A Sub Space Adventure

 Good week, and morning, to everybody. I wish I was in a very bad mood right now but ‘unfortunately’, I’m not. Why this absurd wish? Well one of my beloved readers, Formerly Stealth Reader – God I love that name!- once said on my post, Carnival Free , that I always sound so jolly and that she, I think it’s a she, wants something angry from me. Frieda laughed so hard at that one. The times she’s had to play nursemaid to my endless frustrations, anxiety and uncertainties are legion. But then again, she is a true woman; she always makes sure my laundry is thoroughly washed clean before hanging it out to dry. So Stealth, your wish may be a long while to come but come it may, owing to the fact that Nigeria has a lot of anger in her. It’s been fuel scarcity for the past three months so for now let’s hope that that the patriotic citizens of this country, and they are in the majority, prevail over the traitors in keeping her as a unified peaceful whole. Not perfect I know, but it is the first step to taking us to the road to prosperity AND accountability.

  Last weekend was sublime. I had been invited to go along with a professional body to inaugurate an upstanding citizen as the patron of the body. The occasion was to take place in Warri, our host’s hometown, an oil producing city in the Niger Delta area of Nigeria. We were to, after the ceremony, spend the night at the host’s holiday resort in Escravos, and island about a hundred kilometres from the coast. Enter stage left, my first miracle, the airplane. No, it wasn’t just any airplane, it was a propeller aeroplane! I had been longing to get into one because I’d heard about its flair for depositing one’s ingested dinner onto the one’s, or his/her neighbour’s, lap by way of turbulence. I’ll fast forward to where I excitedly boarded the plane after ogling the pretty black propellers that looked like magnified domestic fan blades made from liquorice. I stooped all the way down the small cabin to my window seat which was positioned right beside the wing, buckled my seat belt and waited for the engines to start. They did, with a whirr, but the blades didn’t turn! And then they did! Faster and faster they went until they became a very fine blur. I wondered what it would to be like to be deaf and walk backwards into them. Would I feel the pain? Would death be instantaneous? What would the blood spatter be like? Would it be all over the wings and fuselage? My fixation with Dexter is getting the better of me. We taxied to the runway, turned, and began to hurtle down the tarmac with unbelievable power. In fascination I watched as the wheels were retracted into the overhead wings and we were airborne. I must admit I watched with some trepidation we climbed reluctantly higher and higher. I will also admit that take offs and touch downs scare the daylights out of me. I always feel like the engines might give up on take off and send us crashing back to earth. I thought of Frieda and wondered how the news would be broken to her, what falling back to earth would be like. Would I scream or even have the time to soil my boxers? All these and more I thought about as I looked at the miniaturised busy Lagos plan shrinking further away beneath me. The seat belt sign went off and the apprehension passed.

   It was a pleasant flight; the sun was out and the coast along which we were flying was clearly visible apart from the occasional fluffy clouds that dotted the skyscape (is there a word like that?) beneath us. I could tell when we got to the mangrove swamps from the large bodies of water and numerous spider web networks of the same element that transversed the area. As I watched, the undercarriage came out as we began to prepare for descent,  and I felt like we were a big bird about to swoop on its prey and I felt my belly drop in my mouth when we did swoop. I’m sure my face went a few shades lighter as I watched the wings bank this way and that, my fingers digging into my armrest, the aircraft readying itself for a smooth landing while staring at the hypnotic veneer of the landscape looming closer and closer, wondering if the two would be married together in a perfect mesh. We landed.

 For me it was an adventure. It was an adventure because it had all the ingredients needed for any adventure, endeavour or enterprise: will, excitement, research, faith and fear, and the acknowledgement of all five in one. These, I think, are what make the experience of an adventure so exhilarating. The fact that one conquers ones fear, powers on with his will and faith, is motivated by the excitement and contains risk through research is what makes it an accomplishment no matter how small or big. I for one can say I have accomplished a propeller planed adventure to Warri. I would love to hear yours, big or small, in your anticipated comments on this post. Have a great week everyone!               

       

The River Runs Through It

A good week to all once again. I don’t know about other parts of the world but it’s really baking here. The humidity alone is brain throbbing. Join that with the typically horrendous Lagos traffic and you’ll have a fair idea of how we’re faring over here. The real meaning to the phrase ‘suffering and smiling’ is right here. Nigerians? We are a formidable people; whoever thinks otherwise should go and fetch water with a basket and give us to drink. Oh no, no, no, I’m not done griping yet; the overworked transformer on my street blew sometime last week and we’ve been admiring the stars at night while swiping at those ubiquitous free loading blood sucking tenants. My generator’s been working overtime sometimes forcing me to choose between power and the deafening noise from the… Oh my, they just brought the power back! The transformer must have been fixed! There is a God in heaven; and a conscience among those in charge. Ah! The air conditioner is on and I’m typing merrily away now. Bliss – while it lasts!

Where was I? Yes, griping. Griping about the awful conditions we’re we are being forced to live under. Without wanting to become too political I can’t help but want to add a voice – and maybe influence a collective one to change our lot for the better. A friend of mine once asked me a question while we were holidaying in Poznan in Poland sometime ago. We were drinking polish beer in Murowana Gosclina, the old picturesque town square and admiring the pretty young ladies milling about in their various pursuits. Mukul is a doctor turned actor turned director and is one of the few people I love discussing philosophy with. Before going out at night to storm the night clubs (East Europe has the best) we would sit at cafes in the square arguing for hours on end over different schools of thought – he with his Muslim cum agnostic views and I with my Christian and Nigerian ones.
“Kaloo,” he asked in that exotic eastern accent of his.
“Yes?” I replied, waiting for another topic to chew on.
“How many people are there in China?”
The answer seemed quite obvious but I answered anyway.
“About one point six billion?”
He bowed his head in thought for a moment then looked up at me.
“Can you imagine what would happen if all billion plus people were to come out en masse and piss into a ravine at the same time?”
I just sat there staring at him and the dam burst. The image of a furious hot yellow flash flood emanating from a billion and a half people obliterating everything in its path was too much for me. I roared and roared with laughter and it was all I could to keep from rolling on the ground and making a nuisance of myself. Those are the kinds of idiots I have for friends! I love this life… and yes, I am still on course.

I have often thought of the situation here in my beloved Nigeria and thought of the best way to make our voices effectively heard in the most non violent way possible. Not long ago the wonderful women in Kenya decided to checkmate the political impasse in their country by imposing a sex strike on their men. Apparently even prostitutes were paid not to have sex with customers. I’m not sure how effective it was or if it’s over yet but it definitely set me thinking of Nigeria, a nation with a population of about a hundred and forty million. Now if two million of us were to struggle uphill of the national assembly with laden bladders; women discreetly arranged on one side and men standing proudly on the other, and let loose, what a mighty rush that would be! What a river? What streams? What brooks? What impetuous rivulets coursing through corridors of power, suffusing expanses of plush carpets and rugs in their wake. Our little babies would brush aside any security checks, sending security agents scampering for safety, politicians hopping onto their seats; one hand holding up their robes and the other their noses. I can imagine them wading through the uric flood to get to get to their SUVs and of them thinking of getting to work in the days to come. The stench of our displeasure of their handling of affairs of state would reverberate in their nostrils for days on end; not to mention the lingering state of affairs in the halls. The cleaning bill would be substantial I’d expect, but it certainly would be one well spent. Then those people at the helm of affairs would sit up and enact policies that actually benefit the masses in the knowledge that another demonstration of our collective will is just a pure water sachet away. Just a thought!

In summary, I believe we as a people grossly underestimate the power we weld as individuals and as a collective unit regarding changing our destiny for the better. While a few people may strut about at the helm of affairs falsely believing they and their favoured ones are born to rule to the detriment of the governed, it is important to remind them from whence the power given them emanates – the people. The beauty of it is that it can be done in the most peaceful way like Mahatma Gandhi did with his passive resistance to break the crippling hold Britain had on India. We as Nigerians can stand up and voice our disapproval of the inept way our economy is being handled by people who have no business being there in the first place. We should actively love our country and strive for the best for her and our children We can make our voice heard, so let’s do it. I’m done philosophizing so have a great week everyone.


My air conditioner purrs away
Drying my sweat away
By my ear the mosquitoes sing
While I brace for the inevitable sting!