Happy Days,
Afam.

I am Nigerian. I don't know that I've ever quite stated it like that but it's true, I am Nigerian. I am Nigerian even though I've spent the greater part of the last 6 years away and even though I no longer sound like one. I think the big change happened when I was 18. For a year I was the only black English speaking African at Cheltenham. During this time my West African guttural tone was battered and honed into what it is now: a weird fusion between my original Nigerian accent and a thick Southern English one.

As a result of this change, when I'm in Nigeria people tend to assume that I am a visitor. They assume that I was reared on distant shores. They cannot believe that I have only been away for 6 years. They think, "Surely someone that talks as you do must have lived in England since he was 5." I never know what to make of this and I cannot imagine what they must think of me. They must think that I ditched the ruddy bloody thing as quickly as I could and they wouldn't be wrong. At school I needed to be understood. I got tired of saying things three times and speaking very slowly.

 I just saw the Goodluck Jonathan interview with Christiane Amanpour and I cannot see what all the fuss is about. Would you rather they had interviewed his wife? In my opinion the woman shouldn't be permitted to speak English on duty. She must be provided with a translator. I'll tell you why I didn't mind it as much as a lot of you did.

• Have you heard yourself speak? If you are Nigerian think about this one very carefully. There's something I like to call tin, dem, dos. This is in reference to people who say tin, instead of thing, dem instead of them, and dos instead of those. It is unbelievably common in Nigeria. So you shouldn't turn on your president for making the same mistakes that you do. You voted him in. Who knows? You probably voted for him because he talks like you.
• He did not attempt to don a false accent. He should be rewarded for this. There is nothing worse than rubbish phonetics. I once met a chap who told me that his name was Iferni. Through out the remainder of our conversation I thought deeply about what sort of name Iferni was. Iferni is not a common Nigerian name. I had a eureka moment when I suddenly interjected, "did you mean Ifeanyi?" When he said "yes" I very nearly died. 
• He held his own. Nigeria has it's problems but there's something honourable about choosing not to air the issues on international television. He may have come off as defensive but I think I like him more because he was defensive. When people are talking to you about your child and saying awful things about him or her, what kind of parent would you be if you revealed the thick of it in public? What kind of parent would you be if you washed your hands of the child and said "This Child is irredeemable, God help us all?" 
• I think Nigerians have developed the habit of setting themselves up for disappointment. What were you expecting? Were you expecting him to suddenly morph into a great orator? If you have some sort of genie with magical powers then I'd like to graduate with a first class degree without doing any work at all! Put in a good word for me will you?

Of course there are several things he could work on, like looking at the camera. There's just something shady about not making any eye contact. Some English lessons couldn't go amiss but I feel like that would be asking for too much...

P.S
There seems to be a horrid trend in the Nigerian blogosphere. I cannot understand why people feel the need to use so many complicated and generally unwieldy words. Are you a fiend? Take this phrase for example, "excusable pressures of impromptu dialogic exchange". Of course I know what it bloody means but is it necessary to be so impossible? I find that in our quests to ensure that we sound educated and intelligent we often go over board. If you are in fact educated and intelligent then don't worry about it. The truth will come out one way or the other.

Happy Days,
Afam

Photo: The Telegraph

Have you lot heard of this? I apologise because as a blogger being the last to hear about a possible trend is unacceptable. As a blogger you're meant to be up to date and well versed in the intricate details of every story as soon as it breaks. You're meant to stand ready at the gates delivering your commentary before the public knows what it is you are commenting about.

If you haven't yet heard of this you are terrible and you should thank me, Afam for bringing you up to speed.

Meggings, as you might have guessed are leggings for men. While I confess to being rather dandy, foppish and progressive I'm skeptical about this "movement" that's apparently taking the fashion world by storm. There are many reasons why you should think long and hard before you attempt it. I'll give you a few.

I'll start with the obvious. The defining feature of any man is that dangly thing in-between his legs and the two ball-like things in his sack. Yes, I mean his penis and his balls. I'm afraid that in a pair of leggings these things will be borderline offensive. Can you imagine going to pick up your child from daycare clad in such? With your boys on display like that you're practically a sex offender. You'll inspire all sorts of questions like, "mummy, what is that bulging thing between that man's legs, how come my ken doll doesn't have it?"

If you have a largish stomach and by largish I mean a stomach that is not flat then you'll probably end up looking like a pumpkin on toothpicks. This is and can never be a good thing.

Legs are something that many neglect in the gym. We focus on our arms, pecs and abs and forget that beneath them lie a pair of scrawny chicken-like appendages that should always be well covered. Those things you call legs should never be highlighted so. If you are the opposite of this and have legs that could stand to lose a few pounds then don't. Cellulite is real. No one wants to see yours.

Meggings are ridiculously difficult to pull off as you not only have to have the body of a demigod to wear them and look normal, you also have to have the temperament and personality of a rock legend. So before you jump unto this one give it a good think.

Happy Days,
Afam

I feel like my soul has been tethered to some sweeping movement of thought, and that I am closer to discovering the true point of it all. At the very least I am closer than I was 172 minutes ago. I am fairly certain that the cause of this great stir is the movie, Cloud Atlas.

It begins with an old bearded Tom Hanks sitting by a fire delivering a truly astounding monologue,


"Lonesome night. Babbits bawlin', wind bitin' t'bone. Wind like this carries voices, ancestry howlin' at'cha, screaming their stories, all their voices tied up in't'one. And out there's you know who spyin' from the dark... Old Georgie and me crossed paths more times'n I'm comfy mem'ryn. After I'm died no tellin' what that fangy devil won't try to do to me... Listen close and let me yarn you 'bout the first time we met eye to eye..."


The monologue tells you what you need to know about the movie. It tells you that this movie is not one that you watch while having a heated argument about whether or not Beyonce lip synced the American National Anthem, it's the sort that demands your attention from the start.

It is quite possibly the best movie I have ever seen, and undoubtedly the best movie of the current decade. Once it's begun it assumes the form of some great crusade. It surges through you like a bursting rapid and connects dots that you didn't know could be connected. The feeling is quite profound. It is the perfect combination of a eureka moment and another moment of intense sadness. Upon completion, you'll be left with the most overwhelming feeling. You will not understand how they managed to turn it out as one movie when it was truly 6 connected only by dialogue, recurring characters and a truly remarkable sound track. It is a grand sweeping effort. Even if you disagree with me about its quality, I am sure that you will agree that it is the best value for money that one can ever hope to gain from a film.

I cannot believe that it was completely snubbed at the Oscars. As I was watching it, I knew that I would see it again and even now as I watch it again, I know that I'll definitely see it a third time. I'll keep watching it until I have understood all that there is to be understood about it. 

Happy Days,
Afam

Famz is not a new thing in Nigeria...

I'm sorry about the opening line. You see, it's a little bit of an inside joke. When I was a very young school boy a little over a decade ago at a rather good Nigerian boarding school, I did a subject called the Introduction to Technology. In this subject I was taught that the definition of technology was "Technology  is not a new thing in Nigeria." If your answer did not include that phrase, it was a little better than rubbish.

Now that you understand I'll begin again.

Famz is not a new thing in Nigeria. Now you're probably thinking, "BUT WHAT THE METAL GARRURUMON IS FAMZ?"

Metal Garurumon is a digimon. I often insert the names of pokemon, digimon and other such nonentities in the place of swear words because being a potty mouth can never ever be attractive. Inserting the names of Pokemon, digimon and other such nonentities is infinitely more interesting than swearing because you'll be thought of as a geek. Geek is sheek. This is probably a good place to state that this paragraph is asexual.

Behold Metal Garrurumon

Because I really didn't know how to define the word famz I turned to the Urban dictionary because it's generally a good, well informed source on all relevant global matters. The Urban Dictionary defines famz as...

"a nigerian word popularly used amongst the children of the rich elite especially in Lagos. You know, students in Grange, Whitesands, Greensprings, Redeemer's, Vivian Fowler, Lagoon, Atlantic-Hall, Olashore, Avi-Ceena, Dowen, Corona e.t.c

It refers to a situation where someone you do not know familiarises themselves with you because they have heard about you or because you're such a friggin legend or because you're popular. This typically refers to someone who is not in your social circle or someone who may be trying to infiltrate your social circle just so he/she can say "shiit i know him/her, we're friends"


The above is heavily paraphrased. I wasn't able to put the actual quote on the old blog without altering it. If you are so inclined you may find the original here

If you are the sort of person that would allow filth like this to spew from your mouth or roam about in the undoubtedly empty fixture you call a head then remove stick from anus immediately. It's not that serious and you're not that important. If you are so fortunate that people should seek to befriend you because of your reputation then be thankful. If you find that their advances are improper and/ or uncalled for then be polite about it.


The thing about the word famz is that it's age specific. It should only ever be used by those between the ages of 11 and 17. Those in their spring time of youth. The spring time of youth is an amazing time. It allows for the indulgence of every stupid impulse one might have.

I'll share one of my very daft impulses with you. When I was 13, I decided that it was about time that I started sagging. There's really nothing sexier than some bum cleavage right? In comparison to the other boys at school my boxers were pretty decent too. They were too decent to not be on public display. They were all Marks and Spencer's pick and mix with the exception of one or two Gap numbers. It was on one fine saturday morning that I realized that while sagging might be cool it wasn't for me. I'd sagged my gym shorts during early morning exercise. While doing push ups the elastic band of my gym shorts tugged on the base of my boxers and revealed my arse to the entire year. I did not realise this until some concerned citizens tapped me on the back and informed me that I had been mooning everyone for the better part of 5 minutes. My trousers remained rooted to my unusually high waist after that. Sagging is not for everyone. Fortunately it's no longer cool. I think it was quite the unhygienic trend. One layer between the gassy expulsions of your body and the unsuspecting world is not enough.

To relieve the twenty somethings that may or may not have peaked in high school of their shame (Because using the word famz at your age is rather shameful), I Afam have come up with a most ingenuous plan.

From this day until the end of all days the verb To Famz  will now mean to read the ramblings of a madman Afam.

The noun Famzer will be restricted to one who reads the Ramblings of a Madman Afam.

In a sentence:
I did a lot of Famzing yesterday. Afam is such a clever chap!

I am a Famzer. 

There's no need to thank me. Yes, I am the kindest most considerate soul in all the world. So I'll get at you later Famzers.

Happy Days,
Afam

Happy New Year. Yes, I am aware that it is now the 24th of January and as such 23 days late but you'll have to forgive me. After all I am Afam, Afam the Magnificent, the Clever, the Bold, the godly, the demi-god (Get creative with it. Any positive adjective will do. I'll even accept Afam the Ridiculous, because those who permit themselves to ridiculed in public do the world a service. They serve as the punching bags of the world.)

I'll be perfectly honest with you. I was delighted to see the back of 2012. My 2012 was just like the movie 2012. In 2012 I ran a little bit mad. I kid you not, I have a therapist, a killer prescription and everything. However I'm the sort of chap who'll look at the pieces of his life falling apart and say, "What a magnificent disaster! Do the pieces not fall beautifully?" there is beauty and delight to be had in everything. You need only aspire to see it.

I welcomed the new year as I've welcomed most other new years; deep in prayer at Church. It's a little bit of a Nigerian tradition. The last time I asked Papa Afam if I could party in the New Year, I was fixed with a look of such disdain and disbelief that I was rendered incapable of looking him in the eye for no fewer than three days. You mustn't think that I'm such a goody goody. I've had my crazy days.

What the future has in store for us I cannot tell. I can only hope that it's a better one than we can imagine. That even as the threads of our lives fray and come undone; even when all the shit in the world hits the proverbial fan, we'll find a large enough umbrella to shield us from the chaos.

Happy Present and Future Days,
Afam