Our Daily Tags

Apparently, October 19th was International evaluate your life day. Not that I knew this before that day nor would I have, but this blackberry channel I subscribed to, ensured I was duly notified. My initial thoughts upon realizing the observance of that day was that of curiosity. Whose idea and to what end are these daily tags? There is even now a published calendar of daily observances.  Maybe I wouldn’t mind observing World Bandana day as it will conceal my growing baldness but some content of this Calendar are just down right ridiculous.

My other thought was the tendency of this generation to suggest what other people should do. I  guess this comes with living in the Information Age. Everyone is a genius in their own eyes and we apparently just want the world to benefit from our depth! Recently, while  searching online for the manual of the camera I had purchased (Canon is proudly environmental friendly and has always resisted bulk paper printing), I stumbled into a You Tube video describing the unpacking and assemblage of the camera. This sounds nice but the unpacking here involves removing the camera hardware from its paper package and assemblage involves inserting the battery into its socket (in my opinion, anyone smart enough to buy a Canon SX60 does not need a You Tube video for this). My  example may be inappropriate because it attests to the well known belief that men don't like reading hardware manuals (more genius).

Personally I find the turn of the year or on my birthdays as reflective moments to evaluate myself. Added to these are occasional life events and inspirations in a flash. Self evaluations are necessary self-checks that enable us appraise our current position in the pursuit of our goals. They also help us identify the factors affecting our present position and provide us an opportunity to re-affirm (or otherwise) our convictions.

I agree that it does not matter  if our self evaluations are self-driven (and  self-timed), provoked by prevailing circumstances or at the behest of someone else. The latter however,  has a way of taking a swipe at our individuality and can take the credit that we were never responsible for our own personal growth. Whether this matters to everyone, is not for me to answer.

Thank God it's not Friday

It’s past 23:00 hrs local time and I am suddenly pressed to  transform my thoughts to

written words. Thankfully, I am an hour ahead of the time zone embedded on this blog, one more allegiance to my home country. My haste is also in view of the need to complete an online module that I rested on at about 2:00AM earlier today.

What is  the dread for Mondays? The weekend is often a diversion from those routines that society has placed upon us, even without the hangover. It’s a slumber state so to speak, from which we wake up into Monday. The need to begin the day with a certain poise,  pursue goals,  concentrate our emotions (and with measure of uncertainty) makes Mondays hectic and  undesirable.

Today has been one of those days. It  started not at midnight as I have always considered the beginning of the day at waking up. The haste in my steps alluded to the knowledge that I had hoped to cover much ground: new clients at work assembled from the weekend, the traffic office, a much needed second opinion from not only one colleague, queuing at the office of the commissioner of oaths, on and on. I even skipped a much appreciated home-made lunch ( 3 winks to the wife)!

As I ticked off my “to do” list today, I remembered a conversation I once had with a relative on the virtue of being busy. My conclusion was that the busy life is a blessed life, as being busy infers that one is able to express an enablement. Busy in this context is a preoccupation with that which is positive and productive. When we are thus busy, we are maximized, negativity is ignored,  we naturally achieve  more and rest is meaningful. Busyness beget busyness and the cycle stretches us to the point when rest serves a purpose.

If every Monday is like the one I have had, then it ought to be desirable. The fear of Mondays is an anticipatory emotion. As we get lost into its demand, that emotion is relegated, swallowed up in the  glee of every feat achieved during the course of  the day.

Post note: Busy days ought not to be called "long days". When we are busy, we wait less on time, the day practically flies past and 24 hours seems a short time.

Our Sticker Phones

A world without mobile phones is a subject that our parents should tell to their grandchildren even if  the recital of such history could be perceived as a fable. Aside the ridicule, our parents theirselves may find it hard to grasp how they lived without mobile phones since many of them are now so  in tandem with technology. This post was inspired from an observation I made on a senior citizen. It was at a red traffic light. I looked sideways and saw a very elderly lady behind the wheels on my side pull out not a mirror but one of those smart phones with a size-able screen. She looked, then  tapped a few  things onto it until  just before the green. As I drove off to my own destination, I couldn't but think about the bond that exists between my phone and I, my dependence on it, how I deduce people’s character by their attitude to their phones and what potential danger in the use of  a phone. All of us have probably heard this “phone conversation” before. So, what I am writing here about mobile phones is largely the obvious but familiarity deserves our respect too, maybe even more! 

Foremost, we must credit our hand held devices for the role they play in our ability to interact, relate and escape loneliness. Communication is such a vital part of our existence and in our phones we have a very convenient tool. That such a device can now incorporate games, an organizer, music player, a camera, an alarm clock, cheap internet (and its extrapolation in the form of social media, news,  info reference on the go, etc) makes today’s phone  the real deal. So while I wait at the till queue, I could be doing anything from ticking off my to do list, shazam the music coming from over my head, play solitaire, read an emailed invoice of my last online purchase, download the photo of my friend’s new bundle of joy, shoot a video of my son rearranging my shopping basket or listen to a podcast from my phone… until a reminder buzz, from the same phone, interrupts me to call the chap at the office. What we can do with our phones is almost endless, ranging from the meaningful to the  outright bizarre. We want to be heard, we want to know what’s trending and the device through which these are  done reflect our up-to-dateness.

It seems that phone designers and app developers have connived to exploit our desire to know, share, become organized or entertained. Yes, our phones have become a preoccupation. Unfortunately, they are also relegating our etiquette, pose a threat to frank one-on-one interaction and prevent the formation of genuine human bridges. So instead of chatting up with the person(who might be the long lost part of our family tree that we desire to meet) sitting next to us on the train ride home, we are looking or tapping at our phone screens and giggling to ourselves. Even the present US president wanted to keep his blackberry when he became president! Once I went out with work colleagues. We wanted to truly enjoy the company of ourselves away from work and a foremost  agreement was  that all mobile phones would be in the custody of a single person, each person could only receive phone calls but could neither initiate a call nor use any of the other phone applications and these will have to be at the discretion of the temporal custodian of our devices. Also, the  portability of our mobile phones means that no place is spared from its affront on our time. The other day, the lady next to me in church kept typing repeatedly into her phone during the sermon- she was definitely not taking notes because she had a tablet she looked into when scripture references were made.

The preoccupation with our phones do not only alienate us sometimes, they can be very intrusive, especially if you are someone like I, who never switches off his phone ( not even in church since I might be reached from the children’s church if the need arises). I have often found my work interrupted by such things as a salesman’s  call! And going back to the traffic light, how many times have we had a driver behind us blare his car horn before we look away from our phones when the traffic light had turned from red to green or expressed our own disapproval to the driver whose car has been swerving in front of  us because he was on the phone? How long can we drive with our eyes closed? This is less than what we do when we tweet or read a text while behind the wheels because at least when we are blindfolded, all other senses are tuned up.I am not sure how miserable our lives would become if we resist the urge to use our devices when something else that borders on our safety need a full attention. Let's face it though, there is always a thrill of getting away with doing something we shouldn't do. Can we occasionally  take a “chill pill”, bother less about the world and just be native?

One  must not assume that this pre occupation with hand held devices is youthful peculiarity, ditto the elderly lady at the  traffic light. I got tutored on one of those online payments portal I admire  so much via a cell phone from an elderly lady too. A lady again, right? I am not sure if there is a study out there whose subject is gender predilection to phone activity. If so, such a study would infer that our mode of communication characterizes us, an identity “sticker” of our personalities. Or should I say a “sticker” to our persons?

Bad Service

It is amazing when people offering a paid service act like they are doing a favour to the customer. In a sense though, they are doing a favour by making available what is desired by the consumer, but one that is returned in payment. A reversible  favour of convenience one might say since payment is always favorable to business.

So when the lady at the reception today looked at me coming through her office entrance but instantly look her gaze off and continued her conversation with an unseen occupant on the other side of the her office, I heard the alarm bell ringing that another bad service was brewing. Although as  I was not directly at her desk yet, it would be impatient of me to assume that she wouldn't give me her undivided attention when I am stationed right in front of her. I walked up to her, said my greeting twice and her eyes drifted to me and away again. For a moment I felt I was invisible in broad day light…and the vain thoughts that come with such supernatural state ran through my head (  go rob bank for example!). After a few giggles with the unseen party, she finally turned to answer me and that, with no apologies.

It was my first time at that office, there was no one else in the waiting area and it was very obvious that I am a prospective client. With that much cold shoulder meted to me, the urge was to tell her how unpleasant she was and then walk away. However,a mixture of the fact that I was reliably referred there and that the business I sought to pursue had been elusive for more than six months, somehow hatched a cool within me. I just wanted to get my business done. The end does justified the means.

Perhaps another reason for holding up from expressing my displeasure today ,was that lately I have had a succession of tirades in matters similar. My energy level has frankly become temporarily low for such confrontations. I was having one of those moments when it is reasonable to hide under the guise that silence can be a strategy in an argument. Better still, that  one’s voice can be loudest when no sound is made!

Bad service has a away of making us us feel violated and can easily cast an unpleasant cloud over an otherwise merry demeanor – which may be carried by the recipient beyond the service point. It is  a disregard for courtesy and a reflection of attitude. Those  who dish  it out have a high rate of repetition. If (as it seems) those that pay bad service don't often see anything wrong with in their approach to life, contesting them isn't always the best the best solution. Unfortunately too, it is just inevitable to avoid people with a foul attitude. While online services come handy in that they cut off the middle man and its attendant frictions, genuine human interactions can be very rewarding – I just alluded to finding  an elusive service from a referral.

It worthy of note that what a client perceives a bad service is not always so. This may arise among others from a client’s lack understanding of the  modus operandi of  an organization, unrealistic (well, uninformed) expectations, bias or from a genuinely unintended miscommunication. Take these away and offer excellent services, some clients are still going to be fastidious and  critical.

Whatever the response to bad service is, be it vilifying the perpetrator or outrightly turning deaf ears, one must guard oneself from the negativity it can create, deal with it there, then and move on. My default position today was to make an excuse for the offender and get my business done. After all, are only truly in control over our own self.

Nigerian Blues

The other title I’d thought to label this post was “Nigerian Chills”, an attempt to convey that I was not writing about  a musical genre of Nigerian extract. However, I didn’t want the reader at first glance to presuppose that the climate in my country of origin is exactly chilly. The plain truth is that my indecisiveness is borne out of the shyness in putting my thoughts to writing.

Part of the reason why I had a reservation to write out my present thoughts on Nigeria is that I am unsure of the reception it will be accorded by you the reader. I know from my conversation among those of us in “the diaspora” (with a smirk on my face) that there is often a tone of ambivalence or outright disinterest when the homeland is the subject. I also did not not want to brandish an article before my non-Nigerian reader who will be emotionally distant from my thoughts or who would be belaboured again to the loud rants of “these Nigerians”! In addition, I felt my experience is inadequate to sum up a country so vast and heterogenous.

However, I was home recently and I’d like to write some thing about the “land that ever draws us homeward”. The fact that Nigeria co-topped the page-view audience in the last month for Heymeyville is also a boost to write about my country. Besides, as this space originated from the need to express my thoughts, overwhelming or fleeting, it’s only justice to the write this post. I have also decided not to be deterred by the fact my thoughts on Nigeria can not be summed up in one piece of writing.

Upon my return from the visit, folks around me wanted to hear what’s the “gists” at home. The language in which these quizzes were made is often the contraption of the national lingua franca, pidgin as we call it. I remember being reprimanded by a dear friend who visited from Nigeria last year that I spoke too much “broken” English these days. That rebuke stirred my thoughts. Maybe not for the love of every thing imported, but the educated Nigerian in Nigeria prefers syntax that is grammatically correct. But let’s face it, grammar is taught only to Secondary School level and even the undergraduate who majors in English Language isn’t going be tutored on the right sequence of arranging nouns, verbs, plural connotations  or figures of speech. So why the fuss? If every one with a high school education is supposed to be able to speak good English, never mind the tribal ascent, then good syntax is not exactly a status symbol!

The flip side of the foregoing is that parents are generally apprehensive that when their wards are exposed to an “informal” version of English language, they may become deficient in the use of the official medium of learning and communication. This is definitely a valid point. However, Pidgin is different and is not necessarily poor grammar. I was amazed when for the first time I found out other English speaking nationals in my present niche could not follow a conversation in pidgin. For those of us “out” here it is a native code,  a colloquial identity and proudly ours.

It is that swag in our conversation that is sometimes judged as arrogance. Okay, the non-Nigerian does not comprehend the basis upon which we blow our trumpet and so it is considered loud. By default, people tend to mind their business in public and so there is a jolt when Nigerians don't observe the rules. Back at home, it is considered improper when a passer-by does not say a greeting for example. In fact, neighbours would come around the house sometimes just to greet our parents. I guess we are a community. Our culture is deep and our individual families have deeper secrets. That said, cultures are varied.  In as much as the expression of one’s identity need not threaten the existence of another, one should identify the prevailing lifestyle of the environment their abode and live accordingly -  in a positive way.

On my trip, I was also reminded of the vigor with which we express our beliefs. One is tempted to think that Karl Marx had just visited modern Nigeria when he said “religion is the opium of the people”. I wonder if Marx was referring to opium in terms being hallucinogenic. From wall posters to hear-says, religion has become a major determinant of our culture. We have outdone the original missionaries, a fact alluded too by the joke about two people in an elevator. One asked “ are you going up or down?” The other replied “I can only go up in Jesus’ name”! Now that I have been to other climes, I can agree with my sister when those years ago she found me listening an American gospel singer and she said they don't do church like us in America.

The religiosity perhaps is an indication of the hunger within, which by the way is not exclusive to Nigerians. We do have that yearning for a utopia, whether we realize it has more meaning or not. There is always that hope for something better, even when there is no particular basis for it. Maybe, that is why we travel, why we speak loud (so as to be heard), why we want to live large or why we exert so much energy on everything else. Whether it's happiness, wealth, deeper fulfillment, health or just to prove a point, we always find a way to get to where we want to (a classmate calls it the “anyhowness” of Nigerians). What motivates us is both what we are running away from and what we are running towards, I guess. I am Nigerian.

New Beginings

Happy new year to my readers...and followers!

Yesterday was one of those days I had chosen to do some domestic chores. As I am home alone at the moment, everything was going to be done to the sound of loud music. I wanted something from the past and remembered a friend had recently "drop-boxed" some oldies that I had not downloaded.  So I picked the lap top which is seldom used these days and on opening Firefox to access my email, the web browser showed the following message:
"It looks like you haven't started Firefox in a while. Do you want to clean it up for a fresh , like-new experience? And by the way, welcome back!"
I couldn't but let out a smile as my mind drifted to the many things I ought to catch up on, the pages of this blog inclusive.

It's still early in the new year and I remember opening my Facebook page at the end of the 2014 only to be startled by an amazing reality. On my  home page was a post by the site developers summarizing my year. It had only one picture and it was that of my son who was born of the first day of January, 2014. I stared at that photograph on the day, smiled to myself (and intrigued as well). It was  as if a stalker with good intentions had given a concise highlight of my year with a single photo shot. Parenting has been a whole new fascinating experience for me. It is beyond words. Hopefully, as the days evolve, I might be to expand a  recurrent theme and put them up on this forum.

The turn of the year also afforded me an opportunity to meet a few more readers (do I dear say followers?!) of this blog. In plain terms, I travelled and reunited with people as well as said my seasons' greeting to many during the holidays. As conversations were being made, people referred to a one theme or the other from my older blog posts. The origins of people's bond these days are unfathomable, isn't it? It's always nice to know people heard you speak. More so when such a  hearing has to be derived from a deliberate effort on web so wide! However, as the update on the pages of the blog have been non-existent recently, I usually felt a guilt after those conversations, one of the disappointing emotions that I hope has gone with last year.

I am of the opinion that people should never turn their back on what has brought them recognition even if the line of activity is not preferred. For example, it was an anticlimax when Michael Jordan side-tracked into baseball those years ago. The quest for something new is always exciting but the things we have always done were at least a springboard to our present realities. So here is to  unending inspirations ...and many blog postings!

Happy new year to everyone again and I hope that my belated greetings are still in order for those who I haven't reached this year. New Year days, birthdays, anniversaries and the like often arrive with much elation. For me, there are seasons in life. It is for us to know where our drives are in each season, make the most of and find happiness in it. So if the turn of this year translates to your new season, then I wish you all the best now or whenever it comes.
Many Cheers.

A SIGH OF RELIEF?



At the car park after wrapping things up

"Exams are over, I feel light". Those were my paraphrased words a week ago after I had finished with my research presentation and which basically drew the curtains of my post grad training. At the beginning of this endeavor, I alluded in a blog post then that "learning never ends". This is true as being a student of health science means that one has to keep abreast of an ever evolving discipline. However, there is a sigh of relief at the moment, one that is a let-out steam and which indicates that some feat has been completed.

The mental alertness that one bears during prolonged study comes at a price. These last few weeks have needed a real shut down from every other thing that entangles the mind. Life as I knew it was relegated to the background of my thoughts. Friends and relatives who did not reach out heard very little from me; my video club membership went inactive; I even timed my meal time to coincide with when my club's game was being aired on TV once! Only the basics and essential became my custom. Perhaps attesting to the fact that only few things really matter in life.

At last, I breathe some other air. The world of assignments, exams, online discussion boards that one must initiate and then contribute to, logbooks (!) and sundry deadlines are over. Not that these are a burden in themselves, considering that they squeeze the juice out of us over time, making us thoroughbred in the career  of our choice. In addition, studying gives us the opportunity to genuinely interact with other people from varying educational and cultural backgrounds. There is also the privilege of gleaning the the fields of knowledge possessed by one's teachers (especially if like me, your thesis supervisor is a national name of the discipline of study). Isaac Newton got it spot-on when he said "if I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants".

One can never really take a pause from learning though. The bulk of what we know is acquired passively. When the students of science from old concluded that the characteristics of living things included adaptation, one could say they meant learning. Just a day after the final exams, I went to the stores to arm myself with some books on parenting (yes, the subject of another blog post...hopefully soon) and a collection of political thriller novels. I guess it means I am alive!

So my sigh of relief is by no means the last of such. Brief as it may, I will revel in it.    

Also, here is to say happy cheers to those colleagues who became friends while we studied together

HAVE I EMERGED?

Alas, I have composed myself to write something that can be blogged. A few weeks ago I thought about the dearth in my blog updates. Since I have done a number of traveling this past year, I had concluded that I would upload pictures of my own shots, somehow to assert that notion that " a picture is worth a thousand words". The rundown of Heymeyville obviously attests to the fact that I am yet to do this!

I wish I could thrust my pointing finger to a single reason why I have not written much lately, but I am reminded that what we have time for is a choice. The other day, my pastor said in church that "time is priority". So where is my writing  priority? What happened to my organized self? Have I found a new way to debrief, make my perspective or smile at the world?

Writing helps me create perspective.  My activities have created pattern. The pattern that I have emerged with since my last blog post perhaps reflects the perspective I have gained all this time. It's not that writing is no longer on my priorities, but accumulated perspectives have produced an outcome: other priorities. So why I might not have punched out written words, I have actually been trying to live within the components of my perspective on life. There comes those seasons of life when we pursue what we have previously evaluated. It does not matter whether we achieve all, but we pull the plug and the process of life is expressed.

It does occur to me that the reality in which I will live in from henceforth have changed. Family, career, social interaction and even necessities have assumed new levels and I must live in the context of these. All that said, how I love to write again. Perhaps soon enough.
I miss writing.

THE INTERFACE

I once heard about someone who sighted something in the atmosphere and thought he had seen a UFO. Unknown to him it was a long since-abandoned Soviet satellite. One of its booster rockets did not fire and it remained afloat in the air. It’s a reminder to me of a period when two powerful nations challenged each other and boldly reached out to outer space.


As I reflect on this, the question on my mind is what will be the next thing that challenges me or mankind, which will make me (us) go further and work harder? When Small Pox was eradicated, it was considered the most important humanitarian achievement of that century. The world has since been inundated with diverse other accomplishments.

Indeed life is a journey, not a destination. Just when we have achieved a feat, there is another mountain to climb. The point of translation from one to the other demands rigid thinking. We plan, dilly dally, wish otherwise but get on with things anyway. One may call it the valley of decision-making, a moment of truth or a midnight hour. It infers something is about to break loose. We are about to get out of a comfort zone but the non-assurance of the unknown makes our thoughts loiter.

However, we can draw inspiration both from past accomplishments and the better deal from hitting the bull’s eye in the impending aspiration. Sure, man has risen beyond the plague and life has never been more simple or complex! Our moments of truth should drive us to progress, one that we achieve by getting on with what is before us.

SUGAR-FREE

A few weeks ago, I became officially overweight. This was without any deliberate effort; the kind of thing you just suspect when you struggle with your usual size in the fitting room. You make an excuse that in these days of international trade, sizes differ from one country to another, this lovely shirt must have been sized from another country as your last. Vain! I. Stepped on the scale that day, worked the maths and reality stared finally in the face.

The interplay of what makes people fat is both complex and simple in my opinion : what one eats or drinks, physical exercise, gene pool and all the other things students of science tell us. Of all, lifestyle choices are summarily blamed the most. For someone like me whose height has not added an inch since age 21 or so years, I am now poised to ask if my choices have come haunt me. As much as I want to get on an on exercise regimen, I am often so fatigued at the end of the working day that I just want to lay down and rest. I don't consider myself a glutton with an unmatched appetite for burgers though. I feed on bits here and there. Also, for my stomach sake (an unpleasant low threshold for 'stomach bugs') I am very choosy of what goes into my mouth. As for one's genes, one might not have decided the sequence that has been inherited, but to a great extent what one becomes/does with/about them is a matter of choice.

In another setting, the increment on my weight would be considered as an evidence o f good living - not in today's trendy world! Cosmetics aside, the health implications from excess body weight are far reaching, potentially reducing the quality of one's life. So as it stands,I am obliged to eat less; in quantity and in frequency. I have leaned towards keeping my kitchen shelves and the carbines of my fridge stocked with the likes of coke light or coke zero, low-salt seafoods, low cholesterol cooking oils or butter, low fat biscuits, brown sugar or artificial sweeteners, low fat yoghurt for some years now. Do these really do the job of weight control? They haven't so far. Do I really have to do the calorie math, stick to a certain dietary regimen and deny myself every lust of the eyes? The rewards are certainly desirable.

These few weeks, I have seen the effect of just eating less on my body. An exercise protocol would be added soon. I have opted to lose weight gradually (too suddenly comes with dire consequences, especially with the female folk). It's a deliberate life of starving now. Perhaps a life of self-control too.

THE POTTERY BARN RULE

Recently I read something pasted on the wall in a store that drew my giggle. It read "if you break it, you pay for it". An old cliche one might say, but I was simply reminded of the answers given by Collin Powell on this week's Time magazine when quizzed on "the pottery barn rule".

 Simply put, the rule states that " you break it, you own it". How true! Human beings from the first have a knack of passing the buck. Too quickly, we brandish a prideful glee when our resourcefulness is on display. But whenever damage is done, like the proverbial Ostrich, we hide our head in the sand of excuses, denial and finger-pointing. Even a child in his naivety puts together the damaged toy of another to look like it has not been broken. Futile, isn't it? Futile because, the older person does not only see things from a broader sense, he in fact knows the trick!

The issue here is not about being optimistic when one has "messed up". That is certainly very positive. But it is about agreeing to what damage has been done, owning it, taking responsibility for our actions or facing up to the consequences of our decisions. By doing this, our lives are free from the suck of regrets. It becomes the stand point from which optimism is built.

The shelves in the store that precipitated my thoughts were not over-loaded with everything fragile. If anything, they had glass coverings. So the chances of anything being broken were much less than usual. Invariably, damage can still be done, hence the warning on the wall. Life is almost like that. It's not that we set out to break every thing that crosses our paths (well, I can't really speak for folks with persistent clumsiness). Sometimes, things just happen that we would prefer otherwise. They happen in the minority. We should "own up" and move on.

ALL IN DAY'S WORK: A Doctor's Reward

I walked in to do my rounds this morning and was greeted with cheers by my staff. Puzzled, I questioned the ovation. The answers I got, paraphrased were 'look at our baby', 'don't you remember our baby?' Sitted and playing on the lap of someone by the nurses' desk was a chubby, healthy-looking baby. My thought flashed hurriedly into a wild guess. And I was spot-on. It was the baby I had struggled to resuscitate after birth some eight months ago. Born via caesarian section, I had vacated my anaesthetic seat to help help resuscitate him when the APGAR score in the first and fifth minute were less than 5! The protocol is for such babies to be referred to institutions with the the man power and facilities to manage further.

On this day however, my colleague on the other end of the phone said the obvious; the child would have most likely suffered significant brain damage. I was to keep the baby and manage within the capacity of my institution. It was quite a spectacular picture of me ambu bagging the child in an incubator from the theatre to the nursery. Somehow and at some point, the child picked up and was weaned off oxygen. But before this, the unmarried mother died! This was shortly after surgery. Post motem later revealed cause of death to be pulmonary embolism. It was a very distressing time at work. The official paper trail of maternal deaths is not what one could wish for any doctor.

'My baby' improved to the point of being discharged from the hospital to his relatives. On the set date, I had gone round the hospital taking monetary and other contributions from staff to assist the non-working grand mother in with whatever way. I went as far as almost blackmailing my colleagues to up their contributions and it was very rewarding.

Today is my first day of seeing the child since being discharged from hospital. It was an exciting surprise, more so seeing how well he looked. I felt a sense of reward. The professional calling to serve humanity, including in matters of death are carried out within busy schedules, in so much that there is no personal reflection on the impact of one's work. Other times, after routine things are done to save a life, the recipients leave healthy and their path never crosses one's path again! Today was an exception. For me, I draw inspiration from moments like today's.

Safe to say, it is a privilege to be of assistance to any one, especially if it is within scope of one's duty. I am full of gratitude for the opportunities I have had so.

PS. To my non-doctor readers, pardon my jargons. Sometimes there are no colloquial words to describe the gravity of medical stuff.

ANOTHER ONE

After a hectic week and busy overtime last night no less, I came home today craving for a deserved rest. Like an annoying spell however, sleep has been terribly elusive. All my tricks have failed and my pensive mode has just been activated.


My thoughts have strayed here, there and finally on a live event far way. Someone very dear to me is getting married. Of course, some one is always getting married, but the groom of my interest today is a person that I have struggled again to describe in one word. Friend, brother, junior, colleague or lieutenant? The latter is a fine description as he is the most loyal dude one can hope for. A go-to guy, whom I have only stopped short of asking to find me a wife!

I am nostalgic of the energy within the company I kept those formative years of the past, a world that is far from comparison with the present. The 'pursuit of happiness' has stretched one's value in and view of life, but the fundamental has remained enshrined within the core of my existence. Who I am today is derived from the people I have met in the past.

So, as another leaves the company of good old folks to start a separate unit of the society, I reflect with joy and thank all those who have meant a lot to me, went the extra mile or by simply being theirselves, have filled me with pleasant memories. Demilade, today is your day, I wish you all the best you ever hoped for and which you truly deserve. Believe me, I dreamt of of how I would have smiled and dance at your engagement and wedding reception. Happy married life. Since I am in this mood, I have remembered you Niyi, my 'personal person'; Bukky Akindipe, for all the stability you ensured; Yemisi Oyeyipo, whom I respect and love so much; and David for the broader perspective you always gave. As for you, Joe - you are a chapter, perhaps two, in my autobiography!

My list of friends has grown and the impact on me has been varied. I can not count it all in a moment's thought. I feel privileged today. Thank you everyone.

ADIEU MATE!

She was someone I shared the same birthday with. Her life was glamorous and her impact was global.  She was known as Whitney Houston. As the world mourns the death of this diva today, I have decided to post the lyrics of a song of hers that I found inspiring as a younger boy growing up.

Well, there's a bridge and there's a river that I still must cross

As I'm going on my journey
Oh, I might be lost
And there's a road I have to follow, a place I have to go
Well, no-one told me just how to get there
But when I get there I'll know
'Cause I'm taking it

[Chorus]
Step by step, bit by bit,
Stone by stone (Yeah), brick by brick (Oh, yeah)
Step by step, day by day, mile by mile (ooh, ooh, ooh)

And this old road is rough and ruined
So many dangers along the way
So many burdens might fall upon me
So many troubles that I have to face
Oh, but I won't let my spirit fail me
Oh, I won't let my spirit go
Until I get to my destination
I'm gonna take it slowly 'cause I'm making it mine

[Chorus]
Step by step (you know I'm taking it), bit by bit (bit by bit, come move),
Stone by stone (yeah), brick by brick (brick by brick by brick by brick mmm...)
Step by step (step by step uh-huh), day by day (day by day-ee),
Mile by mile (ooh), go your own way.

Say it, baby, don't give up
You got to hold on to what you got,
Oh, baby, don't give up,
You got to keep on moving on don't stop (yeah yeah).
I know you're hurting, and I know you're blue,
I know you're hurting but don't let the bad things get to you.

[Chorus]
I'm taking it step by step (ohohoh), bit by bit (bit by bit come move),
Stone by stone (stone by stone yeah), brick by brick (brick by brick by brick by brick),
Step by step (I'm gonna take it now),day by day (day by day-ee),
Mile by mile (ooh), go your own way!

(C'mon baby got to keep moving),
I'm taking it step by step), bit by bit,
Stone by stone (yeah, stone by stone), brick by brick
C'mon baby,

Step by step keep on moving, day by day (day by day-ee),
Mile by mile by mile by mile,go your own way,
C'mon baby got to keep moving, bit by bit (bit by bit, bit by bit)....

  A youtube video can be seen on the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVyO0I_kJuw&noredirect=1

LOUNGING

I started to write this post while waiting on a lounge for a flight, hence the title. Also, I have described my recent activities using the word 'lounging'. That's because every day in the last week has been like a Saturday; the type that comes with a prior late Friday and followed by a Sunday with no duty calls. It's called being on a holiday.

The year seems not only to have landed with a loud tud, but to have skidded on a run way at frenetic pace. So my holiday (which has not ended any way) has come handy - not only to enjoy the clearance sales overflowing from christmass stock but to allow a much needed calm away from regualr life. The latter is helping me to have a perspetive that I will run the year with. My  control freak person at his best!

Who wants to leave anything to chance? Even the sermon in church last Sunday threw an extra garnish on my often-expressed love for the deliberateness of life. So as this year comes with a newness to living, my wish is for all my readers to ensure a deliberate and positive life. That no matter what life throws at us this year, there would be no accidental responses.

This infers chosing to make a joke of an emberrassing moment; making an excuse for others when we prefer they don't act the way they have acted; lighting a candle instead of cursing the darkness; seeing the glass half-full rather than half-empty.It's not control but living according one's terms; living a life of our own. Happy new year everyone!

BUSY BEE

I have been meaning to write on these pages for a few days now. Despite having about four recurring themes running through my mind, I have not just had the calm to pour out my thoughts. This is ironical of sorts. Somehow, I have engaged my free time of late with a schedule of very engaging personal tasks.


I love it when I write. When my plausible writing time is not stifled by plain fatigue but by time spent on other planned activities, my satisfaction is even. The same is true of our lives. It’s the reason why we don’t feel regret at the end of a busy day spent on doing things we have outlined to do; even if we missed out on our favourite show. That said, when say a doctor who plays in a jazz band squeezes his busy schedule to attend his band’s performance, the sense of fulfilment is unequalled.

So it is that in our busiest moments, we find the joy of life. We all love to have time to ourselves, doing our own thing or nothing in particular, a “cool-off” or a “chill-out”. When these are not consequent upon meaningful activity, they tend towards being meaningless. However in the converse, we look forward to such moments and enjoy every sip of it.

The thrill of being busy is not only in the satiety of the rest that ensues, but also in the fact that we feel maximized at those moments. Suddenly, we become more organized, activities are prioritised, time is wisely spent and the year runs very fast! We sleep tired and wake up refreshed. As long as we are not physically tired, our creative imagination is turned on. A joke is just one and no meanings are read into it. We carry ourselves with a sense of purpose and life is just meaningful.

Much as being busy infers virtue, I still dread it when a busy day looms. The good thing is that the day comes along, I get lost in its busyness until when I can sit and reflect. As I just did.

CAUGHT UP

Yesterday, as I drove home from visiting a friend I was caught up in the beauty of nature. It composed of regular things that given a company in the car, I may have chatted myself away from this acknowledgement. Not on this day though. I was alone in the car, the stereo hummed a soft beat and besieged by my circumstances of late, I was always going to be in a pensive mood.


I had just gone past a road construction delay point, over took some utility vehicles and then beyond the pattering of heavy down pour when I came on a straight road with the glow of sunset right before me. The clouds were behind me and the highway seems to lead straight to the glowing ball on the western horizon of planet earth. Some dark clouds were still positioned at the periphery of the sun but rays of light seem to pierce right through them. Those same clouds also did not stop the cast from the sun to reach the wet road in front of me as the latter reflected like a path paved in gold. I could still hear the patter of light drizzles on the lush grassland either side of the road.

The landscape stretched beyond me unto hills and valleys. I was so enthralled I wished I could break, turn off the ignition, take a walk towards one of those hills and when atop, just gaze into tranquillity under the light drizzles. As I entered into town, I lifted my eyes and it was to the rainbow. It seemed I had passed under its arch and the points where it touches the earth were visible. I wished I could position myself right in the middle of that portion of land!

My thought have reeled over the sight and I have re-lived the feeling again. There is inspiration around us if only our minds are calm. Beyond the cloud of doubt and difficulties is the clarity and hope of light. These aside, the earth is beautiful and nature is a miracle. I was caught up in it.

HOW TIME FLIES

Indeed, how time flies. People dream of magical moments, look forward to an event or prepare for an experience; the time comes and no matter whether enticing or troubling, it rolls by eventually. My thoughts drifted along these themes when a few days ago, I had to say byes to a team of colleagues with whom I had spent some eventful weeks of specialized training. Coincidentally, it was also the beginning of December and suddenly the year’s end was in view.


Those two weeks were more than just “doping” people for surgery. In fact it was an engaging twist of meeting people, learning tricks on the job, listening to the varied scientific opinions of others and of course being confronted with attitude (plenty of it). So without much deliberateness, we had gotten quite used to interacting with one another until suddenly it was time to split. Unfortunately, with separation comes the knowing that one may never be in the company of those folks one was dispersing from. Emotions are thence let loose.

A few days before those hugs and the promise to call, I was already looking forward to leaving. Suddenly it felt like I had missed my space, my routines and even my bed - the same stuff that I was happy to get away from only just a couple of weeks before. The lyrics of a certain song about not chasing waterfalls but to stick with the rivers and the lakes one is used to readily come to mind. For as much as one should not be afraid to step out of one’s comfort zone, many a time the adventure anticipated in the unknown may indeed be less juicy than our present experiences.

Taking responsibility for one’s actions also infers making the most of the outcome of those actions. And as I reflect on the year’s end, I am bemused by how much the pieces have combined to make my life’s experience in 2011. In the course of living, one can never be conscientious enough in knowing how time flies.

AND I SNAPPED

A few days ago, I snapped. My reason for snapping was that some one was snapping at me. When people use position and privilege to spite others, no matter how subtle, repulse is expressed. Unfortunately, I was on the receiving end on the day and I had to voice my frustration. As much as I now agree that my timing was inappropriate, sometimes the end simply justifies the means!


Everyone has a value. Everyone should all be treated with at least, a basic dignity. Respect does not have to be earned; it is the reserve of all until perhaps proven otherwise. I had probably forgotten my resolve on matters of respect from others until I was jolted by this incidence. The diversity of human behaviour has a way of waking us up from the slumber of our perceived emotional stability. By this, I mean as much as I value the opinion people have of me; I have also been able to balance it with ignoring the opinion which bends towards humiliation.

I am wandering at the moment which other aspect of my “cool” will be ruffled next. One’s life can never be rehearsed but public demeanour is almost proportional to maturity. The practise of those relaxation exercises in anger management makes sense but one may end up violating oneself. One’s original self is irreplaceable. In the end, one should just be oneself and I was just being myself when I snapped at being humiliated by a colleague on the day of reference.

NO BYES, STEVE JOBS!

T he world woke up this morning to the sad news of Steve Jobs death. His battle with cancer had reached a tragic end. Perhaps the shock of his passing was tapered because she knew that he had been plagued by a condition with an almost inevitable outcome. All the same, it was greeted with profound grief.

I once had a conversation with a friend over a Time magazine article on Steve Jobs. It was in 1998. My friend was of the opinion that Steve Jobs was the most ingenious person in the techno-world. I was routing for Bill Gates then. My standpoint was that Microsoft made computing universal and demystified. Through the portal of user-friendly software, Team Bill Gates marketed the binary box to the point that computers indeed became personal. For me then, the tease of computing innovations, which seem like the domain of Team Steve Jobs at the time, was always going to go wild and appealing as the days go.

Since then, the world has been awed over and again as Apple churned out one product after another. What has struck me in all these is the standard of each of these technological innovations. The bar is always so high with Apple’s products that they are the yardstick in the evaluation of similar products. Here in is Steve Jobs’ impact in the world: each of his products becomes a trend by which every other is measured. I dare say that years after his death, his works will live on.

Death is always greeted with grief but in between the sniffs for Steve Jobs, is an adoration of his achievement. The world is a better place because of you, Steve Jobs. No byes.