Another random post

I'm a bit on the odd side. Some say finicky, others say interesting, while a third group says ‘special’ (thunder fire you!). I tried defining myself as eccentric once, but my boss carefully pointed out that I’d first have to be rich. Oh well. Can I then say I’m artistic? Unique? One-in-a-million? Whatever man, I’m just me, and that’s all there is to that.

So I’m a bit finicky. In a weird sort of way. A week after coming back from a trip, I’m still living out of my travel bag or box, but heavens will fall if my toiletries are not arranged in a straight line, from the biggest (or tallest) to the smallest (or shortest). I find this somewhat dist interesting. I'll leave the sitting room in a state, but almost throw a fit if a grain of rice falls to the floor. And here’s the best part: despite the fact that I always see things from a different angle, I can’t stand frames hung asymmetrically. I don’t know. I guess I lead an interesting life.

But I have an idea! Each time I leave the room in a mess and my wife wants to throw a fit (she eventually does, anyway) I’ll remind her as calmly and offhandedly as I can, that I’m trying to prepare her for the mess a baby will definitely make sometime in our journey together. Ain’t I the most forward-thinking guy ever? If this doesn’t work (I already doubt it will), I'll feign ignorance of the mess, deny ever making it, or just shut the hell up and clean it up.

If at some point you felt this post was nothing but a rant, you’re absolutely right. I have no great wisdom to pass on right now, so I’m doing the next best thing: writing down the words as they come to me. After all, isn’t that how we’ve managed to survive as a nation these past 52 years?

This is coming late, but at least it’s not not coming: Happy New Year peoples. God bless y’all!

Oh, and here’s another poem. Come on, you knew I was going to do that!

Song of the slave.
Since the day I sucked the air
Before I sucked my mother’s breast
I knew what it was to be free
My spirit knew; my body bare
Was free from all entanglement.
I was born free, and so I am.

Though these chains limit my steps
Though this burden break my back
Yes, though your whip must leave a mark
Do not think I’m broken yet
Do not think you’ve caged me in
I was born free, and so I am.

I do not fear an uprising
I sleep in peace, under the open skies
My spirit soars beyond the stars;
My body, a story of many scars
Is left behind, I journey far
You are the slave now, I am free.
22\10\2005.

Coming up for air.

Hey y'all! I know, I know. It's been quite a while since I wrote something (4 months actually), and I don't have any excuse, smart or otherwise for my absence. Oh, wait...work! Not good enough? I know.

Today, I'm putting up a poem I wrote some time ago - a little over one year, actually. It's a poem that with the challenges I've had to face over time. It is a poem that makes a statement of defiance, as well as a poem of encouragement. I hope you like it. I hope it speaks to you. Above all, I hope it makes you see a glimmer of hope in a darkened sky.

Enjoy.


Untitled.
Just before the dawn of night,
Show me again that ray of light;
The wishing star, the wondrous sight
Of silver lining in the night.

Of hope, near broke, but standing still;
Of will more firm than bars of steel,
Of a life though gone will never kneel
To death, but soars in liberty.

Sing once more of a heart made sure
By faith, though sense may ask for more
Sing again of faith and how she bore
The saviour we all adore

Sing of life, sing more of death
To flesh and all that is this earth
Sing of God and how His breath
Is more than gold, is true life’s wealth!

22/10/2010

WAKApedia

So, on one of those days when my mind went a-straying - as it normally does - it stumbled upon the idea that perhaps, providing en-route entertainment for commuters on the BRT system wouldn't be so bad after all. This got me thinking about the many possibilities this opportunity could spawn. How do you do something that is at once engaging and relevant, 'revolutionalising' the way people travel? How do you get people to buy in? How do you start? How do you sustain such an idea, especially with very limited resources?

A couple of months later, and after many discussions and informal brain-storming sessions, I am proud and pleased to announce that WAKApedia, a collection of blogs from Bloggers like you and I is now available on select BRT routes in Lagos.


A lot of work, thoughts and eotions have gone into this work, and I want to say a special thanks - this is by no means an exhaustive list - to those who have made this possible: Nonye for being there through the ups and the downs, Mage for being one heck of an editor, Mazi for being the best go-to-guy and Business Director ever, Ahmed for his hustle, Fred for his belief in us, Myne Whitman for her Naija Stories contribution (waiting on you for more), Incoherent for her contagious enthusiasm, Freaksho for always being there for a chat and a post and a host of others too numerous to mention.

Now please go to www.wakapedianaija.com where you can read some of the articles from the three editions out so far. Also leave a comment or two if you may. There's also the Facebook page for you to like and leave comments on as well. You can also follow us on Twitter . Most of all, however, you can send us an article or ten for the Blogpaper. You never can tell who might be reading!

Okay, so that's me and what we've been up to this past couple of months. Like I've been praying this year, may God bless our hustle, each and every one!

Muse.

Random thoughts on a Monday morning.

A colleague of mine's in some sort of dilemma. Although we've spent a better part of the morning laughing about it, it is in no way funny. I should know, I have been there. The matter at hand? His wife, a staff of one of those 'New Generation' banks, has been mandated along with her other colleagues to meet a target of opening at least 8,000 accounts by December 2011. Now who's laughing? Not me. Not you, I hope.

But it's crazy. How in God's name did we get to this sorry state where banks have become more of a slave master and less of a professional, respectable financial institution? Methinks that if you want to have a better understanding of the 'almajiri' system in Northern Nigeria, all you have to do is work in a bank for a few months as a 'Relationship Manager' a.k.a marketer. #justsayin

This week, I pray that God will grant us all the desire of our heart, and that He'll give us the sort of job we all can enjoy. I pray that above all else, He'll give us peace in our different places of work. Lord knows we need it. With all the news of people dying right, left and centre, the least we can do is enjoy our work, nay, life before we go.

Have a great week people. May God grant us our heart' desires. And for the love of our friendship, visit www.facebook.com/wakapedianaija and lemme know what you think!


PS: Yes, I had to put a poem....or two. Enjoy.

Untitled.
Night has come
As quick as morn
But there’s no need to mourn.
For the evening sun
Is a shining star
To him who’s life’s begun.

So dry your eyes
Tis all but lies
That which this life denies.
These gloomy skies
Shall shine as day
A blessing in disguise.
27/01/2010.


Untitled.
Just before the dawn of night,
Show me again that ray of light;
The wishing star, the wondrous sight
Of silver lining in the night.

Of hope, near broke, but standing still;
Of will more firm than bars of steel,
Of a life though gone will never kneel
To death, but soars in liberty.

Sing once more of a heart made sure
By faith, though sense may ask for more
Sing again of faith and how she bore
The saviour we all adore

Sing of life, sing more of death
To flesh and all that is this earth
Sing of God and how His breath
Is more than gold, is true life’s wealth!

22/10/2010.

Be warned; this is a lazy post...

I'm sitting at my desk, brain-drained and experiencing a writer's block. Add to that a bad case of 'nigerities', money-making schemes and just where I would rather be right now, then you'll understand why I've resorted to one of my favourite tricks when I can't concentrate enough to put up a proper post: poems.

Relax if yo may, as I dish out to you two poems written some tie ago for such a time as this. One of the poems is about death, but do not worry...I'm not suicidal. I just wonder at times how prepared we all are for that most certain of destinations.

I hope the poems inspire you; I hope they make you think. But most of all, I hope you like them enough to forgive me for putting up this lazy post.

Until I put up a proper post, enjoy...


UNTITLED
Just before the dawn of night,
Show me again that ray of light;
The wishing star, the wondrous sight
Of silver lining in the night.

Of hope, near broke, but standing still;
Of will more firm than bars of steel,
Of a life though gone will never kneel
To death, but soars in liberty.

Sing once more of a heart made sure
By faith, though sense may ask for more
Sing again of faith and how she bore
The saviour we all adore

Sing of life, sing more of death
To flesh and all that is this earth
Sing of God and how His breath
Is more than gold, is true life’s wealth!


The traveller.
When the reaper comes
When his cold feet clop
On the rough, stony floor
Which I lay upon
And demands I follow
Though he grin at me
Let your heart not fear
Be not in sorrow
When his fingers slide
In a cold caress
Around this limp canvas
Below my watery eyes
Be not dismayed
For I have been ready
When they reaper comes
Tell him I’ve been waiting.

One of those posts...

I promise I'll put up an intelligent post one of these days. You know, a post with all the right punctuations and grammar; a post that will make you laugh or maybe cry; maybe a post that will make you think deep. Or maybe I'll just put up another poem - which really is one way to know that I've been to lazy to write.

But I'll put up an intelligent post. Okay, let's not get too excited...let me just put up a post. Skip the intelligent part. As fagged out as I am, a post will do. Someday we'll do intelligent. But not just yet.

Work. That's what gotten to me. I remember in '07 when I got into advertising, I thought "wow! This is cool...I get to wear jeans to work all week, I get to call my boss by his name, and I get to pretend the reason I turned in work late is because I'm extra smart!" Four years down the line, I'm thinking "dammit! Where the hell are my co-workers from? Why does everything have a timeline of yesterday? Why is there not much information on this brief? What lost-in-time planet do these clients come from? Bastards!" But in the end, right now, if you were to offer me a white-collar job with more pay and or asked me to continue in advertising, I'll take advertising any day!

Why? Well, when you think of the opportunities, no other industry permits you to 'think' on the job in your sleep - at the office - or have loud arguments about the human physique while your boss looks on, bring in brews of a certain kind all in the name of getting acquainted with a client's product (if you drink, that is), create a make-believe world and present them at review meetings as actual insights, play loud music all day long, or just refuse to do any work because your dog's step mom just died.

Forget it...I'll take this industry cos I doubt any other one will take me and give me the unrealistic freedom I'll demand.

On the flip side....you'll most likely sleep more in the office than in that new apartment you took a loan to pay for; you'll most likely call your partner a colleagues name in those intimate moments, because the last thing you remembered was said colleague shrieking about stabbing you in the eye for saving the wrong work on the server just an hour to the presentation; your neighbours will most likely call the police to arrest you as you sneak in to the house by 1am; your mom will tell your uncles she suspects you live under the bridge cos you're never at 'home' whenever she comes visiting; and, your boss will most definitely drive a much better car than you, leaves way earlier, and seems generally happier.

So, why am I still here? Someone told me in '08 that advertising was like a drug that sucks you in and never lets you go. I kind of agree with her. Kinda. I also think I'm here because well...me and advertising are doing just fine. I love her, and in her own twisted way, she loves me back. Let's see how this relationship goes...but for now, we're still cruising.

And yes, I'll put up that intelligent post one day.

yin, yang

I haven't lived that long, but I have lived long enough. Long enough to know that that which is hot will soon get cold, or that that which goes up will come down; I have learnt that the night heralds the morn, and that every death is life reborn.

I haven't lived that long, but I have lived long enough. I have learnt, and I have forgotten. For that I am grateful. For that I rejoice. I may not have lived enough to die, but everyday I die enough that I may live. I haven't lived that long, but I have lived long enough.



Such is yin, such is yang.

Every rise gives way to a fall
As a push becomes a pull
Mountain top, valley low
A dead seed, a sprouting tree
And so the circle of life is complete
In dark and light
In flight and fight
In peace and strife
In death and life.

Such is living
Such is death
Such is yang
Such is yin
Such is the summary of all we are
That we push and we pull
We break and we mend
For there is no dark without light
No enemy without a friend

And on this lies the balance of life
We live that we may die
We stand that we may fall
We gather that we may lose
We are full that we may hunger

Such is the balance of life
Such is the summary of who we are

So when you weep little one, empty yourself
That laughter may find room enough in your belly
When you dance to the drums reserve strength
For the day comes when you will be dragged against your will

Such is our fate
Such is life
Such is yang
Such is yin

Such is heaven and earth
Such is demise
Such is birth

Every rise gives way to a fall
Every push becomes a pull
A dead seed becomes a tree
Such is life for you and me.

It’s all GOOD.

It's been a while since I last wrote. I don't know why. It's not like I've not been wanting to, or that the world somehow decided to start coming to an end all around me. But for some inexplicable reason, I've just not written. For a long while. And it saddens me.

 

Last year was eventful. From coming back to advertising (actually at the end of the previous year) to moving agencies and then houses and getting married, it was rather lively. Sitting now to think about it, I believe I should be more grateful than I have been for the year now laid to rest. Though it had its ups and downs, it was a defining year in my life, and like the good book says, we go through fire that we may be refined as gold. If anything, 2010 was the refiner's fire.

 

In 2010 I made new friends, lost contact with some; I lost a very dear cousin and gained a new brother; I had issues with family, then realised that there are friends who stick closer than brothers; I reached a dead end and a way was made out of no way; old wounds were torn open, but I found solace in love; there was turmoil but I found peace. 2010 was eventful indeed, and I am sure now that it could have been no other way, for, like the Spoken Word Poet, Amir Suleiman said, 'even the beauty of birth leaves its own scars'. 2010 was eventful, but 2011 is GOOD. Very good.

 

And so I survived. And, if you're reading this, you did as well. For that we should be grateful to God. This may be coming late, but from the bottom of my heart, I want to wish everyone who has made it this far a very happy new year. Remember, even in some pain, there is great gain.

 

Welcome to the GOOD year.

Nigeria at 50 - Day 3: Rickety, raggerdy bus ride...

Nigeria at 50, Day 2 - Ochuko www.ochuko.wordpress.com


In Aba, like it is all over Nigeria, the bus is the prominent mode of transport there is. Quite ordinary and single-minded in its purpose of moving people from one point to another, there is nothing exciting about this motorised metal contraption.

Well, not until you get inside.

Deadbeat and ordinary as the bus may seem, it carries within it an amalgamation of some of the most interesting characters you have ever seen. From old men with toothy smiles to women with fat behinds, from young girls sporting the latest knock-offs to young men trying very hard to outquirk even Andre 3000, there is never a shortage of dramatis personae from a bus going from, say, Ogbor Hill to Ngwa road.

Nigeria, to me, is like that bus. Weather-beaten from years of neglect, rough-ridden by numerous inept and valueless drivers, running round the same route with no apparent focus, yet carrying the most optimistic and hopeful people I have ever met.

I am one of those passengers.

I am not your average once-in-a-year patriot who remembers to wear a touch of green every October 1st in solidarity with millions of clueless fellow Nigerians who rejoice at the thought of yet another work-free day; I am not your average smile-and-wave Nigerian who is grateful that at least there’s still life, and so we must hope for a better tomorrow. No, unlike the often-times docile passengers who are thankful that at least they got on an available bus, I am the one guy who shouts at the driver to caution him when he drives a bit rough; I am that guy that will take the conductor head-on for trying to take advantage of a passenger; I am that one guy that will threaten to report the driver to his superiors if he continues to misbehave; I am that one guy who will tell my fellow passengers off for trying to take up more space than is allocated to them. Because when you think about it, if this bus were not here, we would all have to walk for miles; if it breaks down, we will all be stuck in the middle of nowhere, and if it derails while we’re all on board, we’ll all most likely be dead. So yes, I have to speak out because this bus is the only ride to where I’m going.

I wonder if there are any other passengers like me. I wonder if there are any bloggers here who, although in this raggedy bus, will not just sit down and hope to God that the driver knows what on earth he is doing, but will speak out and demand that the right thing be done, the right road signs be obeyed, the right turns taken, and the right speed limits adhered to.

This may be a tall order, but when you think about it, there’s no option. As we celebrate our 50th anniversary, I will like us to have this thought at the back of our minds: we either lend our voices and strengths to make this nation work, or you can, as is the custom in Aba buses when you reach your stop, yell at the driver “Ka opuo!”

Happy Independence day Nigeria. One day we shall all be free.


Nigeria at 50, Day 4 - Diary of a Nigerian Girl www.diaryofanigeriangal.blogspot.com

Watch this space!

'Tis been 50years and the road has been quite long, join us as we celebrate Nigeria's Golden Age at oluSimeon www.simeoneomobaba.blogspot.com on 1st October, 2010.

A little piece of me...

In some respect, and regarding some things, I have become somewhat of a cynic. Unlike the everlasting optimist, I do not always see the bright side of things. But unlike his ever-pessimistic counterpart, I do not always see the dark side either. On the contrary, I am that guy at the back of the room reading everyone's words and listening to their eyes. I dance in the thin line between dark and light. I make my home in that split of a second when everything is conveyed and nothing is said.

 

For me, the unspoken is louder than words; the deed, more eloquent than sweet serenade.

 

I watch more than I listen. I question every word I hear. I question every motive. And sometimes, I fall flat on my face.

 

It is a character flaw, I agree. However, more often than not, I find that we all have conveniently learned the art of deception so much that we become our worst victims. Hence, the optimist and pessimist lie. The idealist and the realist lie. You lie and I lie. And we're not about to stop.

 

What to do? Step back a bit. Look from a distant. Listen to yourself. Question more. Love more. Live more. Laugh more. We have one life, and the best we can do is to take a moment away from all the lies and take in all of the richness of life.

 

That, my friends, is a simple truth.

 

 

Untitled.

The sons of men

In Abassi's eyes

Lay naked

Under the noonday skies

Though covered we be

Through a mastered craft

That we do not see

For we have believed

And we now forget

What we really are

In Abassi's eyes

We are sons of men

 

 

 

Such is yin, such is yang.

Every rise gives way to a fall

As a push becomes a pull

Mountain top, valley low

A dead seed, a sprouting tree

And so the circle of life is complete

In dark and light

In flight and fight

In peace and strife

In death and life.

 

Such is living

Such is death

Such is yang

Such is yin

Such is the summary of all we are

That we push and we pull

We break and we mend

For there is no dark without light

No enemy without a friend

 

And on this lies the balance of life

We live that we may die

We stand that we may fall

We gather that we may lose

We are full that we may hunger

 

Such is the balance of life

Such is the summary of. who we are

 

So when you weep little one, empty yourself

That laughter may find room enough in your belly

When you dance to the drums reserve strength

For the day comes when you will be dragged against your will

 

Such is our fate

Such is life

Such is yang

Such is yin

 

Such is heaven and earth

Such is demise

Such is birth

 

Every rise gives way to a fall

Every push becomes a pull

A dead seed becomes a tree

Such is life for you and me.

 

 

 

 

 

Untitled...

Change is going to come some how

Change is going to come some way

Change is going to come some day

But that day is not today



'Cos today, we are the masters of our own fate

The weavers of our own bait

Enemies at our own gate

So still we keep a date

With poverty and corruption

Unforgivable self-delusion

Confessions and absolution

With no real intention to stop



With no intention to stop

But why should you?



Your uncle is a senator

And with his fine-flowing signature

He sustains your recurrent expenditure

After all, he IS a legislator

And you know that we do not know

How much we pay to sustain him



So why should we stop?

Why should we change?

And if we should change

Why change now?



For you see,

Change may come some how

Change may come some way

Change may come some day

But that day is not today



'Cos today, we're about to come into our own

Today, we're about to sit on our throne

Power to the people – if the people are us

Ours is a government for us, by us!



So when you talk of change, know you walk alone

When the revolution comes, it will be televised

But we, we will sit at home

Critiquing, politicking, conscience cold as ice



And so

The fire of youth is deadened by the reality of truth

That we do not wish to suffer pain

Yet in us we crave for gain



But how can we eat of the fruit if we do not climb the tree?

How can we climb the tree and not scrape a knee?

And how can we scrape a knee if we do not go uncovered?

If we do not go naked; if we do not discover

That the ones we hurt

When we betray trust

That the ones who bleed

The very ones we curse

That the ones whose lives are torn away by us

Are the ones we do the worst harm – Us?

Her blood is blue...

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing VIOLA!

#okbye

I do this once in a while...okay, maybe more often now...

Okay people, today, I'm feeling some dark vibes. So, in giving into my mood, I post here two poems I wrote some while back.

Truth be told, I love the darkness.

Seriously...I walk into a public place and instinctively go to the corner that has my back to the wall and my eyes on everyone else.

My girlfriend says I walk 'by the wall' (whatever that means).

I have a knack of looking for the crack in every armour, cos I have this view that we all speak from the point of our bias, but try to put up a pious outlook. Then again, Lauryn Hill said "Everyday, people lie to God, so what makes you think that they won't lie to you too?" Just saying.

I've found out that life is as much dark as it is bright, and that most times, they compliment each other. None is more useful or beneficial than the other.

Embrace the light people, but respect the dark.

Ok...I'm rambling.

Enjoy...



Untitled.
Night has come
As quick as morn
But there’s no need to mourn.
For the evening sun
Is a shining star
To him who’s life’s begun.

So dry your eyes
Tis all but lies
That which this life denies.
These gloomy skies
Shall shine as day
A blessing in disguise.
27/01/2010.




The traveller.
When the reaper comes
When his cold feet clop
On the rough, stony floor
Which I lay upon
And demands I follow
Though he grin at me
Let your heart not fear
Be not in sorrow
When his fingers slide
In a cold caress
Around this limp canvas
Below my watery eyes
Be not dismayed
For I have been ready
When the reaper comes
Tell him I’ve been waiting.
22\10\2005.

on freaksho, ~sirius~ and all that's under the bridge.

Last week, Freaksho decided it was time to get ~Sirius~ with the rest of his life.

So he got married. Now, things are going to get ~sirius~ly freaky or freaking ~sirius~. Whichever way it works, I'm sure they'll be happy. (Ibiluv get your mind out of the gutter!).

It would have come to me as a bit of a shock, but knowing Freaksho, I doubt there's little he can do these days to surprise me - well, except he starts acting normal, that is. Ofcourse, I must add here that I was totally shocked - to say the least - when I found out that ~Sirius~ was _________ (what? you waiting for a name? free me jo!).

Anyways, here's wishin Mr. and Mrs. Freaksho a happy married life!


Now, let's talk about me.

Did I mention to you guys that I got a new job (again)? Well, this one's more fun, comes with more responsibility, a kitchen and a chill out room, which means I surely will be nibbling on a biscuit while watching the World Cup...all at work. Yeh!

Oh, and I got to meet my fav bloggers at Freaksho's wedding! Freaksho and ~Sirius~ (ofcourse), Incoherent and CaramelD. The only person missing was Ibiluv. Woulda loved to see that one (I can't wait to see what those naughty thoughts look like in person). And to think that a week (or two?) before then, I had done a shout out to all of them! Life, eh?

Vell then, here's me coming out of hibernation - I hope. Y'all have a blessed month ahead, and may all your hopes be met.

Amen.

PS: Incoherent, CaramelD, Ibiluv...though y'all don't like the question, I still have to ask (it's my blog, afterall)...when una dey marry sef? tehehehehehehehehe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shout out...

Freaksho, Ibiluv, Incoherent, ~Sirius~, CaramelD.

Where y'all at?

Ok. I'm done. Bye.

Boom!

That’s the sound of the silence
That shatters our celebration
It’s the sound as our hearts
Fall to our bellies in trepidation
It’s the ringing in our ears
Adding music to our fears
Call your loved ones
Call your peers
The apocalypse is here
And if you’re close to God
Get on your knees and say a prayer
For the souls that will be lost tonight
Jos has gone aflare!

A village was standing here

And Kratos is an impostor, you see
The real god of war lives here
His prophets, ever near
Pouring hatred into our ears
Till we fight and kick
And bite and kill
Still the purpose is all but clear.




So boom!
Boom! Boom!
And just in case you missed it...
Watch out!
Boom!
Yet again!

Yes, boom till the coal tar is red with blood
And boom to the most high – cos we kill for the lord
And boom to the infidels who will not heed his word
And boom till the earth is washed with fire like a flood

Washed with fire like a flood
I spilled my brother’s blood
For no real offence
Just that he doesn’t speak my mother’s tongue!

For how long will this go on?
For how long must our song
Be of burial and hatred
And stanzas of violence
Until love is an empty gong?

For how long will this go on?
For how long must our song
Be devoid of love and laughter and joy
And those little things we’ve forgot?

floating...

I think I’m lost. Floating perhaps. Steadily adrift in this mind-numbing sea of nothingness – an endless grey space where nothing seems to make sense, no matter how hard you try. A place where things can go from bright white to dark night without a moment’s notice, and the same thing you did yesterday is waiting for you today and tomorrow, until it snuffs whatever life you weakly cling on to.

There’s no need to count the days, for you see, time stands still here. So while a week is but a day, a month is just a year. And the more you run, the more you make holes in the ground from constantly marching in place.

Have you ever been there? Or is it here? Do you see me? Can you hear my thoughts? For while I’m lost, I may yet be found by you. And we may keep each other company as we float on. Lost. Forgotten. Alone.

Or.

We can tear our own skin and add some colour to this space. That way, they say, we will be free. But wait. Who can endure the pain?

Selah.

Opening Act...

It's the first day of 2010. I ought to have something smart to say. Something deep. or intelligent perhaps. Or profound. Or maybe even funny. But I don't. My screen, save for these scribblings, is as blank as my thoughts. On this first day of the second decade in this century, I am totally thoughtless.

Maybe it's the profound (albeit sparsely noticeable) awe of being alive today, or the thoughts of how 2009 came to a favourable close. Maybe I'm at wits end trying to keep up with the pace my life seems to have suddenly taken, or even taken aback by my vehemence in speaking out about my thoughts on Nigeria's political jamboree.

As I type this, I have no profound message to share, no life-altering secrets to offer. I am just glad that today, I'm alive and lucid enough to even realize that my thoughts are blank. That in itself is enough to make me speechless.

It is the first day of 2010. I have nothing smart to say, but everything to be grateful for.

Happy New Year Blogsville!