Warning- Identity crisis in progress?

Crap! I’ve been up since 3am and can’t go back to sleep. The battle in my mind just cannot end. I had just been through a phenomenal and experiential 3 day training and that was the beginning of the battle. I decided to purge myself of these thoughts and bring to rest the battle by working through my feelings. It’s funny how our experiences purposefully yet subconsciously form who we become. Growing up, I was taught to watch my behaviour in public and as many Nigerian children your parents many times didn’t have to say too much as long as you understood the meaning behind “the look”; I went to a school where I was told ladies are meant to be seen not heard. It was easy to abide by these rules because as a child I was shy, quiet and an extreme introvert. In my early college days I wrestled through some traumatic experiences that taught me that not only was I very naïve to the acute selfishness inherent in human nature, but that my kindness was interpreted as weakness, my trusting nature was looked upon as foolishness and my love and empathy for people was somehow an invitation to take advantage of me and had become a fertile ground for people to crap on me. People started to tell their stories about me, called me names and violated me physically and emotionally. I was confused, hurt and angry perhaps that my social story was viciously different from my personal story and felt very helpless and frustrated that I couldn’t tell MY story. I reached a turning point when a friend of mine told me that people will talk about you no matter what - good or bad - that’s just what people do. It was very profound I thought and it changed my life- I recovered from the sickness of caring about what people thought about me, was healed from the desperation of wanting to tell my story and finally became comfortable in my skin and allowing (actually realizing how powerless I was) any and everyone to tell whatever story they wanted about me, knowing that only my story was the true story.  Now I think I know why I can’t sleep- the warriors that I faced in my personal life as a teenager have now let out a battle cry in my professional life. Just as I felt in my high school days, I am expected to behave a certain way because I am in a certain position, and just like in my college days some people are telling a story about me because of who they perceive me to be; and perception they say is reality. The big difference this time is that I feel I have something at stake- my reputation as a valuable contributor and hence this strange dichotomy of how I conduct my personal and professional life is born. I’m supposed to show up- but did you not pay attention when I walked in the room? I’m supposed to be more visible but wait I’m the above average height lady with no hair and shall I say a charming smile- I can’t believe you missed that? I’m supposed to make my voice heard? Don’t you know I am a lady and I should be seen not heard?- besides someone else already made the point of what I was thinking and I don’t like to belabour the point! So seriously though to be or not to be that is the question? So I need to answer this question so I can end this battle, move on with my life and finally get some sleep! I choose to be and promise myself to allow the lessons and freedom that I experience in my personal life permeate through my professional life. I will admit that I will need some courage to do this because I know I will constantly be faced with the image of what they say is the “ideal” , and will constantly hear about how I should aspire more to fit into that image, and about the possibilities that lie ahead if I can bite on the bait of living up to the “ideal”; the only problem is I believe “ideal” is merely a mirage. So, in the words of Frank Sinatra “For what is a man what has he got? If not himself, then he has not” So I rest now and can sleep easy as I put the battle to rest knowing that in the end I did it my way. I am now making peace with whatever stories are told about me while knowing the truth about how I have chosen to “show up” and holding on to the joy I feel knowing how much value that I have to contribute and will always bring to the table. My wish for you is that in all your journeys in life you are able to find peace and joy by giving yourself the tremendous gift of being yourself.

Something to believe in

I attended and observed a Nikah (also spelt Nikai) wedding which is the traditional Islamic marriage ceremony. This was actually my second but I didn’t observe the entire ceremony the first time around. There’s something that leaves me just transfixed in each passing moment of a new experience and this was no different. So I was born and raised into a Christian home, and for a while there in my high school days had this passion and zeal for the Pentecostal brand of Christianity. I went to a school with friends that were Muslims, so seeing them pray 5 times a day and break their fast in a communal fashion was nothing new to me. Nigeria’s population after all is about  50% Muslim and 50% Christian.   If you ask me what I am, I will tell you I am a Christian much like I will check “Black” as my option when forced to choose amongst limited options. I say that because as I have grown and matured I have developed a relationship with a supreme being that many call by different names. I have also learnt many things from teachings from other “religions” that have made my life more fulfilling. So back to the Nikah wedding, right after the ceremony ended the party began. I was fortunate to get the seat I did because I think I had the best seat in the house since I was able to observe what I am about to describe. The music starts and the DJ is blaring D’Banj’s “Oliver Twist” and P-Square’s “Chop my money” with people getting into a frenzy on the dance floor,  I raised my head in the space above and I saw people doing the salat (Muslim prayer) and I  admired, actually almost envied them. Such discipline! Such focus! Such reverence for a supreme being! I believe what the world needs from humans is 2 things. First, each person should have belief or faith in a supreme being; second, try seeing if you can gain some insight from what the other person believes, maybe you might learn something but if you don’t just do us all a favour and shut your mouth! I’ve heard that people are afraid of what they don’t understand, so be afraid but shut up!

My supplication is thus: That you are able to open yourself up to other experiences that could add fullness to your life while you hold on to the faith that grounds you and defines your journey in life and thereafter. Until next time- "As-salam Alaikum Wa al-hub” (Peace and Love)

The Beauty of Struggle and pain

As some of you may know and for those who don’t I started blogging a year ago this month. It’s proven quite cathartic for me- an avenue to just let it out-my anger, angst, joys, all of it. Some of you also know that I have a deep appreciation for music. As I told a friend of mine- writing is like breathing to me and in the last year I decided to come up for some air; music feels that way too. I believe though that an essential ingredient to creating any piece or work is struggle and pain. The voice is an incredibly powerful instrument and I believe pain and struggle strum that voice to create what I refer to as music that emanates from the core. Some of the amazing voices I’ve heard musically tell the same story - the African Americans during slavery, The Igbos during the civil war, Blacks in South Africa during apartheid and the list goes on- please understand that I recognize that human suffering is universal, but these patterns validate my theory about the correlation between music and suffering.

I have taken another baby step in my journey toward  self-discovery and the quest to experience fully all the makings of me. I have decided to marry my passion for music and the essence of the things that I write about – and wait for it…..on radio. Yes, Ms I’d-rather-be-behind-the-scenes, Ms obscurity-is-more impactful than visibility, Ms I’d-rather-not-be-out-there. Yes, that Ms is going to have the opportunity to share of herself and hopefully have the blessing of having you share of yourself too via a program on www.myrootsradio.com at the end of November 2012. I’m excited about myrootsradio.com because of its unique offering of African music which engages, entertains and takes people of African heritage through a musical experience to a place and time that reminds us all of from whence we came and how deeply our roots define who we are.

Myrootsradio.com and I look forward to taking this journey with you, until then I wish that you always find ways to create beauty from your struggle and pain.

SHAME ON ME!

Yes, shame on me! Now that  proclamation was not meant to be self-deprecating but instead to create self-awareness and propel me toward self-transformation. I am a self-confessed skeptic about many things especially people and systems not that the two are mutually exclusive anyway. My skepticism led me to make a choice not to vote in 2008, America did not have a predilection for someone whose cutaneous hue was as such but people proved me wrong. The sense of hope was palpable then but it was more than just electing a president it was the hope that maybe just maybe the ugliness of the past could be put behind us. So today the ugliness of the past is not behind us, but the larger population wanted it to be realizing that in the end it’s about issues that affect all people and so they voted. Watching the president take the oath of office in 2009 made me cry for many reasons. Seeing how much people hoped and wished to get away from the past and chose to make their voices count, watching someone from an unlikely background hold the highest office, finally having a reason to maybe take a step toward believing in systems again, and also being reminded of how ashamed I ought to be of myself for not being part of the process. So from that point on I decided to get off my high horse that was daintily clothed in pragmatism and jump into the rigorous, time consuming and sometimes painstaking process of doing so I VOTED, yes- early voted yesterday. Much to my suprise the heavens didn’t open up but I felt a huge rush of kryptonite when I pushed the red button labelled “cast your ballot”. I had just unleashed my power, the power that made me equal to everyone in any cadre of life since we all have been allotted one vote, and mine had just been counted. I also did something else that I would never have done- I received a request seeking signatures to change legislature and make public lynching a criminal act in Nigeria stemming from the Aluu4 tragedy. I saw it, ignored it as I always do because I felt it was a road to nowhere considering this was being done in Nigeria. I soon remembered the commitment I made to myself to be a verb and not just a noun and I signed it. I didn’t have anything to lose did I? and the worst that could happen was what I already believed so my actions couldn’t cause further damage. And so even though I feel that in Texas I already have an idea of who will win – likely not my candidate I still did my bit and participated in the process; and even though the signatures for the Aluu4 may remain just that I vow to continue to participate not because I think I will make a change but because I just might make a change, and so that I don’t ever again have to say shame on me for not participating! Moving Forward, I urge you to live your life as a verb, and rock the vote.

The answer to the Nigerian condition

So Nigeria turned 52 on October 1^st, and for me it was another day at work so I did my piece by wishing “Happy Independence day” to the other lonesome Nigerian that I saw on my floor at work. The only reason I remembered  October 1^st this year was because it was “Work Day 1” aka “close” aka “very busy time for accountants at work”. Pardon me for not sounding patriotic or excited about “Independence” day, but pondering on what that day meant, and questioning why it means absolutely nothing to me was a journey that I had to take and it left me begging for a prescription for what Nigeria needs. Unfortunately Nigeria is a condition for which all prescriptions have failed but please indulge my futility . My journey began with feelings of nostalgia with the images of varied memories-  going to Apapa amusement park as a child, the bar beach, the fear of “gbomo-gbomo”(Kidnappers) who cares if it was true, visiting the national arts theatre, going to the cinema in Surulere to watch “Aiye” a Herbert Ogunde Production (don’t ask me why) , when kobo was still a currency, Mrs Onuoha, my primary 6 teacher who made an impression on me as all teachers should, environmental sanitation day, "the Nigeria go survive" theme song begging Andrew and fellow citizens to stay in Nigeria with the promise of hope and change- ok you get the picture. Nigeria has changed as systems do and should, but as my journey ended and I compared the images I had against the backdrop of the landscape today and it left me feeling angry, sad, despondent.  Andrew and many others have checked out and the colonial masters have parted ways with us but we have remained enslaved by our mentality and the inexplicable “Nigerian factor” that's masked in patriotism, and national pride. It’s almost as though my people need someone to literarily whip them back into shape and then it occurred to me – let us bring back a military regime ONLY if it’s the Idiagbon-Buhari regime. That government sure knew what Nigerians need – discipline! War Against Indiscipline was a huge step in the right direction and I don’t care that in some cases it was by force-as they say war is sometimes necessary to usher in peace. It was about simple things like the discipline to maintain order at the bus stops and if you needed a whip to remind you- so be it, or to create a maintenance culture with environmental sanitation. But when little things aren’t taken care of they turn into big things like fiscal indiscipline, because if you do not have the presence or mind or consideration to let the man in front of you board the bus without pushing and shoving your way through, surely you don’t care that you have fed full of the entire national cake and left nothing to anyone else. Most, yes- most Nigerians today do not remember the part of the pledge about being “faithful, loyal and honest” and there might be “valid reasons” but that’s for another blog or some other philosophical journey. So I wish Nigeria this one thing at 52-discipline; unfortunately it cannot be prayed into  existence or intensely hoped for as the die-hard patriot believes. I leave you with these words that I wrote last year while ruminating on the Nigerian condition:

So I cry for you- for the rape by your own people and the suffering it's caused for your children, still I meditate for you that the anguish of pain spews from your underbelly causing change that will heal the land. Happy independence day!

The return to madness

I had written this blog the day after the olympics ended but had issues getting into my blog account until..today- but I figured I'd go ahead to post it anyway.

The Olympics are over! The Olympics have always made me cry but I could never figure out why.  Yes, yes, it’s this frenzy of events that take place which gives only the best of the best a platform to show the world what they’re made of; but I think it’s much more than that. During the opening ceremony- The Parade of Nations showed the power of 1. Citizens of the human race displayed pride and dignity about where they come from-who they are.. Arabs, Jews, Muslims, Christians, third world countries, emerging economies, and super powers – all bound in 1 space, on 1 ground with 1 goal in mind-winning. It didn’t matter that some of the countries were at war; one thing was for sure for those 2 weeks every one of the athletes had worked hard and wanted to be acknowledged for their efforts.  Isn’t that what all human beings want? To be recognized as people first above their nationality, ethnicity, personalities, religion, shade of skin color, weight, social status, disability or sexual orientation; and to be given a fair chance to prove themselves? These tags seek to emasculate the power of 1. Now I know why the Olympics makes me cry- it’s the fore-knowledge that this Utopia that is created will only last for two-weeks will soon end and then the world will return to the madness. I guess like John Lennon I can always keep imagining how the world should or could be, but in the meantime I am looking forward to 2016 where Rio will give the me the opportunity to live in Utopia again- until then think #1.

How Dana Air crash was pre-planned

We’ve all seen the faces and stories behind the victims of Dana Air, and thanks to social media and the connectivity that technology has brought, we all somehow know someone that knows someone that was a victim. My cousin said he knew 15 people (that’s 10% of the manifest), my husband’s friend knew 10 people, my mum knows the father of the 2 sisters in Houston and the list goes on. I understand what people who knew the victims would be going through- I went through just that on September 11, 2001. I didn’t know any 9/11 victims personally, but as the personal stories unfolded I experienced grief, the fear of death, of losing a loved one. I grappled with the meaning of life for almost a year and reevaluated everything I believed in. The outcome of the process was how I finally made my peace with my death, but I discovered that was easier than making peace with the death of a loved one. I eventually came to terms with a few things over the course of 11 years:

-         Despite all the postulation about the after-life and what my “religion” had taught me, no one really knows what happens in the afterlife – it’s yet a mystery-only zombies have that answer and I am yet to meet one

-         As hard as it is to accept, no one dies 'before' their time. We all have different timelines and the mystery is that we do not know what the end of that is

-         I will continually strive to communicate and maintain a strong soul connection/relationship with loved ones so that when they crossover that relationship still remains- as our souls never die. I think most people struggle with this believing that it is the end of the relationship –I choose to believe that it evolves into another kind of relationship

-         I have only one life to live (yet again formed by my religion and belief- so others might differ), so I choose to  live it the best way I know how- and not how others think I should

The story behind the Dana Air crash is this-regardless of all the “how could this happen?” or “this could have been avoided” a script had been written and it was orchestrated that all the victims at that appointed time, on that day had the sand in their hour glass run out albeit under “tragic” circumstances. There’s a verse in Ecclesiastes in the bible that says it is better to go to the house of the mourning than the feasting for that is the end of ALL men.

Regardless of your religion or belief, I urge you today to open up yourself to love a little deeper, hug a little tighter, forgive a little quicker, say more I love yous and to embrace life by making your peace with death.

Objects in the rearview mirror may appear smaller than they are

I don’t have a shrink- I’ve always wondered why they’re called shrinks- perhaps because they reduce the  monstrosity of the issues that life brings, or they shrink the potential that we all have to go insane- in any case I don’t have one but I have seriously thought about getting one. I’m not sure why I’ve thought of getting a shrink- could it be because I have many conversations with myself? or because I’m trying to meander my way through getting other’s to join me in the conversations that I often have with myself?-still I have no shrink. I have found blogging to be quite therapeutic as it has yet served as another medium that I have used to converse with myself. Recently I went through the blogs I have written so far, and regardless of the sophistication or style (who cares anyway) the content resonated with me yet again and I realized how much of what I had written that I had come to live by. Each blog is a reflection of what I was going through and as time has passed and wounds are yet healing, I know that the obstacles that once seemed insurmountable have shrunk with no shrink (I couldn’t resist).  I have come to understand that blind spots are not as dangerous in life contrary to driving lessons given by my dad. Through the curveballs that life has accurately thrown at me I am becoming accustomed to growing my own blind spots by leaving the situation to the side along with my hurt and pain - so that when I look back at the objects in the rearview mirror of my life, I experience the optical illusion that makes the circumstances seem smaller than they are.  I am still conditioning myself to make turns in life based on what the rearview mirror shows but if ever I master that skill I’ll let you know. Here’s hoping that in your travels in life you experience the optical illusion that allows you reach your destination safely and in one piece- spirit, soul and body!

5 life lessons from my children

I remember being pregnant and having a conversation with my sister-in-law- she told me my life was about to change with the baby and I thought to myself how cliché that was. What she didn’t know was that she was talking to someone that thought babies slept, pooped and stayed intact until I was ready for the next activity. Once baby came out and came home, boy was I in for a shock and the realization that I was not ready for a child - It was too late now and I had to go through the motions- battling post partum depression was not easy either- culturally it didn’t exist so there was no one to talk to except an ob gyn who offered medication which I passed up on, and dealing with the condition was overwhelming! One more child later- the motherhood journey has been challenging yet rewarding and I wouldn’t trade it for anything as cliché as that sounds. I have taught my children many things, but they have taught me many things too about life and here are my top 5 life lessons from my children:

1)      If you want something ask for it

2)      If you get no for an answer, keep asking eventually you might get a yes

3)  Cry, whine, laugh, scream- it’s ok to just let it out sometimes

4)     Have a heightened sense of appreciation so you can have many “this is the best day of my life” moments

5)     Have no sense of time and want it now!

I’m still learning to live these things each day. To anyone and everyone that has been involved in a child’s life in any capacity, I hope these lessons come to you as a gift to say thank you for all you do and that your lives become richer because of it. As they say in Texas, Happy Mother’s day y’all.

Music is a woman....

So after my undesired and unintended hiatus from the blogosphere I finally have found some time and space to exhale. A recent experience lured me back into this exorcism of emotions through self-expression in a somewhat organized written fashion that I call a blog. On my drive to a store recently, I was listening to the guitar strings in Garth Brooks’ “Thunder Rolls” and in the same moment that had to be orchestrated by a higher power, a flock of what seemed like 2 dozen birds flew in this beautiful swirling pattern and in that moment my breath was completely taken away. I felt a sensory shift – the kind that I am almost certain is experienced by the use of illicit drugs only this time music and nature were my drugs. I realized then that music had to be a woman! At birth she stayed close with the rhythm and the beating of my heart. In my childhood she took my imagination to different heights like believing that one fine day I will sing from the depths of my heart to a huge audience- and she made sure I believed it! In teenage years she was the bookmark of the formative years- from teenage crushes through numerous heartbreaks she fanned each flame. In adulthood she’s served as one of the few that I can go to as an escape from reality. She is the time machine that takes me back to a much innocent time and space- when things seemed so much simpler. She’s been a spiritual guide through whom I am able to connect to a higher power through praise and worship. An even though I have not been able to sing in front of that big audience or found that “perfect” romance like in the Mills and Boons and Harlequin books, I am thankful that she’s stayed with me through it all and always will. Here’s wishing you joyful notes and hoping that you embrace life fully poco a poco 