To Whom…I don’t know!

I was about 14 or 15 in one Military Boarding School when myself and a very good friend of mine decided to sneak out of school. Interestingly I can’t remember if we had an agenda. It was the “hard” thing (what they call woke now) to do back in my high school then. A lot of my school mates sneaked out of school for different reasons. Some got sick and tired of the dining hall food and sneaked out to buy food from local cafeterias in the surrounding villages, some sneaked out to visit Brothels, some sneaked out to sell stuffs but myself and this friend of mine had not a single agenda. We just wanted to be woke.

As soon as we jumped the fence bordering the school and Ikola village, one of the security guards/ hunter/villagers apprehended both us. In retrospect, I wondered how one elderly man could have been able to apprehend two vibrant teenage boys. Anyway, the guy held us well in the grip of his hand and was threatening to take us back to school. Taking us back to school meant, we would be locked up in the guard-room and that may mean suspension or expulsion. No student from a proper home wanted that.

As the elderly man began to drag us back to school, my whole life flashed before me and I began to cry. I thought about all the morals I was taught at home and before I knew it, I regurgitated one of my mom’s favorite counsel whenever I was leaving home for school “DON’T Follow The Multitudes To Do Evil”. I felt really bad for myself and I wept bitterly. Whether we escaped or we were pardoned, I can’t remember how that event ended but my friend still calls me today and jokingly says “don’t follow the multitude to do evil” referring to himself as the multitudes.

Fast forward to my undergraduate days. Not that I became sober since the previous event as I have observed my life is categorized with a lot of good and naughtiness but as a an undergraduate, I wasn’t part of a fellowship in school initially but to whom to give the credit to, I don’t know. However, I had a semblance of godliness but I also had all sorts of friends (good and bad) with whom I was very lousy. As a friend will later testify about me when I was leaving school that after I took fellowship seriously, he was intrigued I hung out with the very terrible guys but they were not dominant enough in my space to stop me from my commitment to fellowship however, I wasn’t able drag them to church also. That appears Sad but simply put, if I can’t sway you, you won’t sway me neither! Not that I was lukewarm but maybe the Jacob/Israel syndrome. I surely wasn’t just church, myself and God related and I was just being unnecessarily liberal. They say you are liberal in your teenage but expected to be conservative as an adult.

So I had this very notorious friend that had sneaked one of his parents car to school. From Victoria Island to Ife and he told us he just got a car. A student owning a car was a big deal then thanks to the distance of the school to Lagos. Back then in OAU, the culture was that when we newly resumed a semester/term, we spent the first one week or two weeks lazing around at New Buka(complex with a lot of nice restaurants and bars) lavishly spending our parents hard earned money given to us as the pocket money drinking booze. It almost felt like a carnival. I was 18 but I wasn’t so much a fan of alcohol. Besides, it didn’t taste that sweet. Prior to that time, my only exposure to alcohol was my dad entertaining his guests with it during the sallah festival though he never drank ( I heard he did before I was born) and as a result, long after the festival we had several bottles of Guinness Stout in the house just wasting away. So at age 5, I tried tasting it out of curiosity and found out it was the most bitter thing aside the herbal drinks my mom forced us to take.

Back to my undergraduate story, so this naughty friend of mine came with this car and we all went with excitement to New Buka to celebrate with him. A friend bought me my first bottle of Guinness Stout and I did well ignoring the bitter taste. Downed the first, the Second, the Third and the Fourth bottle and somehow, I didn’t feel anything strange so I assumed maybe my system adjust well to alcohol. This was on a Tuesday. Like I mentioned, it was always a week long or two weeks long lavishness. The following Thursday, I got invited to New Buka again and I just felt common, first time drinker, I did 4 bottles, lets get it on and I did another four bottles feeling cool with myself. As I was wondering how my system seem a natural habitat for alcohol, another friend of mine walked up to me, intrigued by my calm disposition after four bottles of Guinness Stout, called me by my very great nickname and asked if I wanted one more bottle. The only clause was that this time around we would be having a N2000 bet if I was able to finish the additional bottle. Of course! Why not? I don’t know what the equivalence of that N2000 is in Nigeria now but that was a lot of money then.

In my naivety, and it was expected, first day four bottles, second attempt for a newbie, four bottles and still felt in charge of myself, that shouldn’t break the camel’s back I thought. What I didn’t know is that, in the world of alcoholics, especially in a bar, don’t allow anyone open your beer in your absence. My friend brought this already opened Guinness Stout which he had mixed with dry gin unknown to me and dropped it on my table. I took a couple of gulps but sadly, I didn’t survive the bottle. I got up and began to say all sort. I danced to rhythm of the jams by the DJ – Thong Song by Sisqo and another of Fela’s hit.

Thankfully, another friend who felt embarrassed for me grabbed me took me to my hostel to mitigate the embarrassment I already caused with my display. However despite I was well-drunk and puking, I remembered some of the things I was saying. In all of the mess, as I puked, I remember saying some things my dad advised me against. I remember asking my room-mate to play me some gospel tracks just to return some form of sobriety. I remember right there and then, asking for forgiveness from God.

Subsequently after all had cleared, I realized the things I said were the things I was full of but I was just trying to be like everyone else instead. Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh. It dawned on me that my parents and several other people that had a lot of influence on me had injected so much of these in me that even when I was drunk, those were the only things that could have come out of me. It is not that I no longer take alcohol ( I don’t think Alcohol is wrong though) neither is it that I don’t fall short here and there but I got over that incident and it was then I began to accept that what I was full of was what I really enjoyed as I got a little bit more serious with God with an understanding that it was only with him that I find full expression.

Time hasn’t done much healing Dad.

I can go from Adele’s lyrics:

Hello, it’s me
I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to “talk”
To go over everything
They say that time’s supposed to heal ya
But I ain’t done much healing
Hello, can you hear me?
I’m in “Calgary” dreaming about who we used to be

To Michael Bolton:

Gonna break these chains around me
Gonna learn to fly again
May be hard, may be hard, but I’ll do it
When I’m back on my feet again
Soon these tears will all be dryin’
Soon these eyes will see the sun
Might take time, might take time, but I’ll see it
When I’m back on my feet again

These lyrics sometimes tried to capture how I feel in a context different from what the writers were thinking when they wrote the lyrics. For me, nine years went by so fast and it still hurts like it was a last year. I try to internalize a lot things but I don’t think I am doing a good job at this one. How can? Several days, I argue in my mind if your exit could have been avoided. If like the heroes of faith at the point of death, you despised this world for a another world and you decided to let go of the fight to stay alive. If it is the latter, I may understand how you felt as I have often given up some fights too because I was convinced it wasn’t worth the fight. Many thoughts come to mind. If truly we become like God when we enter into eternity, then you are not ignorant of my thoughts. Then you are aware of how I run the shower for longer periods just to wash down my tears. You are aware of some of my guilt feeling of not coming home as many times as I should have. You are aware of how I sincerely wish I was right beside you when your spirit left your body. Though I was within the same vicinity, I sincerely wish I saw exactly how you finally exited. I am left with the consolation of having wheeled you a night before and walking into that ward at 2am to check up on you (you know how timid of a young man I was. Hospital was not my thing but I think your exit dealt with that).

Somehow, I feel like God played a fast one on me because I was convinced it was just a mild sickness. I could bet it was. I slept in that car at the car park deceiving myself that you were gonna walk out of that ward as I saw several people walk out. In retrospect, if I knew it was gonna go like this, I surely would have been by your side. I took the courage to stay in the hospital thanks to Bankole but death was the last thing on my mind. What a delusion! Without meaning to sound spooky but as someone who is also interested in the spiritual because I believe the spiritual governs the terrestrial, I keep pondering what happened when your spirit left your body? Did you go through dark tunnel? Did you appear before God immediately? Were you hovering around for a while? What really happened? I can bet if Heaven was a mile away, I would have visited you just to take a ride with you but like I always say I am not in  a hurry.

Fatherhood has unveiled some of your struggles to me and how I wish I could give you some feedback/update. I do not think you were perfect but who is a perfect father? As I have learnt from a sage: U may hate him now but one day God willing  you will be a father yourself, and you will fall short as all parents do and be disliked momentarily and you will know what it is to ask for the forgiveness from your own son. You really did a fine job with five children and several cousins. I struggle with two boys. I miss the time with you (I recount a lot of memories from telling me what life was about from your own lens and barging into my teenage and early twenties’ schedule to drive you to weddings without any regard for my own prior plans. While barging into my plans wasn’t much fun then, it is something I would have gladly done knowing what I know now)

I used to think you took life too seriously but I grew to know life is that serious especially when you lead a family knowing you don’t have the luxury of living anyhow as your deeds have great impact on those you lead. While I am dealing with your loss as if it happened last year despite it has been nine years, I really envy those men who still have their fathers. I like to say, if all your father has to share with you are his own mistakes, its worth spending time with him because from the stories of the elderly, you can pick a lot of wisdom.

I just stopped by to let you know how badly i miss you and how that singular event changed my entire view. Hope to write many more as it comes to mind before we meet again. Surely not anytime soon except Jesus comes.

In defense of my Christian Faith

crossI am not one that pretends to be an excellent Christian. No! I am not one. I have many fundamental issues. But being one who has experienced a part of God and a lot of his unfailing love, I can share a piece of what I believe in. What I have experienced and some of my own unanswered questions in this Christian walk.

The pandemic- Covid-19 has generated a lot of buzz and a lot of contemplation in my own mind. A lot of people have questioned why many of our church leaders (especially in Nigeria) never saw this coming in all of their year 2020 prophecies. Well…I know of one who mentioned it but I am not here to project that. The truth is that, there are either two things- God probably didn’t tell them or they were probably not listening. There is an assumption by my generation that God has to inform us of everything. Maybe he does and we are not always listening or maybe out of his sovereign power, He chooses what he wants us to know ahead of time. Yes I am aware of God informing Abraham before he destroyed Sodom & Gomorrah but I am also aware God chooses what he tells us. It could be that our leaders are already engrossed in other things too but how do we know?

I have questioned how frightful the church (Christian) is and I have often wondered what happened to those bible verses that speaks about our exemptions from plagues? Mark 16:18 Psalm 91:10 and so on. Could it be that these verses were just poetic write ups of are they real? But being someone that has experienced some of the power of these verses, I am sure they are not just poetic writings of some scholars. As the bible says, the words that I speak to you, they are spirit and they are life – John 6:63. However, why do we now feel so fretful? Everything scares us.  I mean everything. There seem to be no difference between those who believe and those who don’t. While I believe in these verses, I also understand our inability sometimes to be able to take the courage of faith especially when courage is under fire but like CS Lewis said: “If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things- praying, working , teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing children, playing tennis, chatting with our friends over a pint and a game of darts- not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds”. In a nutshell even if these diseases come to kill us, it can only destroy our mortal bodies and our spirit becomes liberated from the shackles of this clay into eternal glory – Phil 1:21 Mathew 10: 28.

I remember a conversation I had with a very good friend who was a little bit disturbed with the decadence in Nigeria despite the proliferation of churches. He compared the country to Japan- which is one of the top four most developed countries in the world. According to him, majority of the Japanese don’t worship God and they are very developed which is very true. Their rate of development and their economy is worth paying attention to especially when you consider that the rebuilding of Japan only started after 1945 when the United States decimated the country during the WWII (Hiroshima & Nagasaki). However one of the unfortunate things that have happened to my generation is how we often equate spirituality to material well-being. I am a rational being and a very logical one at that and most often than not, my predilection is to do the same, but I am reminded that while Egypt was the Global power, worshiping idols, Israel lived as peasant which tells me that we cannot always equate material well-being to spirituality and if we decide to do so, then we are not any different from the church leaders we criticize that explains who God is with by the type of Cars that you drive. To be honest I am often caught in between this two divide because our God is a God of wisdom. When I think about the human anatomy, the entire universe and the type of intelligence he placed in Human beings, it almost seem as if the intelligent ones are the Godly ones like I have often argued that God is more favorable to entrepreneurs since they create jobs that sustains several families but I am also aware that is only one view. While I believe our connection to God should generate a lot of intelligence, I am also aware relationship with God is not arithmetic and this is what a lot of people in my generation struggle with. How can an intelligent God have foolish followers? How can a God that own all the Oil wells in the world have his people living in abject poverty and they don’t even own a single Oil company? I think these are legitimate questions that have instigated a lot of Church Leaders preaching sermons that motivates us to take over the economy of the world and sincerely, nothing wrong with that. A part of me believes in it. Whether it is right or not, I don’t know.

My friend went further to challenge the excesses of the Christian Church in Nigeria and for me, church excesses is not limited to Nigeria. We have Gay pastors in Europe and North America while we have materialistic and corrupt pastors in Nigeria. Church excesses are you and I as I told him. I am a church boy like I proudly say but I know all of the baggage I bring to church. This is not a justification of the ills in the Christian church but an acknowledgement of them and a realization that we are all part of the problem. I know the bible talks about Jesus Christ coming for a perfect church but what that perfect church is, I don’t know. I am also aware of how Jesus treated his disciples despite their frailties. On the night before the most important day in Christianity – the Passover preceding the death of Christ, I heard Jesus sit at dinner with the founding fathers of Christianity and as he fed them he said- One of you will betray me. The humility of his disciples at that dinner (the founding fathers of Christianity) really baffles me. Despite the lofty positions they held, seeing all the miracles the master had done, they were fully aware that if this Guy says one of you will betray me, he isn’t guessing. HE KNOWS WHO WILL. The bible recorded that each one of the disciples went to meet him one after the other asking “MASTER, IS IT I? In my contemplation, I am of the opinion that they were aware of their own shortcomings and they trusted that JESUS isn’t guessing, as a result they were humble enough to ask him “MASTER, IS IT I”? These guys were not pointing accusing fingers, rather they were looking inwards. As a matter of fact, the only one who didn’t ask was the one that betrayed the MASTER. We have spent too much time pointing who is doing wrong. Maybe we are the problem!

In my rational thinking I have often felt the church have become powerless. How can we afraid of Covid-19? (Churches are being closed (which I support), we never had church buildings in bible days and thank God for the internet. I personally don’t think we still have to go to a building. It is personal). As a result, I sometimes want to go for the jugular of the church which I am part of with bible quotes such as Mark 16:18 but I am reminded of the move of God. I read about Jesus performing raw miracles in his days but when he got on the cross, he couldn’t save himself because that was what all of his coming to earth was about. Then the thief on the left side told him “if you are the true messiah save yourself”. I remember watching that scene as a child and I felt a lot of anger in me that why would this guy say this to Jesus but as my rational mind grew, I found out I have been that thief several times. In all sincerity, wouldn’t we have said the same thing on social media? How can you call yourself the creator of the universe and you hang on a tree and feel helpless? Mat 27:42. I don’t want to be the thief on the left side. No! I don’t want to be. I don’t pretend like I understand God. Oh no! I don’t. I remember God using Moses to lead the Israelite and performing raw miracles- manna from heaven, wearing same clothes for 40yrs and the clothes were not worn or torn but I also remember Him using Joshua, Moses’ immediate successor and he wasn’t sending manna but they were fighting wars and conquering cities. Same God, different times and approach. I can go on and on but I am not even that knowledgeable to defend Christianity. However I love this Bible verse Hebrews 12:1 – running the race set before me. I am not of the opinion that Christianity has a lot of issues but I am part of those issues and if I can improve on myself and we all can take responsibilities, we may just be doing something right. But we cannot always interpret Godliness with material things

I must confess, I have been loving the wrong lady

red-rose-closeup-760x506

There is always that feeling that the unfamiliar lady with the perfect curvilinear gives a lot more satisfaction than the familiar wife of our youth. In my own case I am an adventurer and my “Christian beliefs” justifies exploring many options that are available to me except that the same “Christian Belief” would only allow me make some moves based on Edict from the Most High. However, I read on the pages of the Bible – “teach us to number our days that we may apply our heart to wisdom.” As a result, I am always conscious of maximizing all of the opportunities that presents itself to me. Not that I have taken 100% advantage of these opportunities, but I try my best.

Tired of my familiar wife, I decided to go after this pretty vivacious mistress of mine that has been flirting with me.  A lot she has to offer which my familiar wife presently could not give either because of her upbringing and exposure or because she has just decided to be who she is. My restlessness wouldn’t let me hence I moved out of my own home and got a place together with my mistress. I lie not, there is a lot my mistress has to offer. She offered me a lot rest. We sync in many areas. We were rarely late for dates. 60mins to me was 60mins to her. She really didn’t require me to work so hard before seeing the results of my hard work however the expected results soon became predictable. Dinner was always set at the table by 7pm and breakfast was ready at 7am. She made the entire trajectory of my life seem very monotonous and predictable. Life with her seem easy and initially it seemed to be all that I have always wanted but I knew something was still missing: The connection with my wife.

My wife is not the sweetest of folks to be around. She troubled my life a whole lot but we have some kind of strong connection. Myself and my wife could argue over the simplest things written on the pages of a book in black and white but we maintained a strong connection that I couldn’t explain or teach anyone as I discovered every time I have tried to explain this, I was never understood. However my Mistress kept calling for me. I ticked all the boxes to make my wife as attractive as possible. Liposuction and all that but it appeared my Mistress had a spell on me.

Days turned into months, months turned into years living with my Mistress but I kept missing my wife. Don’t get me wrong, my Mistress is any guy’s dream. She is a fine fox! She is my Still Waters and I dare say if I hadn’t met my wife before meeting my mistress, I probably would have no reason to want to leave my mistress but I kept missing my wife’s madness, I missed the idea of her potentials. However, I enjoy the calmness that my mistress offers me.

As I sat at my desk today at work, I stumbled on the classic old song by Onyeka Onwenu – One Love. I really can’t remember how old/young I was when the song was topping the Nigerian music chart but I remember vividly the music video. I played it repeatedly with my ears plugged till I began to move my body to the rhythm of the beats.

In the course of my day, after so many contemplations, I concluded that I will be polygamous on this note and I hope God is gracious enough to forgive me and no apologies to whosoever is offended. I have an unending love for my wife. A love that dwarfs distance and binds time. However, I love the comfort my mistress offers and as a result I decided Nigeria will forever be my legal wife till death do us apart while Canada will forever be that mistress to me.

I guess some of you reading this were probably secretly hoping that I finally confessed. Shior! No dirt!

I always knew I am Nigerian despite the seemingly deplorable state of my country

Richard Lakes

Home- Different Perspective

My late Dad grew up in the remote town of Ede in Osun State. Somewhere in the South-western part of Nigeria. Ede must have been very remote because when I visit in recent times, I still feel it is somewhat remote as compared to Lagos City. My late Dad had some ambitions and was willing to take advantage of the opportunities presented by Lagos City so he moved to Lagos but I grew up to learn that as much as he missed the place of his upbringing- Ede, he dreaded going to Ede. It is noteworthy that my dad is from a polygamous home and maybe that contributed to his fears of going back to the lovely place he calls home. I think my dad loved Ede as he often refers to it as home but his fears hampered him from visiting Ede as much as he would have as compared to his contemporaries who in my opinion overcame their fears.

I often heard my dad talk so much about “Home”- Ede but rarely went home. As a matter of fact, he didn’t just refuse to go home, he shielded us (his children) from going there or getting involved in any activity in Ede while we watch other extended family members took their kids there and some even retired back to Ede, took public offices, built magnificent buildings and are very relevant or (without taking anything from my late dad) more relevant to the Ede community than my late dad was. Throughout my childhood, I only visited Ede once until I became a teenager schooling in Obafemi Awolowo University which is about 30 minutes away from Ede, then I took the laws into my hands and visited Ede anytime I wanted to. After all, I have cousins and grannies there. However, that freaked out my Late Dad.

Fast track to my recent adulthood, I have a colleague who grew up in Offa in Kwara State and he always expressed enthusiasm about going home (offa) every time we have a holiday and I wondered why he was very quick to refer to Offa as home. This is a married guy with kids so in my own opinion, I expected home to be where his immediate family is. Not his parent’s house, not his father’s home town, but where his wife and kids are. He reminded me of my dad except that as compared to my late dad, he was very confident and excited to go to this place he calls home whereas my late dad had the excitement about going home but was not very confident of it.

For a very long time I maintained that home is where my wife and kids are until I moved to Canada and found myself beginning to think like these two folks – My Dad and my colleague. Living in Canada made Nigeria home to me despite my wife and kids are with me in Canada. I developed this appetite for a place called home and Lagos became the home I crave. People told me it would pass but it has lingered. I constantly feel a strong pull and chemistry to that state of aquatic splendor. The one we refer to as the center of excellence. Yes with all of its imperfections, I anticipate going home and unlike my late dad and some of my diaspora folks, I have no fears. I regularly come across people like my Dad, they dread returning or visiting Nigeria, they recount the epileptic power supply, they are quick to highlight the lack of infrastructures, the risk that comes with living in Nigeria, one even decline a simple visit because his parents advised he may be kidnapped. While some of these worries may be legitimate, I wonder if this is the way to live. After-all majority of us lived over 30years before stepping outside the shores of that country. How hard can it be to spend a few weeks back there or even relocate back home? Well… it’s personal. You know what, I am putting my money where my mouth is. Sorry my pen this time around. #singing…I hear you calling, here I come baby…

First few Months Relocating Experience

Day in day out my tear-stained face
Pressed against the window pane
My eyes search the skies desperately for rain
‘Cause rain drops will hide my tear drops
And no one will ever know that I’m crying when I go outside
To the world outside my tears
I refuse to explain, but I wish it would rain

The West has always been presented as a better place to the people of my generation. In some respect I think it is. The infrastructures, the educational system and many more but more importantly the system works. So many of us grew up desiring to live in the Western hemisphere. As a result, when Canada presented this golden opportunity, it made a lot of sense for people of my age to take advantage of it. Maybe not necessarily. But the urge to present a more qualitative life to our children (which some people think is debatable) played a major factor. Relocating to a new environment is never something for the faint-hearted but I also do not want to think that is in absolute terms because as I grow older I am beginning to see that optimism, which is a key requirement for such daunting moves may not necessarily be birth from the womb of courage or bravery but could be birth from a lot of naivety.

The experience I will share here may not necessarily be generic but maybe a few may relate. I had worked with KPMG back home and working with a global brand provides you the privilege of interacting with different people from different continents. I was not just privileged to work with KPMG, I had been privileged to work as  Business Analyst in the marketing department and amongst about twenty marketing staff, providence had me working across several departments that required me to relate with people from different countries. Many times my colleagues will jokingly call me a global staff. Meaning,  long before I moved to Canada, I had worked with KPMG team in Canada to migrate our KPMG Advisory Portal to a cloud based portal. I had sat in meetings with them and enjoyed the “clout” of being a member of a Global Team. I have had to go work in the London Office in Canary Wharf to integrate myself with my colleagues which we had sat in electronic meetings together. Though my role was nothing very high in the pecking order of the firm’s organogram but I had a dotted reporting line to the Global Head of KPMG Advisory Knowledge Management who sat in the UK office. I was also fortunate to have been on the one and only KPMG Global Platinum account – The Dangote Account Team. In all sincerity, it was not as if my job offered a lot of money but it offered a lot of knowledge and insight. It also offered a lot of network. As the young professional on the only KPMG Global Platinum account in Africa, I had to attend the Dangote Account team meetings and I remember being at a dinner with Aliko Dangote himself, the richest black man in the world. The meetings I attended made me very knowledgeable about a lot of happenings in the country and I was very privy to the direction the country was headed before a lot of my contemporaries had any inclination. I had access to the Chairman of KPMG Africa and National Senior Partner of KPMG Nigeria. I really felt my career was heading in the direction I wanted it. Common I was loving every bit of the image and knowledge that came with my job. The only missing thing was that my bank account wasn’t as fat I wanted it to be and also I carried a Green passport that often required fasting and prayer when applying for Visa either to visit another country for leisure or for trainings.

Tired of the state of my beloved country and considering my desire to carry a first world country’s passport while also giving my two boys better opportunities in life, I decided to embark on the Canadian journey. This was against some of my bosses’ advice but there is nothing as fulfilling for a dreamer like him achieving something he sets out to. I was very optimistic about the opportunities provided by this great country – Canada and a lot it presents. Somewhere in my mind when I was leaving Nigeria, I felt my experience working with KPMG was going to provide me a soft landing in Canada but lo and behold the old cold country thought otherwise.

I think one of the best things that can happen to some of us is the ability to self-disrupt and re-invent ourselves. This is not for the lily-livered and I think relocation sometimes offers such fulfillment. To leave the known for the unknown is a trait I admire but only those who have made such daring acts can really explain the intricacies. Prior to moving to Canada, I had never been aware of the color of my skin. This is not to say I have had to deal with any racial discrimination ( I am not interested in racial cards) but the reality of how dark I am became very obvious to me when I moved to Canada (this is not like visiting) and I began to question the idea of race. Why are some called white and some called black? This is not to say I wasn’t aware of this classification prior to coming to Canada. Trust me I did History & International Relations in my first degree and I have always worked with people from different parts of the world but the reality of the color of my skin became obvious to me when I moved to Canada. For the first time in my over 30yrs, I had to live as a minority. Back in my home country I often heard a group of people call themselves minority and I have often felt they exaggerated the feeling but here I am dealing with the realization. I don’t know if it is racism or preference but I also observed that the “white” guys will rather sit next to another “white” guy, then to an Asian before they sit next to an African. (This may not necessarily be true but this is what I observed in public transit). As a result, I became more drawn to fellow Africans I see around. I was eager to say hello to other Africans if not for anything, for the sake of not feeling all by myself.

The reality of living abroad as a black man really dawned on me pretty fast. I began to miss my home country the way you will miss summer during the cold claws of winter. Back home, I was not so much into the local hip-hop songs but this became a major part of my playlist in Canada. I craved for home like a little child craving for the breast milk of his mom. I woke up every morning calculating the time difference and wondering what activities my friends back home would have been up to. Somehow, living in Calgary  made that worse as I am seven hours or sometimes eight hours behind my Nigerian friends back home. Then you can imagine how hard it was to keep up. I became more active on Social Media not because I wanted to show off the goodies of living in the West but I just wanted to connect with my friends back home. Meeting another Nigerian or African here became one of my major highlights and to talk about the possibility of developing Africa to match up with the developed world for me was epic. I remember my first time in a Night Club here and it happened to be an African-Caribbean Night club, seeing an inscription of Lagos on the wall made me feel a little bit ecstatic. These were some of my own realities and on the flip side was me watching my beautiful career seemingly on hold.

I had come to Canada with a bounce in my steps, coming from a Global brand but like I mentioned earlier, the Canadian systems has a different view. In all sincerity the KPMG on my resume gets me some interviews but converting anyone of them just seemed like a very herculean task. Having worked for six-years in KPMG in the capacity I worked and reporting to the types of people I reported to, I don’t expect you to think I am dumb but my interviews made me feel I wasn’t that smart. Not that I was asked any question that I couldn’t answer correctly (maybe I didn’t answer them the way I was supposed to) but the Canadian system often prefer those that have gathered their experience in Canada. Here I am with a very lovely resume and you get the invitation for an interview. In the course of the interview, you are asked, was this KPMG Canada and I respond well…, not KPMG Canada but I worked in the Global firm interacting with people from different geographical location and you will expect that is plus right? But hell NO! Canada doesn’t operate like that. I sent out as many applications as possible, practiced for as many interviews as possible but hell No! WE HAVE GONE WITH ANOTHER CANDIDATE. This is not to say there aren’t people that came in and got a job immediately but this is my own story. In Canada, the Canadian work experience is more appreciated than your certifications or any other work experience you are coming with. Considering that I was running low on my savings, I was fortunate enough to get a referral from a friend and I found a Canadian employer who was willing to take a gamble on this new immigrant. Meaning I was offered an employment. Don’t ask me the type of Job it was but it was a job good enough for me to pick my bills and also expose me to the Canadian work environment. While I am very grateful for that job, having to do the job wasn’t as easy as I thought (not that the job was difficult). The idea of doing this type of work was nothing I had prepared for just like I had never seen myself as a minority. Initially, I struggled with accepting that this is my new reality at least for the time being. I remembered all my previous bosses who had advised me not to embark on the Canadian journey because they felt I had a promising career back at home. But a Promise could just remain a Promise so I went with my guts. Here I was with my KPMG experience, my MBA certification, having to do a Job below my experience but it was what it was. I wasn’t going to settle for this stop-gap in my career but time was also running. I was racing against time. Every day after work, I was going to work on my resume and minimize my work experience so as to get an invitation for interviews and yes I got some but just couldn’t convert those interviews to offers. One of those days at work, I had to pen this:

I miss Naija. Some people miss their previous job in Naija cos of the big salary, but i miss naija cos of my former job. Not that the Salary was so much but the job gave me access and network and these two things made me feel very powerful. Meeting with those i met challenged my thinking. I remember doing Emiefele’s presentation for him when he became the CBN Governor and interviewing him as the Zenith Bank MD. i remember sitting in the same meeting room with GTB MD- Segun Agbaje having a strategy session. I remember sitting in front of Paul Gbededo, Flour Mills MD. I remember managing Dangote’s account in KPMG and having Dinner on the same table with Aliko Dangote in Eko Hotel. I remember contacting Charles Church – ARM agricultural fund MD and persuading him to come and present to my line of business team in KPMG. I remember getting a mail from the former chairman of KPMG Africa and now the chairman of Andersen Tax Africa on a presentation i did for him and saying “fantastic job Richard. I have nothing to add” and he sent it directly to Botswana. I remember representing KPMG Nigeria on the Global Advisory Knowledge management team and having to go work with other Global Digital team members in UK and increasing my network of friends and colleagues. A whole lot i miss. One thing meeting with the C-suite in Nigeria did to me is that it reignited my appetite to want to join them. Maybe I have unfinished business in Nigeria.

For the first time in my life, I knew the true meaning of anxiety. I had sleeping disorder. I had lonely days and nights. Many times I had to go listen to my stakeholders and convert their problems to solutions while I hid my frustration of rejection, minority feelings and all sorts of misery. A lot of times, I woke up in the morning asking what the heck is going on but I just couldn’t afford to sit back at home. I kept applying for other jobs and for a while, I kept getting turned down. To ease myself of my misery, I surrounded myself with a few folks who were able to hear my hurts and I was going to put my feelings into writing and send to them. One of those sleepless nights, I had to write this and send to one of closest of friends – Eyi

Feelings ain’t always true but I cannot deny that I feel furlough and forgotten by God. Between last year and this year, I must have done over 600 applications gotten about 7 interviews and yet to get my kind of job. Sometimes I say maybe it’s not my time yet but sometimes I also say maybe it’s my ascent. Maybe I am also not answering the questions right. Yes I have had interviewers tell me I am qualified for the job except that it’s too much of a gamble considering that I have not practiced in Canada. The not getting the job doesn’t worry me as much as the vestiges and scars of unmet expectations. I can nurse my wounds but the scars leave memories that battle with my confidence. I have lived my life full of confidence and ebullience but it seems I require more effort to be that now. All these may have no connection with the realities but this is how I feel. I came to Canada on the backdrop of one of the fastest PR processes. I had people willing to assist with the funds we require to settle down in Canada without even soliciting from them. I came with a lot of expectations but my expectations scares the life out of me now. Like the lady in the bible told Elisha or is it Elijah: don’t deceive me man of God. That’s how I feel many times when I hear some encouragements from my loved ones. I know it’s impossible for God to forget me but all that seems like head-knowledge now. There was a time I could brag about it experientially. But right now, I am tired!

I sincerely have had my fair share of relocating adjustments. Some, I think are too private to be documented here but most importantly, I have had the most lovely people around me who are always willing to hear my rants and when they can, they chip in some words of encouragement and when they can’t, they just allow me full expression. I won’t go on and mention names but these folks are those I am forever indebted to. They are the god-fathers and mothers of my two sons. These ones will never call to find out I am gone as I will always make myself available for them.

Trust me this is not to scare people away from relocating because given the opportunity again, I will do this a million times but with the benefits of hindsight, I would be more prepared for the shocks. If you have my kind of dreams and aspirations as well as my unsatisfied soul, I don’t think you have any option not to. I am yet to apprehend the hallmark of why I made this move but it is a move I bet will always pay off with God on my side. Like they say back home: we die there! But in this case, we aren’t gonna die there, we will eventually breakthrough.

Contemplating

I surely don’t have a topic for this but I guess suggestions are welcomed. I have always been interested in history and governance but not without its frustrations and I am coming to terms with the fact that, you only get frustrated about what you are passionate about. I have often wondered why anyone shouldn’t be interested in History as I am of the opinion that we can’t chart a new path if we never know where we are coming from. More so, History is that mystic that gives us our identity as you will often hear the men of old saying though in religious terminologies: the God of our fathers. Such phrases is connected to antecedents in the past which serves as spring board for future exploits.

History has it that the Europeans’ first exploration to Africa was in the 15th Century. While that sounds like a known fact however my curious mind can’t stop probing into why the exploration? Why risk your life through the unchartered waters of the Atlantic Ocean? Maybe they had more reason to go on this expedition. Maybe the forces that drove them out of their continents were stronger than the forces that could keep them satisfied considering the lack of natural resources, the need for survival and many other factors. Everyone knows how blessed Africa is in terms of Natural Resources and Climatic condition as compared to most Western countries so maybe that was also a factor for the Europeans and for the sake of this write-up, I will use Caucasians to describe Europeans as it includes the Americans too. If nothing at all, living in the West for a few months and watching Game of Thrones has told me the weather is pretty harsh and I can imagine what it was like in the 15th century without the needed technology so I will like to suggest that Africa offered a more sophisticated environment and civilization for these Caucasians. And for those that have been told that the Caucasians came to develop Africa, maybe we have not done our own research properly and we have believed everything we have been handed.

It was the Dutch Explorer- Olfert Dapper that describe the Ancient Benin Kingdom as more advanced than the European kingdom. In his diary, he wrote that the roads of Ancient Benin Kingdom were eight times wider than what they had in Amsterdam. Another explorer: Graham Corner, a British historian described the walls of the Ancient Benin Kingdom extending to about 16000km long in a mosaic of more than 500 interconnected settlement boundaries. They covered 6,500 sq Km and were all dug by the Edo people… which would have taken about 150million hours of digging to construct and perhaps the largest single archaeological phenomenon on the planet. 

Hence my contemplation, with all of these luxuries, why did the Caucasians not pitch their tents in Africa. After all, we are known to be very accommodating folks. I guess one thing seems sure, they were never going to abandon their homeland for some form of luxuries which they can adopt and recreate. Fast forward to the 21st century, the world seem to be more interconnected, the Caucasians explorers in conjunction with bad leadership in Africa have joined forces and depleted the African race psychologically and are still exploiting the African resources (this is not an excuse for our own underdevelopment). The Western countries have become very developed and excellently so that they even require an increase in population to service the magnificent eight wonder of the world which they have created and now the boarders are open to the Africans and many more races. However, preference is for the professionally skilled ones and this sound like a good thing and I think it is. It is a global village. If resources can be moved from one country to another, so should human capital howbeit, legally. However as interesting and noble as this idea of immigration is, I would have expected that we can learn somethings from first the Caucasians and also the Asians. When the Caucasians explored Africa, they had their strategy in mind: we need to develop the West and we would use resources from Africa to do that. When the Asians come to the west, the plan is to return back with the foreign exposure and develop their continent. Maybe only Africans don’t plan to. Maybe only Africans have an escapist mindset. 24hrs electricity is so much of a luxury to us, our mind is never big enough to comprehend that we can actually find a solution to our power generating problem. Good roads are so much luxurious that the idea of going back to Africa seems more like a diabolic concussion been stirred by our extended relatives who we think are envious of our new western achievement – BS!

The conundrum is that many of us think we have escaped the rot in Africa by moving to Canada or the US and I think that is shallow. We have left extended family and peradventure,  we are able to eventually move our extended family out of Africa too which is possible but I once read about a Nigerian family that relocated to the United States some years back and I am sure they also breath a sigh of relief: away from the madness in Nigeria which is very understandable and on one of the few or only trip they made to Nigeria to attend a function, the entire family died in a plane crash travelling inter-state in the country. Yes I get that look plane crashes everywhere but we also know the story of the Nigerian Aviation Industry and just maybe when we think we have escaped what we running from, it catches up with us. So why not take up this golden exposure you have in the Western Countries, why not take our dual citizenship, why not take our experience and give back to the countries of our roots? I guess that’s is the mindset that developed the west which we all now want to make our home.

#justmymidnightrantings. **unedited** To be continued….

800px-Africa_satellite_orthographic

#10yearschallenge

Ain’t gonna lie, I have not had it smoothly but probably fairly easier than some people. I  often wanted the unconventional things and this #10yearschallenge brought back a lot of good memories however not without some foolish and painful experiences too. In all, God has been on my side but I have also been incredibly naughty. What do you expect from this restless guy who wants to die empty?

From first quitting a paying job in Ikeja (Landover Aviation) to going from Ipaja to Lekki to volunteer for a cause I believe in. (Lekki phase 1 and then to Chevron) Volunteer means no pay but learnt some of the intricacies of a non-profit. Then I got bored of the non-profit business and wanted to work with an aggressive business man( O’la-Kleen Holdings: owners of Vault & Gardens Private Cemetery and PROFORCE Limited. PROFORCE Limited is arguably the number 1 vehicle armoury business in all of the emerging economies of the world), there I learnt how to write a business plan and Proposals and how to be self motivated (thanks to Ola Tunji Agbaje and Ade Ogundeyin) And I got bored of the modus operandi of a one man business and wanted something with more clout and pedigree. Something beyond just business expansion and I joined KPMG Nigeria, working with: I like to think some of the smartest folks and beyond that, this opportunity gave me access to the leadership of a global firm. And to be honest it offered more than the pay cheque (thanks to everyone I worked with in that “firm”: the list is endless) despite we wanted more. The KPMG experience will be an entire chapter on its own. Oh I guess I ran ahead of myself, yes I went into fashion business as a volunteer ( I guess that cushioned the volunteering deal a bit) and like the restless me but not exactly before I am perceived as one who can’t stay in one place, after 5years, I should find another challenge, I took a dive back into a one man business but hell no, I had gotten used to a well structured business and with marriage and kids comes the requirement for stability so after three months, back to KPMG I came but it won’t be for long.
Irritated by the likes of Dino Melaye and many people in Government, I wanted to explore the North American continent, have a close feel of the North pole and following the required due process, I disrupted everything again. Got my young family together in an Airbus and Calgary Alberta here we came. Let me be honest, self-disruption or change is not an easy thing but what is my alternative? A life void of creating the experience I want? Truth be told, we all want different things but one thing I know I want is a wealth of experience and when I look back over the last 10years, I might have had many despondent times and I have had very low moments (typical of restless people) and I can boldly say the author of my Christian faith and not my Christian faith(which many times fail) has been the anchor of my soul. I am looking forward to the next unconventional move. in my 40s 50s 60s and 70s like I look at my twenties, yes with some “could have done this better moments” but ultimately, I want to sit back with my most adorable Seun Smith Olatunji and smile at my 30s.

 

 

My Creed

I have to live first with myself and so I want to be fit for myself.

I want to always be able to look myself straight in the eye.

I don’t want to stand with the setting sun & hate myself for the things I have done.

I want to go with my head straight. I want to deserve the  respect of all men. But here in the struggle for my Christian faith and fame (social acceptance), I  want to be able to like myself.

I don’t want to look at myself and know that I am a bluster & bluff or an empty show. I never can fool myself and so whatsoever happens, I want to be self-respecting and conscience free.

On the occasion of 5 Years Remembrance of the hero I never knew I had

(wrote this five years ago but just moved it here)

It is five yrs today u passed on. Yes a lot has changed. Married, working (Oh I have been working before your exit), I  have a pretty son too. I am fighting my battles, winning some and learning from some. On the subject of fear, I guess I am doing better than you did (thanks to a good foundation you laid -Christian faith). On career, maybe not at the pace I want but I am sure you would have said well done because the blessing, not the pay is evident. On being a good son to your wife(my mom)- I can always do better but I am sure she is proud of you. I guessed I picked up the best of both worlds(yourself and mom) which makes me one of a Kind. On being conservative, not sure I match up with you but understand I live in different times. On keeping good friends, I guess I have them all-the good, the bad and the funky. The good-to improve on myself, the bad-to learn not to be like dem and the funky, for my social appetite. Did I mention I still listen to King Sunny Ade? Yes I do.

On marriage, I guess it is never how it appears in movies and in our heads. I think you are really interested in ds part of my life even after your transition as you showed up a few times in my subconscious- (my dreams). I am learning by the ropes. I am a father now but not one without an adorable wife. Though I may not be as fantastic as my greatest fans think I am, I guess I am also not as terrible as my harshest critics say. I really miss you. I really wish we could talk and share experiences even though I know we won’t agree on all fronts but I really wish you stayed a bit longer than you did. Maybe some decisions would have been easier to make but I must tell you Mr. Olawale is doing a perfect job. Like many others, your path here on earth might not have been easy but you found a way around it.