Eventing: The House of Tara Centro Mall Store launch (featuring Bez, Toke Makinwa, and Chef Fregz)

11:51:00
I'm feeling a wee bit manic at the minute. Yes, manic is the right word. I feel like if I do not get this blog out I shall be vanquished by the weight of my duty to the lot of you to inform you of my adventures as a professional event goer. Yes, my friends, my foes, my famzers, I am an event whore. Show me the champagne and I'm down. That sounds like a good catch phrase doesn't it? SHOW ME THE CHAMPERS!!!! Those of you who do not know me very well, are undoubtedly confused. You're thinking, "but how could this young man be declaring himself an event whore?!!!! Is he alright?" I'll answer that one for free. No. I'm not alright. I am Afam. I will never be alright. I am superior. When I decided to become quite serious about blogging, I forsook whatever qualms I had about getting my name out there. As the Nigerian public seems to be enamoured with these parties that they almost never know about, I Afam, the charitable, the handsome, have deemed it wise to tell you beautiful people, what tha what happened at the events I manage to sneak myself into.


So Famzers are you ready to follow me to the wonderful wonderful world of Tara? It doesn't matter because whether you like it or not that's where you're going. Now you're thinking, who the who is Tara? I mean who is Tara! You see, I didn't know myself as I stalked the corridors of that new Shopping mall, Centro, taking pictures of the attendees of the event. It wasn't until I was about to leave that I stumbled upon her in the flesh and demanded that she place a big fat smooch on my cheek because she's pretty and I like to be kissed by pretty people. The funny thing is, I didn't know who she was when I asked her to bless me with her lips. Now she shall never forget me, and I in turn shall never forget her. Sorry Tara, I've blown our cover. When your husband reads this, he shall come for me with a machete, and I shall allow myself to be smitten because I'm a polite honourable fellow.

And that's me, at the event, with lipstick on my cheek. 
On a more serious note, Tara Fela-Durotoye is the CEO of House of Tara International, a beauty and skin care consulting firm, with their own range of products that aims to become (and probably already is) a household name amongst Nigerian women and thereafter the women of West Africa. Tara's won a fantastic number of awards including Entrepreneur of the year at the Future awards, and the 1st Lady award for Women empowerment. She's pretty interesting no? If you'd like to read more about her, then please, make your way to wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tara_Fela-Durotoye) and the House of Tara Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/houseoftarainternational/info).

Some of you are wondering why I devoted three paragraphs to explaining things, instead of just going straight to the pictures. It's because I'm a broke writer with trust issues. This means two things:

  • I cannot afford the photographers I trust to take pictures the way I want them to be taken, so I take them myself. 
  • The words are the bigger and more important part of my market. I am a writer. If there were no words in this blog post I would be a self saboteur. This is me strutting my stuff. Just because it's chatty and Sawa sawa sawa le, don't think I can't use words like facetious, and polynomial, and crinkum-crankum because I can. However, I was taught that good writers aren't meant to lord their skill at using thesauruses over the rest of humanity. If the sentence doesn't require it, I shan't bother. 
It's also because if you can't stomach three paragraphs then I do not want you here. GO AWAY! I'm not a free for all. I am exclusive like DJ Exclusive. Har Har Har Har Har. Why aren't you laughing? Laugh! I command you! 

I'm sorry about that last paragraph, but writing it made me laugh. :-)

Now that all of that's done, let us breach the palisade of preamble and saunter on into the matter at hand; the what the what went down when the House of Tara opened their new make up studio in Centro mall Lekki. 

Yes. That's the one. I took those pictures yesterday. You see, on the day of the event (Sunday... 2 days ago) I forgot myself, and I didn't pictures of the store. Some of you probably don't see the harm in this, but think about it. I went to a store opening and didn't take any pictures of the store that was opening. Bad Afam!! 

Now you get to see how good I am at general knowledge that I don't really need. If you were in doubt, I'll clarify. I do not own any make up. I'm not opposed to its use if it's necessary, but as my facial craw craws seem to be receding, I'm perfectly confident rocking my face au naturale. I do however need some contouring for my stomach. The abs are leaving me, and I'm too lazy to work out properly. 

This is foundation no? 
And this is lipstick. I'm not half bad at this photography thing you know? 

A general view of the store.
This was on the day of the event. The model's getting her eyebrows shaped by a make up artist. I need not tell you that the model is Nigerian. That would be stating the obvious. Look at how she's looking at the make up artist handling the razor blade. She's one step away from bitch slapping her if things should go afoul. Luckily or unluckily, there was no Real Housewives of Atlanta realness at the event. The make up artists in Tara's employ are really rather good. 
And now for the who the who, went there. 

I'll begin with a bang.

This, my friends, is Imoteda. Her smile is stunning. She wasn't really keen on the idea of me hanging about to take her picture, so I told absolutely filthy jokes until she cracked up. You've got to love people with a sense of humour. They're just so... so... so... incredible. Anyway, the word on the wind is she's going to be the host of a television show quite soon. I'm not sure which one it is, but I hope fervently that it's a cooking one. Contagious smiles like this and food go together. Her smile reminds me of how I smiled the last time I ate Ogbono soup with rice and dodo (fried plantain).  
This Sistuh was trying to ignore and avoid me. She was unsuccessful. I GATS THE PISHO!!! I quite like what she's wearing here. It's simple. I especially like the skirt of the dress. There's just something about pleats that makes me smile. There's really nothing more coquettish than a pleated skirt.
Check out braided sistuh on the left! How pretty is she? It's a pretty girl in a pretty flowy dress that could do with a little bit of an iron. Those shoes look incredibly uncomfortable though.  

This Imoteda, literally made my day. I asked her to pose for me and this is what she did. Can you imagine? It is quite bold. This one obviously doesn't really give a damn about what you think of her. She's going to have her fun, whether you like it or not. I like what she's wearing. The pink dress is pretty. The tights make it more dressy, and the heels are stripper-esque. What's not to love?

Yasss! The lady in the blue is doing it for me. If she were maybe 7 years or so younger, I'd hit on that. She looks like wifey material, if she isn't already someone's wife. This is how I'll get myself into trouble. I suffer from an intense case of foot in  mouth syndrome. Some people think that all of my muchness is reserved for when I'm banging away on Mama Afam's MacBook Pro keyboard. It isn't. I'm a tyrant. I have no social skills. 

This my friends is Ebisan. I wasn't looking at the floor when I asked her to pose, but I should have. I made her stand in the most wretched spot!! She's pretty little songstress this one. I'll give her a google, when I'm done with this. I love her sandals, but I'm not a fan of the rest of it. The skirt looks heavy, and the peplum top is rather unflattering. It cuts off her lovely figure in the most wretched place. 
For some reason I findd Lamide Akintobi so precious. She's such a darling isn't she? She's tiny and she's wearing an easy wrap dress. The only thing I could possibly suggest, would be that she dispose of the camisole underneath it next time. More and more cleavage in this case, makes everyone feel good. She just looks so clean!! I was refreshed by her. 

This one gets it! Ah! The dress! Gbosa. It's like a floral tie die fusion. It's gorgeous. I love how the flowers are placed. Yes! She is a winner. She's not the winner, but she's certainly a strong contender. Women! Follow her! I beg of you! Some of you don't have a clue. Beg her picture. I said BEG HER PICTURE to allow HER AWESOME DRESS PICKING skill to jump out of the picture and help you. I love the shoes too. 

Here we've got  Linda Ejiofor, and Adeyemi who's my buddy. We got smashed at a Reloaded magazine party... ps Mama Afam is giving the cook, Caderrouse a hard time as I write this. It seems he soaked some of our table linens for three days! :-0.
Yes, where was I? I am of the firm belief that you are best able to discern the true nature of a man's character when you're both well on your way to getting absolutely roaring drunk. Having said that! Papa afar, it was this man's fault that I turned up to that compulsory family dinner a little bit worse for wear. Adeyemi's pretty chilled here. He looks decent. He didn't try, so I shan't try either. NEXT.
Linda didn't try very hard either but she didn't need to.

I like her make up I think. I mean, I like her face, but in this day and age, can you compliment a face without complimenting the hand that applied the make up,] and the quality of the products used? I don't think so. Also, is that an iPad case or a bag because I super can't tell. I do like her white heels though. I like it. I'm not in love with it. It'll do.  

The one on the left is a blogger and the one on the right is a beauty person. Can't you tell? The one on the left is  Reme Ezeka, and the one on the right put her name down as jagabeauty... Can you tell that the fact that she put her name down as java beauty makes me a little miffed? Anyway, they were both perfectly alright in person. Jaga Beauty is more successful clothed than her friend. It's simple and somewhat chic. It could have done without the chain, or with a different chain. It could also have done with the undoing of an extra button. Skin is sexy. I'm not really a fan of Rema's green blazer. It reminds me of a gangrenous body part. I want to amputate it. I do have to say that it's probably only achieving that effect because of what it's paired with. She's got her own style, and that's brilliant. I like the dress and the shoes and the hair, but guru needs a different camera bag. Actually, maybe I'm just being a hater. The green blazer can stay. 


... She's a delight this one. I don't need to tell you that she wasn't faking that smile. She's stunning! Oh My God! I can't contain myself. This is priceless. It isn't a Facebook smile, it's a completely natural smile. I like it when people smile at me like this, it shows confidence. She's the winner of the day. It's obvious that she's stolen my heart. I do quite like what she's wearing but in all honesty she could have been wearing a sack and I would still be raving about it. When you appear to be having that much fun, there isn't anything you can't pull off.

Here we've got Toke Makinwa and Oyinda. Toke looks nice enough. She looks way better than she did the last time my lens captured her. The ensemble suits her figure nicely. I think the bag's a versace one. Oyinda looks nice too. It's missing something though. 

The lady in black didn't want me to take her photograph but as you can see I ignored her. Let me spell it out for you. If. you. come. to. an. event. that. you. know. will. be. covered. by. the. press. and. declare. that. they. must. not. take. your. photograph. you. are. crazy. This is obviously a case of the lady doth protest to much. I took her no as a yes, and snapped away anyway. She looks like she's got bad posture, and her weave is too long and these things do not compliment the nicest dress. 

The way this is styled makes me mad. This dress did not need that belt. This dress did not need those shoes. This dress is not particularly an eventing dress. This dress is more of a holiday dress. It is just so wrong. I mean who is her stylist? There is such a thing as overkill you know. This is why it is important to edit. EDIT!! EDIT! EDIT. I don't know why but it's annoying me. 
This is a Wana Sambo dress that's similar to the one Elma Godwin's wearing in the picture above. This is how it should be styled. This is how dresses of the sort should be worn. Simplicity is always and everywhere preferable to excess. Less is always more!

Guys girls, and everything else in between, behold the reigning most beautiful girl in Nigeria, Anna Ebiere Banner. Someborry please clap for her and her stylist. I want to sing Wizkid's entire discography to her. She's my sister Caro and she's just pulled over!!! Ay Ay Ay Ay Ay E give it to me fine gurr! I don't know who sang that one. If you know please tell me. Okay I'll behave myself now. On a side note, is it me or are her feet markedly darker than the rest of her. It could be the lighting though… Or it could be that she walks about with her feet exposed, and the rest of her body enshrouded. 

This hunny gets it too. I can't remember her name, but she's a hottie. And even better than that, she's a well dressed hottie. It's the perfectly appropriate thing to wear for early Sunday evening. Her hair and make up's good too. 

And here we've got Chef Fregz. I shan't say anything nasty about him because he's a chef, and he does catering for a lot of the events I whore myself at to. If I said something unflattering, his food and I may grow suspiciously incompatible. Luckily, there's nothing too wrong with this. I know the belt and the shoes don't match but it's still alright somehow. It says Sunday afternoon, not I'm coming from the office, which is what you want. 

I just had to ya kno? These things make me cry. I mean this woman's wearing what it'll cost to fix my new laptop and the price of one camera lens I've been eyeing on her arm. It's vexing. It's supremely vexing. 

And then the same lady had the audacity to wear those red bottoms. I am offended. Here I am, in my corner, broke and illiquid and there she is wearing her wealth on a sling. Pah. It means nothing. I'm just being dramatic. 

I love this Re Bahia dress. Elma! This is how tunics should be worn! Can you imagine what this would look like if it were belted? I would have vomited. Luckily Onyinye knows a thing or two about clothes so she didn't make that error. Love. I'm sorry that these things are getting shorter but I'm tired. Anyway it's simple and it's great, and she's great, so everyone's happy. Yay me.

And this is Orire Omatsola, my Godsister, wearing a Re Bahia dress. You must remember that when pronouncing Re Bahia, the h is silent. So it's really not pronounced Re BaHia. It's pronounced RE BAYIA. The I is very very soft. I'm just trying to help you. Anyway we're God siblings because we've got the same God mum. I don't know why I mentioned that. Is that too much information? I like it lots and lots. You need that dress in your closet. It's age appropriate and flattering. It also moves incredibly well!!

This is sistuh Kiki. She's fierce like fire and hot like Dbanj's Amala. I do not doubt that she's wearing one of her own designs (Kiki Kamanu), and it's brilliant. I like that she doesn't dress like everyone else. It's a new modern take on the iro and buba, and it does wonders for her figure. It will probably do wonders for yours as well. Show me a woman who doesn't have curves when wearing iro and buba and I will show you an asylum. ps. All women have curves in iro and buba

Hell famzers. Meet Ezinne Alfa. I want to put her in a cup cake. I don't know why this is, but she's got a vibe that needs to be in a cupcake and eaten. That's it. I'm going to become a baker. I'll call it the Alfa cupcake. It'll be purple on the bottom with cream cheese icing on top. It'll be great. If you steal my business idea, I KILL YOU. The shorts are from Virgos lounge, and there she's smiling for me, me and me alone. She's not smiling at you. No it's all about me. Me. Me. Me. I think she's flirting with me. Ezinne, doyouwannagotoWhisperingPalmswithme? If you know her, and she sees this. I KILL YOU. You're meant to help me sell my market. I'm not helping myself here, so I expect the lot of you to help me. Oh yeah! The shorts are from/by viragos lounge.

Now this bunny is lost. Can't you tell? She's like, "Where da club at?" It's a typical nollywood dress. It's the sort of dress they'll have you believe the bad girls wear to their lectures. In my opinion dresses like this should only be worn between 11pm and 5am. They're not to be seen in day light. 

I'm just going to call it. Dark skinned sistuh how is it that you have not succumbed to the peer pressure. Everyone on that table is kind of artificially yellow, so I called it the bleaching table. I don't mind bleaching really. Whatever makes you happy no? Team light skinned by force. 

This pretty Shalewa is wearing a dress that she and her tailor knocked together. Nigerian designers feel ACHAMED. Some of you can get it less than this bespoke haute tailor couture. Yes, I judge you harshly, but is it too much for me to expect you to be a little bit good at your job? 

Yeah. That's your home boi and Bez. At the time, I was thinking, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!!!!!" But I contained myself and smiled my mischievous but incredibly endearing sexy smile. 


Bez performed at the event, and there are three pictures of me and him in a row, because it's my blog, and I'm more important than the rest of them. Take AM!!!!!
Happy Days,
Afam

If you like the way I do things drop me an email. If you'd like to give your client some great PR, look for my drop me an email. And if you sponsor an event, and you'd like some coverage that sees things your way, again, drop me an email. afam.a.o@hotmail.com

Also, all pictures, though not watermarked are mine. They may not be copied, or reposted without my permission, and that usually incurs a fee. 


Induction by Toyosi Faridah Kekere-Ekun

19:06:00



Toyosi Faridah Kekere-Ekun’s Induction is poignant and evocative. It’s a ménage of twenty monochrome images, which feature an often nude female model, who is occasionally joined by a less nude male counterpart. Kekere-Ekun describes the collection as her introduction to the realities of existence. This implies a new understanding of the human experience. It is a somewhat personal display as it draws directly from her own experiences, and as such it isn’t surprising that it is literal and obvious in partsHowever, these are the very things that give it strength. If the images were completely shrouded in metaphors and allusions, then we would all be lost, interpreting meaning where there was none, and imagining feelings that were not felt during their creation. The fact that they’re presented so bluntly lends them a commonality, and a relatability that many similar art forms lack.  

The induction illustrated here is Kekere-Ekun’s journey from adolescence to adulthood. It is the photographic equivalent of a coming of age story on par with J.D Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye. Instead of words to compel you to feel, you have muted tones, tense moments, and pixelated representations of emotion. And they are successful at this. When you look at the images, you do not see one woman’s struggle with life, you see your own. Her work is a blank canvas that you may paint yourself upon, but this is not all that it offers. The images are all stunningKekere-Ekun manages to pack a great deal of meaning into each photograph without losing that which makes them aesthetically pleasing and worthy of display in your office or lounge. Furthermore her use of controlled lighting, double exposures and multiple flashes, lends the collection a glimmer of technical mastery that does not go amiss. They completely abase the impression that she’s a pretty little ingénue who’s been allowed to run amok with a camera. Induction puts her firmly in line to succeed, and perhaps one day exceed the masters in her field.  

As I mentioned in the first paragraphthe female model used is mostly in the nude. However, it must be said that her nakedness is neither obvious, nor sexual nor vulgar. Rather than offend, her nudity only goes to further illustrate our intrinsic vulnerability as human beings. The progression of the images illustrates a clarity that can only be gained by Kekere-Ekun’s definition of Induction. The story it tells promises no redemption, or relief at the end of an existential crisis, or particularly trying time. It isn’t a fairy tale. Instead of saying, and they lived happily ever after, it says, “and life went on, but they lived with a new and perhaps improved understanding of events.” And even though the majority of the events that inspired the exhibition happened in France, while Kekere-Ekun was at the Speos Institute, it remains a Nigerian story and this makes it doubly precious.  

At the heart of Induction is a tale of a love that does not last. The image you see above is a part of that narrative. Their relationship has been reduced to a business meeting conducted over an impossibly long table. One party sees the glass as half full, and the other party sees it as half empty - the end is nigh. It is difficult to believe that it is Kekere-Ekun’s first exhibition for it flaunts a discipline that is usually taught by trial and error. The only thing that betrays her youth is the freshness with which she tells the familiar story of the path to adulthood.  

Happy days,
Afam

The photographs will be at the Omenka art gallery until the seventh of March. The Omenka art gallery can be found at Number 24 Ikoyi (Modupe Alakija) crescent. They're open between 9am and 6pm on Weekdays, and 10am and 6pm on the Weekend. 

Phone number: +2348184553331
Email Address: info@omenkagallery.com

Originally published in the Guardian Life magazine


On Wiz Kid's On Top Your Matter (Bread Review)

07:10:00
Hey Famzers! How you doing? I know that it's uncommon for me to be so prolific, but my dog died, so bear with me. I'm throwing all that ennui into the blog, and its betterment. And as I took a ten day vacay in the middle of February, views are down, and my blood pressure's up. So come one! Come all! I'm back and I'm taking prisoners. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the competitive aspect of blogging and writing didn't turn me on. And I am very much turned on. Whenever I see someone, more popular than I, I get a little bit angry because there shouldn't be anyone, more popular than I; my tender heart tends to start to bleed. When someone's beating me silly at the blogging game, I see that I need to up my err'thang game and kill them dead. And as per usual, the opening paragraph isn't an opening paragraph at all. I'd think you'd be tired of this sort of writing by now, but you aren't, and for that I am eternally grateful.

The more devoted amongst you will undoubtedly recall that while I was in Edo cultural dancing my life away, I brought in a guest blogger to keep you fickle famzers from straying. This amazing totes amazeballs guest blogger (Olaisblogging), created something so brilliant that even after he's gone and got a job, I am inclined to continue his good work. So without further ado, I present to you the second bread review on the ramblings of a madman by Afam.

You've got to remember that I occasionally feel the need to name drop my good old blog, inside my good old blog, so that when you people google The Ramblings of a Madman, I Afam, the Rambling madman, am the only thing that comes up. 




I must admit that I'm a more than a little bit biased where this song is concerned because I spent a great deal of my time in Edo State (NYSC camp) dancing to it. Yes! It was what I was sashaying to when I tore up the mammy market in that god awful leaf skirt that left nothing to the imagination (you mustn't think that I mind leaving nothing to the imagination. I'm selling my market one awkward body part at a time) 

Yeah! That's the skirt. What can I say? Medicine man chic?
 The song starts with the lyrics, "I fit die on top your matter eeeeeeeeeeeeeeey baby oh!" You have to admit that it's a lovely sentiment even if it is more than a little bit dishonest. Chances are you won't die for the person that you're thinking of when the song is playing. But we must forgive his youthful idealism because he is young and because his face is the freshest face I have ever seen. His skin is like a baby's bottom pre-heatrash. His face has probably never sprouted a pimple and at 23 he remains suspiciously devoid of a beard.

The song continues with the lines, "baby girl!! God bless your mother eeeeeeeeeeeeey baby oh! you too fine pass mammy water eeeeeeeeeeeey baby oh!" That bit of it made me laugh. It's got a great sense of humour. Yeah why not tell the woman of your dreams that she's hotter than a she beast that lives only to seduce men and carry them away to unheard of underwater kingdoms eh? She'll take it in her stride. She'll smile at you and tell you that you're more important to her than her morning shit. LIES!! She will go to her room and cry like my best friend Wonwon did when Royodeboyo told her that she was sweeter than fried meat.

ps! I don't know that she actually cried, but I do know that the compliment caused her far more grief than any insult. 

After begging God to bless every member in the girls family, Wizkid goes on to explain that love isn't selfless or kind or unconditional, it's largely dependent on reciprocity.

"love me make I love you baby oh"

But we can't judge him too harshly for that because he proves that he doesn't support rape and sexual violence in the next line.

"kiss me make I kiss you"

If you follow this advice, you shall never be guilty of any impropriety.

All of that lyrical floury goodness is carried by a yeasty beat so effervescent that one cannot listen to it without being blessed with a hint of happiness. Like most Nigerian bread it's more than a little bit on the sweet side. And like all sweet things it can only be endured in small doses. The song suffers from a nasty case of diminishing breadness, where your enjoyment of the baked product diminishes with every bite. It doesn't become unbearable until the second verse by which time even the most staunch Wizkid supporter slams his head into the floor and screams, "WHEN WILL THE BLOODY SONG END?" or delivers a life ending slap to the music playing device.

In conclusion, the song features crumby and crummy lyrics super imposed on a spectacular beat produced by Del B. The beat, and Wizkid's whiny vocal embellishments save the song the way shitty bread needs more nutella than bread to be edible. The song is the musical equivalent of factory produced agege bread, and while this certainly suffices when one is in need of a bout of constipatition and some nostalgia, it is not healthy. As a result of this it gets three loaves out of a possible five.

Happy Days,
Afam





Studio of Modé presents Collection 2014: The Most Interesting Skins and Hard Cases I've ever seen.

14:56:00
With regards this blurb, I could share the pictures with you and that would enough. There are pictures that do not require words to explain them. Such are the pictures from this look book of sorts. It's a collection of skins and hard cases for the devices that have become such fundamental parts of our modern existence; the macbook pros and the macbook airs, and the Samsung galaxies and the iPhones, and the iPads, and the iPad minis.












The images were shot by Toyosi Faridah Kekere-Ekun who seems to be making great strides as a fashion photographer. Her first solo exhibition, Induction, opened at the Omenka gallery (number 24 Ikoyi Crescent) and will run until the 7th of March.. If you would love to go, but you'd hate to go alone, then hit me up. I could always do with the company, and you could always do with more of me. Her understanding of negative space leaves nothing to be desired. 

You may purchase them online here: http://www.studioofmode.bigcartel.com

And they are stocked at Terra Culture as well.

While all of that is true, you'd do well to visit their website: http://studioofmode.tumblr.com


Happy Days,
Afam

But What the What is Sanusi-gate

08:19:00
Hello famzers. Yes, I call those of you who read my blog my famzers, because you are for all intents and purposes mine, just as I am yours. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. I'm occasionally funny, and you're occasionally nice enough to let me know how funny I am.

By now you must all have heard about the distinct tragedy that has befallen the great Lamido Sanusi, who has managed the Nigerian Banking Sector so 'well' the past four years. If you haven't I'll give you the long and short of it. $20 billion dollars of oil revenue have gone on holiday from the Country's accounts. Upon noticing that over a billion dollars of oil money had been leaving the country every month between January 2012 and July 2013, Mr Sanusi became quite perplexed. He looked for the money everywhere, and by everywhere, I mean everywhere. Do you know what it feels like to lose $20 billion dollars? No? Well I don't either, but I know what it feels like to lose a car.

One day, my Uncle parked his Mitsubushi Lancer, on a quite well lit street in Yaba. I cannot remember what he was going to do there, for those memories have been stolen from me by the she-beast that is time. Anyway, after he went to do whatever it is he went to Yaba to do he returned to the spot where he parked his car to find only pavement. Would you believe that he looked for the car inside the gutters? I tell you most sincerely, human beings are truly incredible.

Let's get back to the matter shall we?

When Mr Sanusi, noticed that all those billions had slipped away from underneath his watch he cried out in a very loud voice, "WHERE THE HELL IS THA MONEY." The Nigerian National Petroleum Coroporation wasted no time in throwing the good chap under the proverbial mountain. They said, "Mr Sanusi is a crazy person. As he is mental, he is a flawed narrator." And then the president who is probably also a raging alcoholic (even if he isn't, he should seek medical attention because he displays all of the characteristics of one) suspended him. The end. Not…

But all of that isn't what this post is about. This post is about why some Nigerian people, have taken it upon themselves, to label the incident Sanusi-gate. Are you a little bit daft? The only thing that is gate about Sanusi is that his very big house somewhere in Nigeria has a gate. Please don't bring American terms and apply them to our politics. Watergate was watergate, and it is fine to affix the suffix gate, to any Scandal that happens in those lovely United, but un-united states, but please for the love of God and all things both Holy and Unholy do not bring that home. When you're talking to your market woman and you say, "Oh! did you hear about that chap Sanusi and his Sanusi-gate" do you feel clever or monumentally stupid? I know you'll be feeling clever with yourself, but evaluate the situation and check your damned self.

We out!

Happy Days,
Afam


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