We will judge you

A friend once posted on Facebook that he doesn’t believe in religion but only believes in kindness and humanity. My question to him was what are his criteria in determining what are kind and humane? To a large extent, religion, society and tradition shapes what we deem to be right, wrong, moral or evil.

Hence, when we take an action or inaction, our mind which is pre-installed with conscience pricks us if we are wrong or evil and on the other hand, we may feel a sense of fulfillment or happiness when our actions are commendable.

The judicial system in every society is saddled with the responsibility of punishing the wrong actions. The society will approve or reject our actions in a variety of ways.

In our clime, it is presumed that the judicial system does not live up to expectations, Thus, misdeeds are not punished. This indirectly places a heavy burden on our religious institutions to inculcate good morals, values. The religious institutions also have not been very successful in this regards.

One of the ways the religious institutions discourage wrong actions is by frowning at such actions. It is difficult to determine if this method is yielding result due to the absence of laws which empowers punishment by the religious institutions. One thing is certain, this frowning method has come a long way and it unsettles a number of people. People take actions and they justify it by saying you need to be in their shoes.

One only needs to glance at someone who does something wrong and you will hear ‘thou shall not judge’. For those who wish not to be judged, they need to hide their (mis)deeds so no one can see it. Funny enough they already judged themselves to be wrong and fear people will see them in the same light.

Rules and laws in every traditional settings, religious institutions and society are made to check wrongs and to encourage rightful actions. Serving a jail term or community work is not the only way to punish misdeeds. We also need to speak against all misdeeds as well as frown and condemn them.

Come to think of it, you want to go through life doing as you wish and expect no one to condemn the negative side of you? Please, wake up! You should have it at the back of your mind that you will be judged for every actions and in-actions. So, when you hide behind ‘thou shall not judge’, we will assume you already admitted your wrongs and the look on our face towards you will always be that of disapproval.

Photo from Google

Peace comes tomorrow

I was having a holy dream of praying fervently and getting closer to God until I heard a loud bang on the door. This was about 3.00am. My friend and I scampered up from bed looking very scared. A female voice from the back of the door angrily told us to open the door. That is the voice of Vanessa. My friend opened the door and she matched into the room angrily with a wrapper held loosely,  barely covering her bossom. She said she wouldn’t get out of the room not until we speak to her client and explain to him that she couldn’t go on anymore. She is one of the prostitutes living in the brothel managed by my friend. The hairy client also walked in with a frown on his face. He was pulling his jean over his erection. We were left with no other option than to intervene if we wanted to get back to our sleep. She said the man had used a local aphrodisiac which was working its magic non-stop since 11.00pm.

Imagine waking up to this sort after having a very spiritual dream. The man did not deny the accusation. His argument was that he had duly paid for all the services he is getting and he expects her to honour her part of the agreement.

After about half an hour of persuading both parties to shift ground, I discovered it was time for me to start preparing for work. I had to leave them to start my daily routine.

This is Lagos, I work on the Island as a contract staff in a bank and I leave home as early as 5.00am so that I can get to work early. Though it is always still dark when I leave but the traffic in this city wakes before me. Even the motor park touts and duty-loving policemen are already up to make ends meet.

I grabbed my toiletries from underneath the bed and made for the bathroom. The voice from the bathroom was miming a classic by Celine Dion. I wonder when this termite infested door constructed with wood and roofing sheet will be changed for a better one. I filled my bucket with water and knocked on the bathroom door. ‘Aunty please, do quick,’ I said. ‘You for enter come join me since you wake late today,’ she replied angrily. I had no strength for argument today I just endured till she sang the whole album in her high pitched voice. She stepped out with an irritated look on her face. I muttered good morning but instead she hissed and walked away. I threw my towel over the door and scooped some water to hurriedly brush my teeth. As I splashed the cold water on my body, I remembered my days in the village. I remember the morning dew, the calm and peace which greeted us each morning. Unlike Lagos, where you prepare for the days battle for ten hours ahead and you do the battle for the remainder of the day. As I dressed, I took two slices of bread and munched on it and gulped a sachet of ‘pure water’. Even if the water is impure, as long as it is in a sachet, we call it pure water. I sprayed the remaining perfume I bought from ‘Oshodi under Bridge’ on my jacket which also seriously needs dry cleaning. I stepped out of the building and one of the numerous ‘tenants’ chewing gum carelessly looked at me, smiled and said ‘Oga banker, buy something come o”. I quickly looked away, waved indifferently and said ‘good morning’ as I walked away.

The first day I resumed my job, my fear while going to work as early as 5.00am was that I was at risk of being the only one out at that time. Today, there are just a pocket of people at the bus stop and I don’t have to go through the royal-rumble to board a bus. After managing to beat some people to board the bus, I double checked my phones and wallet in my pocket. Oh! I forgot my phone charger at home. I brought out my earphones and plugged them to my ears. The elderly man beside me tapped on my shoulders and pointed to the bus conductor. I understood, and gave the bus conductor my fare. As I go through my mails and messages, the elderly man was also reading my personal messages with me. Next thing he asked me was ‘How much you buy am?’ It is the IPhone 5s which I had to save money for several months to buy. I decided to tell him a small unreal price so he can end the discussion. I said I got it for Thirty thousand Naira. He replied ‘Them cheat you’. I was surprised. He continued and said his daughter in a higher institution got it for twenty thousand naira. I replied and told him I got my own when it was first released into the market. ‘You young people sha, how will you buy a phone for thirty thousand Naira?’ He continued with this topic of buying expensive phone and I already wasn’t concentrating anymore. I just muttered uhn and hmm and also nodded my head from then on.

Life in a Lagos commercial bus isn’t complete without the morning devotion which everyone gladly joins except for the stern looking Muslim cleric, I suppose from his beard.

After alighting, I stopped by the make-shift canteen at the garage to drink some local pap ‘koko’ before going to the office. The irony about my job is that undergraduates dream about it, while we who are presently working see it as bondage. The only beautiful thing about the job is the beautiful office. I have never for once completed my tasks and the files keep piling up despite the fact that I work overtime always and also weekends.

When I return home at night, I always manage to call my fiancé to listen to her voice and narrate my daily experience. She says it is unbelievable how we live our lives in Lagos. I also think it is unbelievable too but I am a witness to it. One statement she re-iterates is that Lagosians are mad. She wanted to relocate to Lagos with me and has constantly pressured me to secure an accommodation. She has a fiancée working in a bank in Lagos and wanted nothing less than a two-bedroom flat apartment. She couldn’t believe me when I told her the cost of securing such apartment in Lagos. Even after agreeing on a single room, the cost is still crazy according to her. Her first visit to Lagos was that of a ‘johnny just come’. She was amazed at how people of all ages shove and push each other to board a bus. She complained about the cost of everything and concluded that Lagos is over-hyped.

On Sundays, I don’t go to church because that is the only day I have to rest and prepare for the new week. On this day, I sometime ponder over this craze of a life called Lagos. The battle to board a bus remains tasking every day. The extra caution to avoid body contact and preventing pick pockets remains. The excessive noise from power generating sets and partying neighbours is annoying. The frustration of paying power bills which you never consume. The nagging accommodation issue and the slavery which is falsely tagged employment. As a man, I should just fashion out a way to make these burdens lighter for me.

One weekend, I decided to get a laptop so I can bring some work home. Since my boss won’t push for me to get a laptop from the office, I got one from my hard earned money. The following week, I was robbed and disposed of my laptop and phones while going to work. I visited the Police Station to make a report and I got to work late. On getting to work, my boss looked at me cynically; I ignored and sat on my chair to find a query letter on my table which I am to respond to in less than forty eight hours. I got home that day and drafted my resignation letter. This madness must just stop. I woke up around 6.00am the next day. Yes, an hour late. I took my time to queue to take my bath and I also cooked which hasn’t happened in a long time. I got to work around 10.00am with a sense of freedom and relief. I smiled at my boss and he was a little surprised at my rare happiness………………………………..

Photo from Google

Diary Of A Lagos Girl

I should be nice and listen to what this guy is saying. My head bowed a little with a noticeable smile on my face and with occasional shy glance I blink at him. The questions he asked about my academics are halfhearted but I can't help but notice the arrogance he is trying to suppress. Just about then a motor bike sped past and the lone passenger shouted my name. Instantly, my shyness was gone and I cheerfully shouted his name back. He is also one of my toasters just like Gbenga who I am currently chatting with and wants his application granted. I am even tired of all these guys ‘codedly’ dating me. Not that I don't want to be like Shade who has a stable boyfriend, but they all don't act responsible.

 Caleb smashed my previous phone after reading some text messages on it. He probably thought his money got the phone for me. He was amazed I moved on quickly from his pettiness. I got a brand new phone days later. It was even a newer model of the phone he smashed. Soji who got the phone for me was pissed at the attitude of Caleb. He wanted to confront Caleb but I dissuaded him by telling him Caleb is a miscreant angered because I wouldn’t return his greetings.

Now that those little girls are in higher institution, they wouldn't let us be. They are becoming unbecoming. It is a common knowledge that it is ‘ashawo’ work undergraduates do. I am certain their hair isn’t original Peruvian. I am not jealous of them but stating a fact. No matter what, I am a bigger girl than they are. Boys that I have dated and dusted, is who they roll with. Mtchew! Many don’t know my worth until they visit my Facebook wall. Come and see big boys begging me to accept their friend request. The ones I accept can’t stop thanking me and appreciating my beauty. Girls will always beef, that’s why I prefer many boyfriends. You won’t believe Sade who stays in our compound can’t even send me a friend request. She is always reluctant to greet or even respond to my greetings. By the time I learn to use that Instagram, they will know I have finally arrived. I heard it makes one beautiful like Beyonce and endowed like Toolz. Me, I don’t think I will use that twitter o. I heard bad-mouth people are too much there.

It is time to upgrade from local boys and seek for love and overdue attention from the wider internet ocean. I will pocket my pride and just ask one of those small girls to teach me how to use it. I will also use the opportunity to ask where they get their clothes and make their hair. In return I can tell them the broke ass boys and big-mouth boys to avoid in the area.

Ireti has gotten a car, a Toyota Spider. Proper Ashawo. I pray I don’t end up like o. She follows old men up and down. Which work does she do to be able to afford a car? Later, they will be going to church crying for husband.

If only Jaiye wasn’t in a serious relationship with that ‘omo mommy’. He is a fairly decent guy. I would have been his main chick and God knows marriage would have been certain by now. Marriage sha! Do I even think I am ready for marriage? Anything can still happen. I will pray and give him all he wants. I will even try to close-mark him and act jealous maybe he will develop feelings for me.

Those ones doing born-again, your secret is open o. I know I am not the holiest but why do these ones pretend? Even Ireti the Proper Ashawo is better than them. They will be using choir as a façade. Even the Choir master isn’t left out. He was sending me text messages and calling me with free call at night. Poor church rat! When his mate are sleeping and resting he is doing night call with me. He doesn’t even know his mate at all. I think it is because I attend that church. By the time I start attending Christ Embassy, maybe they will even see my brake light.

On to matter of importance. My subscription expires tomorrow, maybe this maga will pay. Let me chat with him

“ Hi loff. When will you be free to chat? I miss chatting and reading your lovely messages. I would be offline tomorrow as my subscription expires today. Missing you. Love love love kiss kiss”

 Let us wait to see maybe he will subscribe for me.

Photo from google