before talking.


I think I have ranted enough for one post. I hope to be back very soon, but just in case I disappear, you can simply assume I have taken it upon myself to embark on a journey to unify Nigeria the FFK way. I need to “know” –I mean know in the Biblical usage- at least one babe from every tribe in Nigeria. You bet that is not an easy task; from every nook to every cranny of Nigeria I need to fish out women to roll in the hay with, and by the end of my sojourn, I alone standing would have become a detribalized Nigerian and an epitome of inter-tribal unification. Someone really needs to plank my head too from the four cardinal points.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

THE POLICE IS YOUR FIEND


The recent news of the arrest of @eggheader by men of the Nigerian Police for taking pictures of an uncompleted windmill in Katsina has jolted my memory and brought emotions pouring out like tears from the face of Rachel Oniga. For clarification purpose, @eggheader is a high-ranking official of the Nigerian Twitterati and his arrest generated the expected brouhaha on the internet: from the netherworld of surprises, attractions, and confusion called Twitter; to that open court called Facebook; and the haven of opinions called blogosphere, the news was broken, disseminated, analyzed, dissected, buried, exhumed, and at the moment is simultaneously lying-in-state in different parts of the internet.

I have to confess @eggheader is a lucky man, he was told why he was arrested, he was questioned like a gentleman, his belongings were not seized, and he was released on the same day, these were the luxuries that were not afforded to yours truly when the Police offered a taste of their friendship to him at around 8:30pm on Wednesday, 14th February, 2007. It was a breezy Wednesday evening but I defied the elements to go and watch my beloved Arsenal play against Bolton Wanderers in an FA Cup replay match at my favourite viewing centre on Old Yaba Road in Ebute-Metta, my hood, where I grew up. Arsenal won the match 3-1, with two goals from Adebayor and one from Ljunberg, but I did not see the match live because I was rounded up by the Police on my way to the viewing center.

It was a commando style attack that would have rid Nigeria of criminals if they are deployed on the right people at the right places. It was like reliving that scene from the movie 44 Minutes where the cops came in from all angles, blocked all exits and focused the high light beams on the criminals, only that these policemen were sporadically shooting into the air, and the light beams were danfo headlights, and we were not criminals, just innocent bystanders and passers-by with neither weapons nor criminal intents. We were all rounded up and loaded into the Danfos with gun-toting policemen hanging on the doors like lawless bus-conductors. I quickly called Lakers to inform him of my predicament, unfortunately, he was not around and it was then that it dawned on me that I would be spending that night in a police cell. We were all taken to Adekunle Police Station, beside the State CID popularly known as Panti, in Ebute-Metta. On getting there, men who could afford it were let go after greasing the palms of the policemen around and the rest of us were relieved of our belongings and shirts and herded into cells already filled-up with some other guys who I am reluctant to refer to as criminals considering how I came to find myself there.

Exaggeration aside, that was the longest 10 hours I had ever spent in my life, before I spent another 17 hours in a “The Young Shall Grow Bus” from Lagos to Sokoto for NYSC Assignment. The cell was like a village playground with red dust on the floor, with the smell of sweat and the odour of filth permeating everywhere. To maximize space, we were all made to sit with our legs spread wide apart and then bent upwards at the knee such that the back of the person in front rests directly on the stomach of the person at his back and his arms rests on his bent knees. The experience was all like a dream and I kept trying to recall how the day started and how I managed to end up in Adekunle Police Station. I had spent the whole day indoors hugging my GMAT Study Guide in preparation for Aptitude Test at Zenith Bank the following day, I only left the house in the night because of my undying love for Arsenal, I guess we can say Arsenal owe me some barrels of happiness. It’s a fair exchange.

People started flocking to the station around 6am to do what they had to do and take their people home. The policemen kept coming to call people out the way a nurse normally calls patients in to go see the doctor. My Dad, who lives in Alagbado in Ogun State, eventually came to the Station around 7:30am and did what he had to do and I was called out of the cell. While I was waiting for my belongings which were taken from me the night before, the policemen emptied the cells, brought all the inmates out and make them sit in a semi-circle; from nowhere, different weapons ranging from daggers, home-made pistols, automatic weapons, rounds of ammunitions, and several sacks of marijuana were all packed in their front; a television crew from NTA Tejuosho started filming, and a spokesman for the police started explaining to the reporter that they got a tip-off about a criminal hotspot in the heart of Ebute-Metta which they followed up on, and with their expertise and tactical nous they were able to apprehend the criminals and recover the weapons and drugs on display. I was astounded and confounded! How could people be this heartless?! These were innocent passers-by and bystanders who were rounded up, some right in front of their houses! I was lost for words and I kept looking at all the policemen trying to convince myself that they were actually human-beings.

Like lightning, the reality of the ordeal I had just experienced hit me at that point, and all the pent-up emotions had to be unshackled and I broke into tears and I continued to weep uncontrollably for about 30 minutes. I imagined the cheap publicity I would have earned for a wrong reason. For a brief moment, I imagined all the ladies I have eared my collars up for while explaining to them why we should be together. I envisioned what my family and friends would feel upon seeing me being ‘advertised’ as a hemp dealer and user. @eggheader is a lucky man. Deep in the heart of police cells across the country are innocent folks who today are incarcerated for just "walking around" on their streets. It is not an experience I wish to recount again or wish any innocent Nigerian experience. Each time I see a police man, several thoughts rape my mind. In my private moments however, I process the thoughts of who they are clearly. They are members of our society. They belong here. They were not imported from Mali or from Kabul. If suddenly the police force in Nigeria is friendly, we should be afraid. It is tantamount to the kind of fear mixed with surprise you feel when suddenly you have power in your house for 24 hours. That’s UnPHCNish! @eggheader, if it is the Gangnam Style you prefer, please help yourself. If it is Azonto, please feel free. You are a lucky man.

Thank You!
God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!

Twitter: @SirRash
Facebook: Rasheed SirRash Adewusi


Saturday, August 11, 2012

PROJECT SHAME… WHAT A CRINGING!!!


Everyone is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.  ~ Albert Einstein

Nowadays, verifying the authenticity of the origin of quotes on the internet it is akin to passing a donkey through the eye of a needle, but the above quotation looks like a statement Einstein might say, just like all those gbagauns sound like something Dame might utter, so let us agree for the purpose of this discourse that the great Physicist actually said those “words on the marble”. Suffice to say I absolutely agree with Einstein (of course we all always agree with Einstein), but Einstein totally ignored a scenario where the fish actually sees itself as having the ability to climb a tree, didn’t he? And that was the exact scenario that became a recurring decimal at the auditions for the reality-tv-show “Project Fame”. There are only two explanations for the flotsam and jetsam that swarm up on the auditions:
  1. They have auditory impairments so they heard the word “shame” instead of “fame”, and that impairment also explains their being absolutely tone-deaf too.
  2. They have visual impairments thus they read “shame” instead of “fame”, and that impairment also account for missing out the phrase “singing talents” while reading the basic requirements.

What I saw repeatedly during the one month audition was an array of clowns who came onto the stages at different venues to entertain us with their glaring lack of singing talents. Many were so terrible they could not even recall the lyrics of songs they had come to perform, and some had voices that would any day rival a mating frog. In synopsis, the Project Fame Auditions needs to be entered for the next Academy Awards, and it will scoop all the awards in the category of Comedy.

In retrospect, I do not simply think most of the buffoonery we witnessed was the fault of the buffoons; rather it was really a candid reflection of what is considered the acceptable standard nowadays -mediocrity. Look at the so-called artistes we are tortured with on daily basis by the television and radio stations, how many of them should actually lay claim to the name musician? The only studio the likes of K-Switchand D’Prince should have been allowed into is a photography studio for their pre-wedding pictures, and Orezi and Hakym The Dream should not sing in any other place other than their respective bathrooms, but all these guys have gone on to record songs and shoot videos; they are enjoying airplay and are gracing the different colours of carpets that celebrities walk on nowadays. If those guys can be on TV, why can anyone else not be on TV? Such realities must have motivated those clowns who should be in school studying or in a vocational institute learning a craft, or anywhere else apart from those stages, to go climb the podium to audition for Project Fame.

Deeply depressing also is the realisation that those auditions boldly highlight the ills in our society. Our ethos is hinged on cutting corners while pursuing the unending thirst for glitz and glamour. Necessarily, a society must have entertainers, but what does the future hold for a society which most of its people want to be entertainers? Youths nowadays do not consider it natural to go through the test of the fire to become golden, rather they are hoping to wake up in the morning and find a gigantic box full of gold beside their beds.  Most of the girls are fixated on being actresses, models, and dancers; while the guys all want to be musicians and comedians. They all want to be under the spotlight, smile for the flashlight, but are not ready to strive under the sunlight. The proliferation of Reality TV Shows further fuels this belief that anyone can hit the jackpot and become an overnight celebrity. I am for Reality TV Shows if people actually go there to exhibit some forms of talent e.g Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, Project Fame, Nigerian Idol, Naija Sings, Box Office, Nigeria Has Got Talents, and some others; but the essence of Big Brother still eludes me till today, and I think it should have suffered the same fate as Koko Mansion and House 5, but such is its popularity magnitude that despite its inane pointlessness it is only available on DSTV Premium Bouquet. Isn’t that dishearteningly scary?

And the scare continues…

Thank You!
God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!


Facebook: rasheed.adewusi

Saturday, July 7, 2012

VANITY FAIR: MULTINATIONAL COMPANY EDITION


I work with a Multinational company whose Global Head-Office is in India and Africa Head-Office is in Kenya. If you like, snort and laugh in derision at the two countries I mentioned above, I know I work with a truly multinational company. There are so many perks in working with a truly multinational company in case you do not know: for instance, Guinness full-employees attaching a photocopy of their official identity card makes securing a UK visa something akin to Lionel Messi scoring a goal, too easy; and I bet they don’t detain Multichoice full-employees at Oliver Tambo International Airport, Johannesburg, asking for one nonsense yellow card.

Interestingly, what I consider as the major perk in this multinational company is the opportunity it affords me to observe at close range – women and their over-reaching vanities. You see women at different stages of struggles to best not only others but their personal self. You do not need any copyright permission to rename my company’s Head Office “Vanity Fair Building”, and I am sure the name will be more than apt. Name it: kids/issues, vacations, shoes, wears, accents, cars, anything, is an opportunity for my colleagues to display vanity.



The perfect place to start this exposѐ is in the morning and in the convenience, because that is when and where the day starts, isn’t it? The usual time that you have traffic in the female conveniences is early in the morning. You might be wondering: Don’t they have toilets at home? Don’t they keep their toilets at home clean? Don’t bother yourselves, the reason why they go into the toilet has nothing to do with answering the call of nature, but answering the call of make-up. Facilities managers are actually employed to manage my multinational company’s conveniences, so it is always spic and span; and have I mentioned the conveniences have a lobby that is fitted with mirrors covering 75% of the walls? The lobby provides a stage to display the art of make-up application: touch-up the eyeliner, dab some blush, rearrange the Brazilian/Indonesian/Indian hair, rub some hand-lotion, and do whatever you can imagine women doing when they make up. Don’t start asking me how I get to know what they do in there, and don’t allow your mind run riot, please chase the devil away before it possesses your soul, I don’t go into the female conveniences,  but I know what they do there, I have LadyRash don’t ever forget that please. But the funniest part of the whole thing is what they do on coming out of the convenience compartment, the first person they see, they greet in so loud a voice it can wake the dead up, the mission is to make sure they get your attention and you see the fantastic results of all the minutes in the convenience.




Next we move to the small matter of VACATIONS. Note that word “vacation”, we do not call it “leave” in my multinational company, we call it “vacation” and when it is just a few days, we just refer to it as “taking some time off”. If you go on vacation, the day before you resume, just travel to Shoprite and get all those London chocolates and bring along to the office as you resume; that way you would have fit in very well, and if you can add a little accent to it, then you would have fit in perfectly. What I am saying is none of the women in my office has ever spent her vacation in Nigeria, unless she is planning to resume in another company.

Hush please!!! I want to reveal a secret to you; I hope you are reading alone? Check behind you to make sure no one is reading this over your shoulder because what I am about to tell you is a very important top secret that the SSS are not even aware of. ALL THE WOMEN IN MY OFFICE ARE TERRORISTS, NOT JUST TERRORISTS, THEY ACTUALLY COME TO THE OFFICE WITH WEAPONS OF MASS DISTRACTIONS!!! They come to the office every day in these high heels that make this ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko sound that whatever you are doing and however deeply you are immersed in it, that ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko sound will terrorise you into submitting to being aware of its annoying presence. I mean you will expect these ladies to sit down in one place, but I bet you that is the last thing they do, they keep strutting up and down and all over the place, and driving you mad like Terry-G’s music. That ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko sound will become imprinted on your consciousness, etched on your subsconscious, embossed on your imagination and carved into your memory; if you do not hallucinate about it afterwards, just rest assured you cannot die by any accident, only by natural causes. And none of my female colleagues wear anything made in Nigeria, I cannot verify, but every one claims so.



Seriously, I mean seriously, as in no jokes, the next time you see a caring man, whether married, engaged, or just in a relationship , his wife, fiancee or girlfriend works in my multinational company’s Head Office. And the next time you come across an uber-smart kid, find out from him/her, the mum must definitely work in my multinational company’s Head-Office.

Thank You!
God Bless!!
See You Later!!!


Twitter: @SirRash
Facebook: Rasheed SirRash Adewusi

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

MONOTONOUSLY BORING

Good morning and welcome to a brand new day. Yes, I know it is already afternoon, but I have decided to call it morning because I have not really done anything today, so to me, the day is still as fresh as new. That is the truth! I woke up (thanks to the alarm); had a poo; took my bath; put some clothes on; put on a matching pair of shoe; went to join the staff-bus; got to work; sat at my desk;  put my PC on; checked mails; surfed the net; and that was how this came about. Tell me in all sincerity, could I have broken any part of that chain of events? Like I could say I did not feel like putting some clothes on, what other option do I have, go to work naked? Or like I could say I got to work and I did not feel like sitting at my desk, would I have gone to sit on the CEO’s chair? Or like I don’t feel like putting my PC on, could I just sit and stare into empty space, or maybe put my head on my desk to take a nap and hope my snore will not disturb the whole office? Nothing that I have done today, that I did not have to do. The short thing I am trying to say, but which requires a lot of words to say is: ROUTINE, MONOTONY AND BOREDOM are the hallmarks of my job. My Job Title should read - Manager: Boredom and Monotony.
Imagine if you live your life just going through the motions every day! The only times I get some form of excitement is when it is cascaded from the Top. Let us say there was a network interruption during the weekend, and the company lost some Revenues through that; of course, that would negatively impact Revenue Projections and distort AOP; which invariably means the Top-Line will reflect a Negative Variance versus Target; and the Bottom Line will not be spared because OpEx  was constant all through the interruption; and the Africa Group is not ready to listen to any excuse from the OpCo Heads; and the OpCo Heads believe the Revenue was only missed and not lost, and it is somewhere waiting for us to come and recoup it, and we only have to come up with a plan to go and recoup it, and while recouping it, nothing must happen to the other streams of Revenue, as in this is not even additional, it is our birthright that we have misplaced and we have to go and reclaim, and while reclaiming it, the main Revenue must also be fully maximized, if not surpassed. Now you are beginning to understand what I mean by excitement. In reality, it is PRESSURE. You have to come up with a short-term-strategy that will achieve what a long-term-strategy failed to achieve. But when you deliver the strategy and the execution and the result comes in positive, you have that sense of fulfillment that I can only liken to an orgasm. Apologies for my choice of analogy, it is just that like those fantastic strategies, orgasm is something that I have personally achieved, repeatedly. Unfortunately, Indians are extra-ordinarily meticulous, finicky, fastidious, fuss-budgety, and persnickety such that mistakes are few and far in-between; thus excitement comes once-in-a-while; and in-between the “whiles” lies a very long sequence of hours that have to be filled-up by being busy doing nothing. And SirRash finds that MONOTONOUS, BORING.
I can see some people grimacing already: thinking this dude must be an ungrateful lad *heavy frown*…. He has a job and he still complains *heavier frown*… The work is even simple, imagine, he even blogs at work *WTF*… Actually, I am not complaining, the only other job I can trade this job for is the JOB with a BIGGER ORGANISATION, that offers DOUBLE THE MONEY, and BETTER OPPORTUNITIES which must include working from home so I can blog from home and stop blogging at work, because sometimes my conscience pricks me. Jah (clasps both hands, put them just under my chin with the two thumbs stroking my beards, and lift my face up to the ceiling), please forgive me, You and I know I would not be doing this if there were some other Word,  Excel and/or Powerpoint sheets to occupy my time.
I think I have tried for now. Let me go and pay attention to the 22 Tracks of Banky W and his EME Sidekicks Empire Mates State Of Mind (The Album); who knows, I might even review the album later. For now, let me go and listen and enjoy or or probably endure, who knows.

Thank You!
God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!

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