Happy New Year!

2018

It’s half an hour to April 12th, and you’re probably wondering what New Year I speak of but as they say, It’s your morning whenever you wake up and I am only just getting my New Year resolutions vibe on.

The last few months have been those where my goals and motivations were locked away in my head. Now I have finally got to the point where I make a list (hallelujah!). Don’t cringe just yet – I’m not about to do that right here and share all my hopes and dreams and deepest darkest fears, but tonight I’ve been thinking a lot about just how much we dream of, and how little we actually do. (I should say me, but because misery loves company I’m making this sound like you and I are in this together as partners in bad behavior :p ).

I know without a doubt that there is so much more we can be if we put in a little more work. (Okay, maybe a lot!). And why in the world should we be less than we could be? There should be no excuses, no weak surrenders. To quote someone I do not remember “…we are young. Now isn’t the time to live the dream. It is the time to build it”. This shouldn’t be the year we sit in the bleachers as spectators of our own lives. It’s time to play. Hard. Write your script and direct your life. While you’re at it though, be nice. This should not be the year you’re an idiot. Kind is the new cool. Shine some light everywhere you go. Spread good energy. Lend a listening ear. Offer to help. Be genuine. Be selfless, and put yourself third.

Cheers to a blessed 2018!

Go ahead, share:

When I Become Rich and Famous…

(The soundtrack to this post is the song by Praiz that begins with the line above. Feel free to play it while reading. JK).

At the weekend, my friend had a family function in a town a few hours away, and we planned to go out and support her. On that morning, I and another friend set out to Sagamu- the town where the Owambe was taking place. It was a nice day, the skies were clear and it was promising to be a smooth ride. There was just one little snag: Neither of us knew the way there. The straightforward route which we could have taken is via Lagos- Ibadan expressway . However, just days earlier travelers down on their luck had spent up to 15 hours stuck in traffic on it. No kidding. There was no way we were going to try to find out ‘what the road was saying’ that morning. After donning my Ankara asoebi, and getting picked up by my ‘co-owambe-attendee’ who was driving, and we began our trip.

Because we serve a living God, we were just in the Lekki area when we spotted a car driven by a gentleman wearing the same fila colour as the party we were heading to. Taking a closer look, at the passenger side was a lady dressed in the same Ankara! Google maps for what?!

To make it better, their car was escorted by a security vehicle and some policemen. We entered full wanna-be mode. You see, I and my friends are pretending to be regular folk at this point in our lives – the kind that get stopped at check points by the Military, the Police, Road Safety, LASTMA, VIO, Civil Defence, TRACE, OGROMA, LAWMA… I exaggerate, but you get the gist.  We bluff when we’re fully complaint and go all “Oga abeg” when, for whatever reason, we are not. (For the record, we are law abiding citizens. Thank you). On this day, however, we were determined that there would be no stopping us. So complete with blinking indicators, we joined ‘our’ convoy and were on our way. It was so fulfilling to very quickly wave through the police checkpoints that we came across. Thank God for asoebi! In addition, it was just fantastic not having to stop and ask for directions as we found out there was  no way at all we would have known the route without our guides who I suspect had no idea they were guiding us. On and on and on over bad, winding, narrow roads we went with total confidence while jokingly examining the possible scenario of the convoy actually going to a different destination first, before heading to ours. Our brilliant plan in the event that happened, was to jejely park and wait with/ for them before we all to continue to our destination when they’re done. Aren’t we the smartest?!

A few hours into the trip, however, ‘our’ security vehicle suddenly took a detour off the road, leaving us and lead car. This was when confusion set in. At this point we started to wonder: wasn’t that ‘our’ escort? Surely the synchronized indicator lights with both cars turning their lights on and off together (with us following suit) couldn’t have been coincidental.  Or perhaps they had noticed us trailing them and devised some sort of way to fix that?  There had been a fourth car which we thought was in ‘our’ convoy but had unexpectedly turned out to be heading someplace else in Epe earlier in the trip, and we wondered if this was yet another wrong assumption. Or very simply and most likely, they had gone to run an errand. Without missing a beat however, we continued to follow lead car as we exited onto the Sagamu – Benin expressway.

Or attempted to.

I suspect you already know but in case you don’t, I’d like to tell you that there is no such thing as a comparison between a 2005 Acura MDX and a Range Rover Sport. On that expressway, we were reminded of the the timeless lesson :know your place and act accordingly. There was no amount of firing the accelerator that was going to save us here. It’s hard to explain how it felt when in a matter of minutes, we literally could not see ‘our’ car anymore. The dusting was epic. There was no hope. With humility in our hearts, we whipped out phones and called on our forsaken friend, Google Maps, to save the day in order not to suddenly find ourselves in Benin or Akwa Ibom.  The stone the builders rejected…

After stopping to ask for directions a few times along the way, we successfully made it to the town, spent a few more minutes looking for the venue and finally found our party. And guess who we saw right there? The security car parked right behind lead car!

We were determined to join our convoy back home, but that didn’t exactly work out as planned. The lure of a trip without Police stops was not enough to tear us away from the live band and small chops. Luckily for us, on our way back to Lagos, by some stroke of luck we happened upon another convoy while waiting in line at a checkpoint. We coyly joined it, sped past checkpoint and a few others, and followed it all the way into Lekki. The funniest part of that one had to be when the Policeman in the escort vehicle prevented another vehicle from getting ahead of us so we could all continue to ride together, blinking indicators and all. Road trips really could be fun 🙂

Lest I forget, the purpose of this post is to let you know that when I stop pretending to be ordinary,  I’d let you join my convoy.

Go ahead, share: