Binniversary

Hello guys! A great week or weekend to everyone! Would you believe it?!! It is two years last week that my blog started! I don’t know what to say. What I can say though is that I find it hard to believe that I have actually had a thing or two to write about in that space of time. What this means is that I may actually have something to write about or I may at the end of the day be a closet chatterbox. Seriously, if I had known that I would have had to come up with something almost every week of the year, I’d have chickened out of the project. This is where I offer my very hearty thanks to my beloved manager Nkem who trusted her instincts from the very first email I sent her. Even now I’m in her black books for not striking the hot iron to herald my binniversary(?) – I knew the computer would have a problem with this word – it already has that ugly red error line underneath it. Fine, my blog’s second anniversary.

The events in the past week have reminded me of a proverb my late dad told me once. I’ll write it in Igbo first. O bu mgba mgba, ka o bu okpo okpo? O bu ya ka nwanyi ji ukwu dimkpa gbaa n’ala! Don’t you just love my language? Okay, it translates thus: should I wrestle her or should I punch her? That’s how the woman hurled the great man to the ground! I can almost see the dazed expression on your faces, especially Nkem’s. I’ll explain.

A renowned wrestler in a community once had a sore disagreement in the marketplace with a woman who was so furious with him she challenged him to a fight. Incredulous, he stared at her and scornfully accepted the challenge. As she circled him in the centre of the spectators that were quickly gathering around them, he stood arrogantly declaiming his dilemma to everyone. How was he to deal with this upstart? He had broken the backs of renowned wrestlers from other villagers and here was this mere woman come to challenge him. How was he to deal with this situation? What tactic was he to use? If he boxed her, she’d probably expire from just a blow to the head! If wrestling, he could turn her into a paraplegic just by hurling her to the ground. As he stood there pondering aloud his dilemma to everyone with an ear, the woman rushed at him , grabbed him by the ankles, pulled with all her might and sent him crashing to the ground! In the Igbo culture, if during a fight one’s back is thrown to the ground, that one is vanquished regardless of how badly beaten the opponent may be. Suffice it to say the woman carried the day. A lesson in indecision.

You guys should by now know I love my culture dearly; it’s also one of the reasons I still mourn my dad’s passing till today; I missed out on a lot of things I could have learnt from him before he left – stuff I would have shoved down your throats and everyone else’s who’d give me a listening ear. Frieda calls me a dinosaur because I use proverbs that 'make' no sense whatsoever when I use them to summarise a point I’m making. You see, proverbs are the spice with which we season words. Like stew to white or even jollof rice, or gravy to mashed potatoes and steak, or afang soup to pounded yam are proverbs to speech.

All this rigmarole is just to tell you that I had so much to write about in the past weeks I couldn’t make my mind up on what to write about as it’s always rewarding to get feedback from you guys.- yes, we crave love too. O bu mgba mgba ka o bu okpo, is what has put me in trouble with Nkem for not hammering out the maiden post of my blog’s second anniversary last week. I will be decisive and choose okpo for my next post. For my punishment I’ve been compelled, against my better judgement, to put out a post everyday for the next four days. I am being pushed to the edge, of the stream, here. Let’s see who will drink that murky water! Have a great week everyone!