The Painful Prolonged Distraction

What I should be screaming here is DISASTER, CRISIS, PROBLEMS, PALAVA! But I chose to call this a painful and prolonged distraction. May be I am viewing this occurence as such considering the fact that my crisis managment "skill' was put to test. On my way back to Mali, I met two Nigeria men that were left by their bus to Mali at the same hurt locker Porga border that I blogged about a while ago. These two young men were trying to negotiate their ways out of the exhorbitant charges by the immigration officers when their bus driver zoomed off! They were to travel for 3 days to get to Mali and the wicked driver left them behind on day one while taking their luggage with him!

I was touched by this story, we journeyed together to Mali in another vehicle from Burkina and we were able to cope with the vehicle incessant break down. Thank God the journey was over. We all sighed and parted in Bamako. I had to brace myself for the days ahead with the research work I am planning to do. I promised to devote my time to the research and another essay that needs editing. That was my plan. I could only accommodate a little distraction of watching TV, Movies or playing music ocassionally. That again was my plan...


I remember how Murphy's law was put in a clearer perpspective in one WAEC text of English years ago. The passage read 'when problems come, they come not in singles but battalions'. I was fascinated by this and thought deeply on the possibilities of things going extremely wrong. And yes, over the years, I have seen things going extremely wrong. Some I worried sick or depressed over them. My crisis managment instinct was never a skill then. So, as I was saying, all I bargained for was to plung myself into work after resting the night away. Friday came and I was working out my plan gradually then I realised I needed to get some money, pay my rent, buy grocery, buy phone cards etc. That should not be a problem, I mused. Afterall, I was armed with my HSBC visa card and GTB Master card. All I needed to do was go get the money!



That was when everything started going wrong. My nephew sent me a text that he was sick and dying- I had to think of how to get a doctor to treat him back in Nigeria. I hit the city to get money but all the ATM machines I tried rejected my two cards. I was stuck. I then placed a call to GTB that very night and they told me after being on hold for a long time that the problem was not from their end. I called HSBC London, the following day and this time I was put on hold for longer, money wasted and no solution found. What happened? HSBC has blocked my card because I reported a transaction I did not carry out on my account and they are investigating! Who did they tell before blocking my card? I was not happy with this. What next, I thought to myself as I have CHOSEN not to let this situation ruin my mood. I used mastercard again on Saturday using different ATM machines to no avail. I eventually got a bank that worked on Saturdays having being told by GTB when I called again that they seemed not to know what the problem was. The bank visited in Mali told me, master card services had been stopped for the past 6 Months in Mali!


There we go, two debit cards and I could not get any money. I have no cash on me and found it difficult to get a loan at that short period with the few people I know in Mali. Yet, I paused to think, I read a book or continue reading one. A thought came to me to find an account to transfer my money to in Mali. I could not find one willing to do this immediately. I then called hubby in Nigeria to help me send money through Western Union or Money Gram. I had to wait till Monday (today) to have a feedback on that. Hubby got back to me with yet a sad news ' Money Gram and Western Union don't send out money from Nigeria'! Since when? Bloody hell! Did I mention how constantly my phone was going off by itself or refuse to call or text? This is the price I have to pay for buying a bloody (excuse my French) touched screen LG phone! In fact, the battery went flat when it was needed the most.


Still thinking ahead, I got in touch with a co- peace and security fellow and a friend in London, to let me please transfer my money into her account and she can withdraw and send via Western Union. She agreed. I will lose money through this process but I will be saved from hunger and disgrace and of course the PAINFUL AND PROLONGED DISTRACTION. I have since suspended my research concept paper! While this was going on, I mentioned to my supervisor when I resumed in the office today all that I have being going through and vuala he loaned me some money! I never expected him to do so as we have this understandable acrimony between us ( or so I thought).


I was distracted big time but I have learnt a lot through these four days of thinking, analysing, thinking, rethinking and wondering where else within my brain to tap into for a solution. This has taught me that no matter how tall the mountain to climb is, you have got to have some climbing faith, and you have got to have confidence and perseverance... I thought I would be a wreck by now but I never stopped thinking and looking at all worst scenerios and all best strategies. I want this lesson to stay with me in my affairs and dealings from now on. And yes, that you may never know who is trully an enemy or a friend until they are put to test...

There is more to life?

Even though I have got a lot of things; in fact sad things to think about, the latest plane crash being one of them, I can't but notice too that there is more to life. The images below serve as a valid and solid proof of my claim.

Yes, you are seeing right, there attached to the furniture are cow horns- nice work, right?


The reason why the Hippotamus statue is wearing a mosquito net is a misery! And do you know that MALI means Hippopotamus?


BON WEEKEND!

Poems for Thought

The best poems ever written by non-poetic me. I wonder how I managed.

     

MY LIFE...
My life is taking a turn,
a turn yet unknown,
It had better be good
for I can't stomach 
anymore disappointments.

Written by standtall in 2002. Can’t remember what inspired this poem but I had a lot of issues ranging from family to relationship, etc to deal with then.

That's my heart

I am bestowed with a killing gift
That's my heart
So encased in a deep daze
That's my heart
It is yet so soft,
 so beautiful but often stupid
That's my heart
My unstable passion

Written by standtall in 2002. I am sanguine. Yes, you just got it!!!

INSEPARABLE COMPANION

It hangs on my shoulders
like it always does
the container of my mortal documents and vanity
the container of my past and my present
my inseparable companion
what can I do without you?

Written by Standtall in 2001. For a friend that was in the University with me who was always carrying a computer bag with all his software, laptop, etc. I never saw Iddy without his bag hence the inspiration. He wanted to kill me when I gave him this poem.

The Wedding

I went for the wedding like I said I would yesterday. I could only meet up with the reception though.

My ex-boyfriend’s clicks (we all used to be friends back then in secondary school) were fully represented, so, I just reunite with them, they couldn’t believe their eyes because to them am now slimmer and with my low cut? Oh my God, you look too young, they said.

I don’t really like weedings, burials and what have you. My reasons for not liking weddings are not far fetched, I detest Aso Ebi and gele stuff, to crown it all, they will make the bride subjective in all their programs by telling her stuff like respect and submit to your husband and making her serve him on her knees (feeding of cake and wine) without remembering to tell the husband his Godly roles in the marriage. A lot of shits that always affect my feminism belief.

Burial? They are always wasteful in Nigeria. Instead of opening a foundation in the memory of the late person, na to waste money to bury am. May be the person even suffered through life without anyone to help but befitting burial is a must. (I have a lot to say on this topic but not now).

So, I got to the wedding reception and choose to tango with my former secondary school click. Almost all the guys are married. One of them Niyi came with his wife and kid. Very fine baby girl. The couple choose to be calling themselves mummy Zainab and daddy Zainab. I said to myself in this age and time? I planned not to eat anything at the wedding but I could not resist the Amala and egusi soup with plenty fried beef I was offered. Well, it got to a point that they brought take away gift for us and only the women were given. About 6 glass cups in each package. So, now gift is be stereotyped too? Glass cups for women and nada for men.

One of my click members said to a lady friend of his (God knows what the conversation was all about) that you women always take from men, you can’t fend for yourself. What an insult, when a lot of women are taking up jobs to support their families, when some are doing 2 jobs so their husbands can go back to school, when some young girls are forced to look for jobs to take care of their families. He sure did not know what he was talking about!!! 

Did I enjoy myself? I can’t really say yes or no because I always observe issues that are not good for my health in events like this but in all, the reunion was fine and the fact that I was able to display my new “African Queen’s look” was refreshing.

INVASION OF PRIVACY: MY COMMERCIAL BUS EXPERIENCE

“I have to get my car. I need to buy a car. I can’t cope with this kind of behaviour anymore”. I tell myself this everyday I enter a bus. I know that having one’s car comes with a lot of hassles too but I am sure the advantages far out weigh the disadvantages like I will sure have my space to myself and my privacy not invaded!

I don’t think I will be crossing my boundary if I say that a lot of commuters especially the men do leave at home their courtesy before coming on board. It’s hard enough having to endure somebody resting on you through your own very back seat for lack of space since everyone is packed like sardine not to now mention the annoying way men reach for money in their pocket. They will reach into their trousers pocket shoving and poking away at your ribs or hips not minding how inconvenient it is for the person sitting next to them be it a man or a woman, a girl or a boy (better believe it!). And the worst part is they do without courteous words like “excuse me” or “sorry” as the case may be seeing how the next person to them is trying to adjust to give them space out of none to do their stuff.

Speaking for myself, I am continually a victim of this and I am reaching or have reached a breaking point. So now I have to be telling them to be courteous when reaching for their pocket (I will start this next week). Like me, I am very ticklish, so any slight movement affects my brain in a negative manner and this is quite beside the point, the real thing is when someone is touching other people while getting to his pocket, courtesy demands that the person apologies knowing that he is invading other party’s privacy. Or is it too difficult to tilt forward or stand up a bit to pick money from their pocket? Can’t that money be kept in a safe place of the shirt’s pocket? And this is commonly done by educated men!!!

Fine, I have sworn to get my own car but the reality of the situation is that I can’t afford one now so what do we do? Hopefully some of this men guilty of this behaviour will read this article and adjust or people like me affected on a daily basis need to rehearse how to ask politely that they take it easy in order not to give in to an argument that will ruin one’s mood if not one’s day!!!

Being courteous is a sign of having etiquette. We need to show more of this in all we do to show how civilized we are.