An Explanation

10:36:00


 A friend asked me to take a good long look at the mirror. I have a sneaky suspicion that it should be “long good look” not “good long look” but that’s neither here nor there. Why he said it is also inconsequential, the only thing about it that matters is that he said it and it stuck. It is the trigger that inspired this unwilling explanation. 

I do not find mirrors particularly useful. They show you how you look and can stoke the fires of your vanity or self loathing; but whatever it is, what they show is merely only skin deep. Writing, on the other hand is a different thing entirely. When I write about myself, only the semantics can be adjusted. The who, the where, the when, all endlessly manipulatable. I alter them at will. The same is not true of the what and the why. The what: a statement of fact that this happened and that happened, rigid. The why: endless introspection about motives, mine or someone else’s. Always and everywhere incomparably deeper than I am willing to venture. 

Over the past year, many things have changed, and as regrettably cliche as this may read, nothing has changed. I read my journals from when I was 13, 17, 19, 22, and I am the same. The things I fear and the things I hope for, unchanged. The only difference is where I stand in relation to them.  If you talk about the concrete plan, the vast network of roads I may take to the final destination, then I am well on my way. I am a journalist not by a stretch of the imagination, or by some stranger’s estimation of my blog or talent. I have a degree that says so, and then there’s the job with CNBC Africa, the year I’ve spent without leave or many a sick day, reporting, writing, producing, tweeting and sometimes anchoring Africa’s business story. No amount of pity partying with demons, old or new could ever change this. I do, so therefore I am. 

If I wanted to take the easy way out, I’d say, “all of this journalisting is so intense that I simply have no time to write anything.” You would buy it without pause for thought, but there’d be no point. I do not write to deceive or to spin. If my motives were so shallow I’d stay silent and spare us both the agony. Are you tired yet? It is hard, is it not? To read 418 words at a stretch. 

The breadth of my contract took a while to sink in. I signed it straight away in spite of it; but the liberties I signed away stayed with me. How do I keep a blog called the Ramblings of a Madman and not somehow find myself in breach? What if I want to rant about a certain Company, but that Company’s a client or a potential client? There are clauses that require I seek permission before I embark on a project, and then there are some corners of the media world that I cannot venture into. 

I counted the days, the weeks and the months. On some days I’d blast out 300 words then delete them.Words once familiar seemed strange and then the you’re not any good demon and I started kicking it again. At that point I was damned. Even if I found the time and the presence of mind, whatever I managed to write wouldn’t be good enough. 

There was a bubbling, something underneath saying that happiness or at least my version of it isn’t what I thought it was. It isn’t the glittering fleeting feeling you get when you’re with friends, or when the thing you get when your now is infinite and it isn’t having a lot of money. It is climbing the rungs of a ladder one foot after the other, ensuring that at every stage of your journey, you’re at least a half step higher than where you were - a fraction closer to the dream. There’s a difference between happy in life and happy in now. Having both of them simultaneously would be amazing, ideal. But if I had to choose, I’d much rather have the former. 


I have taken a look in the mirror and I do not always like what I see. I am a journalist. I produce my show, or my shows, regardless of the day, or my mood, or the shit that happened the day before. I like this part of my reflection. The writer in me has not enjoyed the same growth. I do not like this part of my reflection. If only I was born fully formed, all good and wise and not at all reckless and occasionally foolish. If only I made no mistakes and crashed less cars. If only… If only… If only… But one foot ahead of the other, one step on the rung at a time. One word ahead of the other, one sentence at a time. 
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A Trump Short

09:13:00


There is a lot about life that is beautiful. It’s the conversations that we hear, and the stories that we tell and how different they are. There are bursts of colour, unpredictable and commanding. There are the moments that we’d rather not remember, shaping us to ends that we cannot see. All of us subscribing to a higher purpose, or agenda. Not all of these are good, but there is a beauty to them all the same. The depths of depravity, the height of goodness, our uncute faces cute to me. 

When the man they call Teflon Trump was elected and then inaugurated, I remembered the terrifying pain of a broken heart. There was a world I was supposed to be in love with that I discovered didn’t love me. You can tell me why he won, and you can tell me how. Reductions of the absurd in the most academic prose. You can write of the anger the disenfranchised feel and you can proselytise the tales of the disillusioned. But there are two things you cannot do. You cannot convince me that he was deserving, and you cannot fool me into thinking that his win is good.

I read an essay once. It was so long ago that I can no longer remember who wrote it, but like all great essays, the meat of it remains. It was the story of a man who lost all faith in God, and replaced the vacuum with a profound belief in nothing. Things stayed that way until he had children. Not knowing how to instil in them the values he knew to be good, he took them to church that they could learn what he learned when he was just as young. The merit of hard work and honesty; the power of love; the meaning of forgiveness; the difference between what is right and wrong; the strength to aspire to do what is right; and the empathy to not judge too harshly the people who do wrong. These were the values I grew up with, and they are the same ones I will teach my children, even if they have now become relics. 

Villains are not scarce when history is concerned, but you could search the list and you’ll be hard pressed to find a man like Trump. Since he’s been given the spotlight he has never once taken the higher road, even when it has been easy. A tweet, a passing comment, a well timed dig, all performed to perfection as long as a win was within reach. Hand delivering pain and confusion when all but the insane would know to stay silent. And God how he lies. With frequency, with mania, with urgency, and utterly without point. 

People question his motives and theorise them. Maybe they think what I think; that he’s a man so desperate for love, affection, and attention that there’s no length he won’t go to for one of the three. He will break the world for no point but to be the one that broke it. Devil or Saint, he’ll take what he can get. But anyway you look at it, it’s a Trump world and the Trump is king. Racists applaud him and supremacists bow at his feet. He is a walking miasma of ire, and maybe that’s why he’s there. When things break subtly and imperceptibly it is difficult to know they are broken, and if we don’t know they are broken then they can’t be fixed. 

So to Trump I say, “Go ahead and break the world. Expose the fault lines of prejudice and show us the cost of failure.” After him, there’ll be another. It’s the way of life that nothing lasts forever. When he is done, we will fix it, and it’ll be a better world than the one he saw the White House in. 

There is a lot about life that is beautiful. It’s how we grow, and how we change and how we hope. We struggle and we fail and we learn. Sometimes we seem like the frailest beings, but when we triumph over our weakness it’s pretty damn fantastic.

Happy Days,
Afam


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On Religion...

15:06:00
by Eskor Toyo


We must treasure the moments we have while we have them. While musing on the topic of Religion yesterday a sober thought struck me — what if it’s all untrue? It’s a difficult question to ask yourself. As a Christian, or more accurately, as someone brought up in the Christian religious tradition, you are taught that God is the universe and humans are at the centre. This theist centrism is not a metaphorical one, we Christians sincerely believe (most of the time) that we matter to God and that God matters to the universe — therefore what we do, think, and say are matters of universal importance (especially when judged through the lens of ‘God’[1]). Often, I am taken by the thought that this centrist paradigm feeds arrogance and self-importance in men; the fuel that ignites the flames of vanity.
By placing the individual at the centre of all creation we create justifications for our excesses because after all, all creation — even the birds, the trees, the sun, and the planets that litter the vast endlessness of our spangled universe — was made for the singular purpose of enabling humans transit between here and the hereafter. Isn’t this a dangerous morality? Is it surprising that what follows from this logic is a philosophy that obsesses about things unseen and remains ignorant of the present human condition? Is it not this ignorance, induced by our self-obsession, that is at the core of all suffering on earth?
As a Nigerian, this centrism is even more literal. It is the framework through which we relate to the stark world that surrounds us and how we make sense of the lives we live. My view is that our willingness to follow bad leaders and to live in blissful ignorance about the sorry state of our country stems from being socialized at an early age in religious (and cultural) traditions that inculcate a blind and unquestioning obedience to authority. Nonetheless, these words, these thoughts, are the privilege of my status. What does my philosophy matter to the poor man? What does my empathy profit him? Does it put food on the table? Who am I to tell him that he is poor? No, in fact, it probably comes across as the mindless prattling of a self-regarding elite who from Olympian heights condescends to know the experience of the poor man and what he needs. He does not know, God knows, God trusts, God provides, God decides, have faith, that is good enough.
In this sense quoting Marx’s famous words makes poignant sense — “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people. The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. To call on them to give up their illusions about their condition is to call on them to give up a condition that requires illusions.” So even while I remain a staunch critic of the religious experience, even while I revile the odious corruption of the identity of God in the self-interest of man and his politics, I am softened by the understanding that for many the devotion to religion serves as a palliative. In a world of sham, imperfections, and broken promises, it offers aspirations that are perfect and divine.
[1] The character and characterization of God by humans either through biblical interpretation or societal norms bears heavily on the religious experience.
PS: This not atheism. At most it is a critique of religious practice.
Originally published on Eskor Toyo's medium account. Which we highly recommend. He's Reforming himself while living in Lagos. 
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I skipped to My Lulu and killed my ankle but your Chairman was happy

18:26:00
There's a chune so magnificent that when I first heard it, I stood in front of my mirror shirtless and danced a very African dance. I basically shook my very tiny behind in a scandalous fashion for over 3 minutes. I wasn't drunk or anything like that. It was just that the song I was listening to was so good that I couldn't help myself.

Now some of you that are new may wonder what the jigglypuff it is that I mean by CHUNE. I'm a fairly generous guy so I'll tell you. 

A chune is a song so gloriously wonderlous (that's when wonderful meets fabulous and it doesn't happen very often) that everyone listening feels an almost irresistible compulsion to yell, "CHUNE!!!" And that's a word that really has no place in the English language. That's why you're unlikely to see it in the Oxford dictionary. 

Anyway, the song that made me shake my my very minuscule bum bum for far longer than a minuscule bum bum should ever be shaken is this one. 


It's called My Lulu and it's by District featuring Ajebutter 22. Now, I don't know a lot about District but the song is like puff puff. It's fluffy and wholesome, but also sweet and oily, and one listen is never enough. It's the same way no one ever has one puff puff in the small chops metallic pack. If you like puff puff and you eat one, before you know it the second and third are making their way to your stomach, pimples and muffin top be damned.

I forgot about it until a guy called Bolaji Fuga aka Laji tweeted about it the other day.
He's one of the people behind District. He calls himself a District creative but I don't really know what that means. I don't mind this too much because you can't really expect musicians to be normal. Before you say anything to me ask yourself if Davido is a normal person, and then keep quiet because he isn't. A normal person doesn't spend N100 million in two weeks on two cars in a recession year. It simply isn't something that a normal human being would do, and that's alright.

After I listened to it again, I was so moved that I tried to dance to it while playing a very aggressive game of squash. The chorus goes something like, "skip to my lou lou bae, omo you do me juju." Very catchy no? That's how I decided to skip to my lou and get the ball.

I did not get the ball. Instead, I skipped my ankle to its grave and ruined it.

Look at it. Ruined! 
Look at it, the ankle is just about done in. It's looking for the after life but the rest of my body is resisting the light mightily. I needed outside assistance so I hauled my well used Vulcan ankle brace out of the closet and strapped it in, that way, I could continue to skip to my Lulu with District without wondering if or when my ankle would decide to give up the ghost. Above is a picture of me listening to that song after work, wearing my strawhat and feeling pretty damn good about myself. I suggest that you do the same.

Happy Days,
Afam

I AWARD THIS SONG FIVE LOAVES OF AGEGE BREAD! 

This is me hyping a musical feature I used to do on troambyafam, we grade music out of loaves of a maximum of 5 loaves of bread or other such baked things.

Why? We aren't your typical Nigerian/Lagosian blog.



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Is Davido a Car Addict? Minor Bell ringing in head.

10:25:00
Another day, another sign that Davido is a probable car addict, compulsive shopper and recession teflon. Yesterday, the star prompted several melt downs when he bought yet another extraordinary vehicle for seemingly no reason at all. I heard a woman in the gym succumb to a bout of complaining as a result of it. 

What a legendary photograph. Standing on N83 million. If I had that much I'd build a cash altar and do thanksgiving by myself. 

This one is N33 million. That's what most people are reporting but how would I know? If I go to a Benz showroom I'll have a stroke and die. 


In the middle of her squats she wailed, “This Davido matter is really weighing heavily on my spirit. In two weeks he’s spent over N100 million on cars. Now, I’m looking at myself and I can only shake my head. What of me? Do I not work hard? I work very hard but where is the money? If it is here I can’t see it. Today, I spent N 2.2 million buying $5,000, and I felt good about myself, then I heard about Davido and I felt useless.”

All of this begs the question, how many cars does Davido actually need? If he continues at this rate he’ll have an expensive vehicle for everyday of the month! Now I don’t have any problems with this. It’s his money and he isn’t in any sort of political office. Furthermore, musicians aren’t known for their wits so we can’t expect the young man to know very much at all about a little concept called saving for a rainy day. But still, we’re in a recession and inflation is murderous. Would it kill him to chill a little?
I suppose money really is funny when you've got this many dollars. That's how his cook will be relieving him of a few notes at a time and he won't know. Old chap, won't you put it in a bank?
Another person who could do with a chill pill is Kcee. Yesterday, Linda Ikeji did the devil’s work when she posted a picture of him holding a Louis Vuitton bag bursting with dollars. Underneath the picture he said, "Shut up! I'm still making the money in bags. Keep talking while I keep balling. God is greater than we all.” He’s since deleted the picture, but it doesn’t reduce the loudness of the but why question that’s ringing in my head. I suppose this is because over the weekend a couple of charlatans smashed the window at the back of my very humble Toyota and took my hair clippers.


So please guys, I know money is sweet, but times are hard and your people are petty. CHILL!

Happy Days,
Troamteam

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Why we need to talk about mental health: Inspired by Tee Billz. Brought home by Niyi Okeowo

16:23:00

Before I started this article, I wondered for a second, if I had exhausted the topic of mental health. I have written about it more than once but sometimes I fear I write about it too much. It’s something that I lived, and it’s a question I ask myself all the time, but it isn’t everything. It barely scratches the surface. The one thing I’d hate to happen as a result is if depressed became my adjective. That would kill me. 

Sometimes I fear that it slips out unbidden, and while I may be fine with glueing shells to my man boobs and galavanting around the beach, I’m incredibly uncomfortable sharing my more painful moments. The way I see it, I’m supposed to be good always; happy always. I have always believed that that is my best self. When I’m not, I say that I am anyway with all hope that it will one day be true. And this is part of the problem. I am ashamed. I know that it’s an illness, and I know there’s nothing to be ashamed about but the shame lives on. 

Yesterday, Tee Billz, Tiwa Savage’s something or the other put up a picture of Kerry Washington with a quote that she’d made. It said, “My brain and my heart are really important to me. I don’t know why I wouldn’t seek help to have those things as healthy as my teeth. I go to the dentist. So why wouldn’t I go to a shrink?” It’s apt coming from Tee Billz. A little while ago he was on the side of a bridge in Lagos thinking about or trying to jump. Since then it’s been reported that he has received some sort of help. Underneath the picture he said, “If you can seek help for malaria and fever, don’t be ashamed about your psychological and emotional condition! Why are we so afraid to discuss mental health in our society?” That question is one that’s definitely worth asking. 

You can get tired of your own words and your own actions. Sometimes I feel like I’ve talked so much about depression that there’s nothing left to say and that’s usually when Niyi Okeowo, a creative genius in Lagos comes along with a quote or a retweet that raises awareness about mental health. When that happens, I think, “I may not have enough energy for another sentence, but I’ve certainly got enough to click the button that says retweet.” 

I hit him up on twitter with two questions: why he raises awareness about mental health on twitter and why he thinks it’s important that others do the same. Here’s what he had to say. 

I think mental health awareness is really important. Most Nigerian’s either don’t understand what it is or think it’s got something to do with being mad. There are a lot of kids, youths, and adults that have these issues but don’t know how to identify them. Apparently this generation thinks it’s lame to talk about your feelings. You have people that can’t even express themselves properly for fear of how they’ll be percieved by twitter. 

I do it because it’s really needed. Someone needs to talk about it. You hear of a lot of people committing suicide and we don’t know why. There’s this ignorant statement I’ve heard, “only white people commit suicide.” Just talking about it does two things for me. Firstly it helps me overcome my own demons and then it helps someone else overcome theirs. If we all really said how we felt… we’d probably be happier. We wouldn’t have so much to hide. But it’s the new age… Everybody wants to be perfect, no flaws… That’s the illusion of social media; everyone’s life is perfect. 

But it’s really the opposite. It’s okay to be broken as long as you find your way out of it. The moment people can see that its okay to have flaws is the point that people begin to understand why it’s important to talk about mental health. 

And then, it’s very important that those who understand it a little talk about it. When they do they’re doing a good thing. Mental health education is important. If I talk about it today, someone else feels the need to continue the wave and decides to talk about it tomorrow. Before you know it everyone’s talking about it. Everybody is learning. Everybody understands the dangers of not talking about it; the stigma and every other thing that involves mental health . The more hands come together to talk about it, the more we create awareness. This is how movements start. One person sparks the movement and the rest follow through. 

I know I delete my tweets every now and then. I could tweet about mental health today and the next month I've deleted my tweets, but, I’m trying to use art to tackle mental health. Exhibitions. Music. Literature. Any art form. Just bringing all of these art forms together under one umbrella to talk and tackle mental health issues. But yeah… It’s super important that we all talk about it. It’s the only way we can educate ourselves. The government either doesn’t care about or understand mental health. All we have is each other to be honest. 

Happy Days,
Afam


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A Troam Team Discussion about the Girls on a Leash

20:10:00
Afam: This is so strange. My jaw's literally on the floor right now. I can't wrap my head around it.


Troamteam: Who's that?

Afam: It's a god dog alien man called Pretty Mike. His real name is Michael Nwalie and he owns a night club. 

Avenger: Where's this night club?

Afam: The Premium Times says it's Club Uno which was once called Q Club on Allen Avenue (It's a street/district in Lagos). 

Avenger: Is this what they do there? You know? Girls on leashes and horse tail whips.

Afam: I assume so. Why else would anyone turn up to a wedding with girls on leashes? It's only excusable if the club is kink oriented and maybe not even then.

Troamteam: Is this something we should be writing about? I know it's being talked about everywhere else but is there anything new that we can add to the discussion? And even if there is, should we be part of the viral machine? He clearly wants some sort of infamy for this and we are giving it to him. 

Afam: You have a point, but here's the thing. We can't not talk about it. I'd rather have it on here where we'll have a proper discussion about it, than somewhere else where they'll just put it up and say it's wrong. It isn't enough to say that it's wrong, we have to say why.

Avenger: It's clearly odd, but I'm struggling to see why it's wrong. If they're all consenting adults then I don't think wrong is the right word to describe it. It's strange and it's inappropriate but I'm not sure that it's wrong. 

Troamteam: It's wrong because having this out there in the light of day says that it's alright for a man to put a woman on a leash, and it's not. Impressionable people will see that and think that it's normal, and it isn't. 

Avenger: But that's the point. That it doesn't seem right doesn't mean that it's wrong. I can't tell anyone how they should live. It isn't my problem and it certainly isn't my business. 

Afam: I think it's wrong because it's misogynistic. It isn't news that women the world over are treated unfairly because they're women. This is one of the most explicit representations of that fact I have ever seen. It sends the message that it's alright, and because women are already relatively disadvantaged, it isn't harmless fun.

Avenger: Would you be as offended if it was a woman holding a man on a leash? 

Troamteam: No, but that's a crazy argument. Men have always been protected by society. Forgive the cliche but male privilege is a thing that exists. Over the holidays my 3 year old niece saw me washing the dishes and said, "Uncle why are you doing the woman's work?" I had to sit and tell her that who washes the dishes isn't gender specific. She's only three but she already believes that one of the many duties she has to shoulder as she gets older is dish washing. The image of a woman being confined to a leash is infinitely more harmful than the opposite because it makes a bad situation worse!

Afam: I think it's tricky because both of those things aren't great but I think @Troamteam has a point and I'll explain. If you had a son and he called you stupid is it more harmful or less harmful if you are the one that says it to him?

Avenger: They're both wrong.

Afam: But you cannot deny that it causes more harm when you say it than when your son says it. It's the same thing with cracker and nigger. I call a white person a cracker and it's just another rude thing that people say, but when a white person calls me a nigger it isn't. By calling me that he hasn't just insulted me because I annoyed him. He's called on my history as a black person (colonisation and slavery) and he's called whatever idea I have of that to the fore. And it's painful because, and I really hate to say this, we're still not free of white supremacy. So the two are not the same. 

Avenger: Fair enough. I can see that, but what of the sexual connotations behind it. What if it turns them on.

Troamteam: If that's the case, then they should do it where it's legal to have sex, and that isn't at a wedding in full view of the public. If it's because they're getting some sort of kink out of it then at the very least it's public indecency. 

Avenger: Chances are that he's doing it for the publicity, if he is I think there's some merit to it. When have any of you done something so outrageous so that you could be successful?

Afam: That's a fair point too. And I haven't done anything so crazy that it'd blow up the internet and earn me publicity. However, I'm glad that I don't think I have to. I think I'm better than that. I genuinely believe that there should be another way to get popular than having to put two girls on a leash and parade them around a wedding the same way I might do my dogs. It's such a disrespectful thing to do and now I'm not even referencing the fact that they're female. It is disrespectful to their humanity. 

Avenger: But what if they got paid for it. 

Troamteam: I hope that they did and handsomely too. I'm really bothered by it, and maybe that's why we should talk about it. Anything that bothers me this much has to be a topic of national conversation. 

Afam: @MamaAfam what do you make of this?

MamaAfam: My problem is that I'm looking at it from a woman's angle. How do I see myself to allow someone put a leash around me and walk me like a dog? To allow a man to lead me around like a dog... How do those women see themselves? Do they not understand the message they're sending out about womanhood? Do they not understand that they're degrading the essence of womanhood? Because they were not forced! If they were forced I would understand. And for society at large the guy should be stoned. And he was fine with people taking pictures? When it's not a carnival! It is not a float. And let's not even bring up the liberal argument. In England could you go to a wedding and put two women on a leash. I don't understand it. Ko ye mi ra ra (I am confused). Are we sure that those girls are mentally okay?

Avenger: That's an important question to ask because in as much as I don't think you can tell three adults what to do when it's not expressly illegal, it is vile. And you have to think of the mental or emotional state of a woman that let a man do this to her.  

Troamteam: Is it me, or is this looking a bit like prostitution?

Afam: It's not just you, and you're not the only one that's deeply bothered. I keep holding my head and literally asking myself if this is what it means to have free will because I'm not sure that everyone should. 

Avenger: I'm going to ask you guys a question and you must answer honestly. Do you or do you not want to go to his club now?

Troamteam: I don't want any part of me to ever be associated with anything that guy stands for so the answer's no. I will not dance to the music there, and I certainly won't pay for a drink there. I will not enable him in any way. 

Afam: I would go to see what it was like. I feel like it's better to know what's out there than it is to not know. So no matter how vile it was I'd go and see it. If I met him on the street I'd want to ask him about it too. There has to be more going on than I was just marketing my club so I decided to put a collar on two women and lead them around in daylight. If there isn't he's clearly insane. 

Avenger: The funniest thing would be what he would do if he has daughters. His past would quite literally scar them. 

Troamteam: That would be terrible. It wouldn't be funny at all! He should not have children at all. If he has daughters and they see that picture then it'll be all but impossible to remove that image from their minds. And if he has sons they'll go around thinking that they can put women on leashes. 

Afam: So he shouldn't have children?

Avenger: No. Probably not, but he will anyway, because anyone that does what that guy did, thinks it's acceptable behaviour. 

Afam: I don't know that I can do this anymore. I am quite literally exhausted. Let's leave this out there for the readers of the blog. I think we've said everything that we think about it, but I don't know that it's enough. I'd like to know what the readers have to say about this. So Afamzers/famzers/beloved readers, please tell us what you make of this fiend and his actions. 

Afam End Note:
This conversation literally happened on the shared google document that was meant to be a recap of episode three of Skinny Girl in Transit. Like I said, Afamzers/famzers/beloved readers, please tell us what you make of this fiend and his actions.


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A very Troam Interview: Who's Adeolu Adefarasin?

12:34:00
Special people deserve special treatment. It's like when you meet someone and they tell you about an interesting but insane thing that they're doing, and you believe that they'll succeed even though you don't know them. This is how we felt when we met Adeolu Adefarasin, the actor who plays Nathan in Skinny Girl in Transit. To be perfectly honest the blog's official stance is as follows.



Adeolu Adefarasin isn't a god dog alien man like many of you tragic male characters out there. Heck! We're not even sure that he is a man. He's a demi-god or an exalted hero in a man's body. His hair is made of unicorn fluff and his skin is made of celestial bronze. He eats sunlight for breakfast and he shits rainbows. Everytime you're lucky enough to see a rainbow know that it isn't because of light and moisture in the air, it's because Adeolu Adefarasin has just taken a dump somewhere.

This interview is a TroambyAfam first. Typically, when we interview people, we skype them, record the conversation, and spend hours constructing a narrative using some of their best quotes. As we usually only interview good people that we respect we've got a small tendency to sound like we're in love, or like we've developed a passion for arse kissing, but not so. It's difficult to keep your cool when you meet awesome people. In this interview, we didn't skype Adeolu, because Afam would have been as awkward as hell, we sent a list of questions to his PR representative and he sent answers. We felt very professional about it.

And now for the man himself! 

When did you know that you wanted to be an actor?

I first got into acting when I moved to boarding school in the UK at the age of 13, but would say I first really decided I wanted to do acting when I had my first lead role in a school production. We did a performance of Agamemnon in which I played the title role. There were some highs and some epic fails, like me falling flat on my face in my underwear during the final bow, but it was such an adrenaline rush and I loved every moment of it.

He clearly has no shame. Here he is in Snapped, Nigeria's first Snapchat movie (Are those really a thing?), serving clavicles, chest hair, and area boy. It's a Halloween lewk. 

Once you knew what did you do about it?

When I decided I wanted to be an actor I fully committed, some would probably say overcommitted, because I did something that in hindsight I would change: I put all my eggs in one basket. For my A-Levels I studied Performing Arts, Photography and Media Studies. I went on to join the British National Youth theatre, get a degree in acting and study film. I steeped myself in classical work doing performances of both Othello and Hamlet.



Why did you move back to Lagos?

My decision to move back was surprising to even me, but after a while in the US, I came to the realisation that I was no longer doing acting that I enjoyed. I wanted to come home and be part of something bigger and set a path for myself that meant I could effect change. One of the reasons I love film is that I enjoy when a movie ends and I am changed. So, I moved back to create work on a stage where I believe I could have a great impact and create work with meaning.

What’s your dream role?

The example I’ll give here isn’t exactly my dream role, but I think it encapsulates what I am looking for in my dream role and that is The Joker in The Dark Knight. I hold Heath Ledger’s performance in such high regard. I want to play a role that is internally challenging; something dynamic, where there is real internal conflict; something where the character is at war with themselves. I believe it creates the opportunity for an actor to really get his hands dirty and find truth that all humans deal with but on a massive scale. For me, that is what film should always be: truth in the most intense and dramatic circumstances.

How did you get the Skinny Girl in Transit part?

Through unmerited favour. I got put in touch with Abimbola Craig through her mother actually, and really I procrastinated with reaching out but when I finally did it turned out they were looking. I sent in my acting reel and they liked my stuff, so they called me in for a meeting and we really hit it off. Since then Bimbo and NdaniTV have been an absolute blessing, and she is amazing to work alongside too.

What’s the most interesting thing about your character?

On the surface, Nathan is just the innocent gentleman, the good boy, but there is another side to him that comes out and gives him layers I enjoy and I think the audience will too. You can also see that he is methodical about that side, but only some people can see it; others just see the good boy.

Well he isn't looking very innocent or good in this picture. Here's the young man... I'm not quite sure what he's doing, but I suppose every actor needs a look like this in his repertoire. It's a bit intense so I asked a colleague who has a vagina about it and she said, "Lovely photo. Fine boy. How Old?" And I said, "Did your pastor tell you that 2017 is your year for marriage?" And she said, "maybe."

What was it like working with the cast?

I’m honestly quite a shy person so on the first day or two I was pretty quiet but the cast is amazing, and I mean every single member! It was just such a laugh from beginning to end and you could tell a real family was built there, but they welcome outsiders so well. I had a bit of a roasting session for the absolutely effervescent Bisola but that was the beginning of the love. I honestly had an amazing time on set and miss it a lot already.

What’s next for you?

Well I recently just finished on Season 3 of Gidi Up, so there’s that. I cannot wait to see audience’s reception to it. I am also currently in the long but thrilling process of producing my first film: a film I believe really captivates so much of Nigeria and has such a strong story that if told well, could be loved globally and that is what we are hoping to do.

Troamteam Take Aways...

You really mean the chap decided to become an actor after he fell down in his underwear as a child in public? How extraordinary! Anyway you look at it, this is not the expected reaction. I'd have run to my mummy, cried for days and if anyone ever asked me to go on stage again, I'd ask if their middle name was a dirty word like bastard.

Once he knew what he wanted he fully committed. This is good advice! Once you know what you want, commit like it's a Nigerian wedding and you're about to be sprayed with dollars!

Adeolu left the Overseas when he realised he wanted to create work on a stage where he believed he could have a great impact and create work with meaning. Aka money isn't the best motivator, meaning and fulfilment are.

He says he got his part in Skinny Girl in Transit through unmerited favour. Thank you Baba God for blessing your boy with some favour, because if not for that favour, I don't think we'd have blogged about him this year.

We'll be blogging and recapping Gidi Up season 3 too because where Adeolu goes, we shall follow.

To follow the young chairman on twitter, please click this hyper link because they're actually anal to make. 

If you're looking to start a fan club then you should probably start by following him on instagram. 

And if we haven't scared him away, we'll have him back to talk about how he's dealing with the receding hairline disease that's tying the destinies of many unfortunate young men in Nigeria right now. For that interview, it's a good idea to follow Afam on twitter, and then follow troamteam on twitter, because if you don't, you'll probably miss it.

Happy Days,
Troamteam


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Cool fm's Freeze says Go forth and Masturbate... We will! Most of us already do!

15:17:00
I woke up to an imessage from Afam that said: "You probably shouldn't go to work because you're currently a cesspit of disease and that's putting it mildly. With any luck you'll take the day off and write like your life depends on it."

He was right. After a late contraction of the Harmattan flu, I'm convinced that my body is almost entirely made of mucus. I'm sick enough that leaving my bed today is an unrealistic dream, but I'm not ill enough to not work. I've got a jug of lemonade, a bottle of Jack Daniels, and a cup of Jinseng tea beside me so don't worry. I have it on good authority that this is all you need to beat the flu. 

As interesting as my battle with the plague is we'll have to abandon my battle with the flu for a more interesting topic: Freeze and Masturbation. 

Freeze is an on air personality that I simply have no time for. If I had one wish it would be that he'd shut up. I do not wish him well, I do not wish him the best, I wish that he would put a sock in his mouth and leave it there. His mouth runs on the devil's bile and SPEED. It spews rubbish and nonsense with such regularity that his address should be the dustbin. However even the most villainous villains in all the land are fated to have at least one good day every decade, and it turns out that his happened rather recently. 

Enter Afam with an editorial interlude

Easy Tiger. Even though Freeze appears to speak without much thought with worrying frequency it is far better to be polite to the point of rudeness than it is to be straight up rude. For the record this errant thought and probable symptom of Jack Daniels induced liberalism is not my position on Freeze or the blog's for that matter. It's simply a man calling it as he sees it.

Afam out!

The whole thing began when a young man asked Freeze if wanking/beating the baton/stroking the disco stick was bad. And he asked this because he's probably been going at it like a crazy sex addict. He even asked about sex toys, which is fairly alternative when you're Nigerian. 


When I read the question which suffers from far too much arse kiss, I thought Freeze would say something like, "Don't masturbate because that's how the devil ties the destinies of men in his enormous calabash." But the OAP surprised me. In a rare display of common sense, Freeze said that it was probably fine and that God would probably understand. The first reason he cited was health. It has been proven more than once that men who empty their sperm banks almost daily are less likely to develop prostate cancer later on. The other explanations he gave were a little wonky. 

He implied that because boys aren't getting married at 13 like they did in the time Moses, and because men no longer have thousands of concubines, it's okay to masturbate.

I mostly agree. In Lagos I'm almost completely celibate. If I didn't have my right hand helping out from time to time I think I'd go mad! I'd walk into a bar, see something that looks like a girl, get down on one knee and propose instantly. Christianity says that adultery and fornication are bad, and that's fair enough. Somehow, doing it on my own seems like the lesser evil.

Happy Days,

Troam team. 
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Rules every blogger (NIGERIAN OR NOT) should live by - DO NOT GO TAYLOR SWIFT ON ANYONE!

13:28:00
I’m sitting at the dining table wearing a receding hairline protector, a shirt from Gap that I got years ago and my mom’s yoga pants. I quite like that all the members of my family are mostly the same size. It means that I can pretty much walk into anyone’s closet and wear something. But that’s by the way.
These sweatpants are quite literally womenswear for men I tell you. Spectacular. Lovely. Lovely. Mama Afam is going to kill me when she sees this. But before she gets her bank account and slaps me with it, the very reverend Mama Afam will look to God and say, "Lord, is this my earthly challenge? Please I need help with it."

I was thinking about what to write. The process is actually rather strange. I drink a cup of coffee, watch a live  Bruno Mars performance, go on a youtube binge filled with all my favourites. Beyonce, Pentatonix, Florence and the Machine, and Lupe Fiasco, before I remember I’ve written 5 words on no particular subject that aren’t very good. So, I’ll consider my go to topics: depression, friendship, love or the lack there of, women’s rights, television, pop culture and what happened in my mind five minutes ago. 

Most of the time, love or the lack there of wins. So I’ll think back to my last go at the fleeting feeling and I’ll write a few words like so. 

I walked into that bar, the one with cheap drinks and not too bad music, with a head full of dreams. There were the ones where we made it till forever; down the aisle and to the great beyond. There were the ones where we sputtered and stumbled, all the while hurting the other. And there were those where we crashed and burned as fiercely as anyone would think possible. In the middle of all those uncertain futures, there were two things that I was sure of: you and now. After all my years of solitude, there was you, the grand destroyer, the one that made me stop looking. And there was the now - the fantastic now; life as I thought it should be. Living in the present, through the turmoil, the fire and the flames; uncertain but happy. 

 The End.

That’s a prime example of Taylor Swift moment waiting to happen. The next paragraph will feature lines that only serve to spin the story, of which there are three: your side of things, the other person’s side of things, and what actually happened. You’ll say things like, “ I knew you were trouble when you walked in” and they’ll say things like, “I  lived your chess game but you changed the rules everyday.” People that know you will wince, and the people that you don’t will grab some puff puff, a can of Orijin and prepare themselves for an entertaining night. 

This is what happens when you put a picture in photoshop and you do small play play. It isn't half as interesting as I thought it would be in the end but that's a story for another day. I will do a better job at photoshop next week. 


This is what happens when you Taylor Swift, an action the Urban dictionary has several definitions for. 

The first and most impressive is, “The act of pulling your pants down, sitting on the ground and wiping your bare ass against the floor like an old dog.”

Even more useless is this one which says, “When white people fly outta no where on their kale carpets to project themselves into conversations no one invited them to, and make it about themselves.”

In the context of this blog/article Taylor Swifting is where you take your side of your love story and air it with little regard for discretion or personal shame on the largest platform available to you. 

When done right, it can be a profound conversation about love, loss and other similar disasters, but, as it is hardly ever done right, it is something I think all social media people could go easy on in future. 

Happy Days,
Afam
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Tiwa Savage begins 2017 by picking up discarded husband.

11:50:00
What will 2017 bring for Tiwa Savage? Well, the singer has a new deal with Jay Z’s Roc Nation, through which she’ll probably be releasing more Kele Kele music. She’ll be dealing with her terrible addiction to making money. And if all goes swimmingly she’ll be pregnant by April. If you’re wondering who’ll be doing the turkey basting/impregnating/ baby making it’ll be her husband Tee Billz. Anyway you look at it it’s a lot to look forward to, and it began with some appropriately Savage publicity, lacking in subtlety, tact, or any attempt to control the narrative of her love life and the scandals that lurk there-in. 

You may wonder why we’re talking about the star. The thing to do when someone blocks you on instagram is block them back and pretend that they no longer exist, but at The Ramblings of a Madman aka TROAM, we’re more than a little bit unusual. Instead of shutting her out, we’re going in. I mean, anyone that publicly outs their husband as a serial eater of edible catering and a rather enthusiastic snorter of cocaine is a legend. In that video interview no one will ever forget she straight up destroyed him. Now when I see Tee Billz I think, “drug addict, thief, shady individual whose greatest public failing is his overwhelming generosity with his penis.” 

Their reunion was a Christmas miracle. The couple let us know with a wink and a nudge that they spent Christmas day together. They both posted pictures of their son wearing the same clothes which indicates that they were in the same room at the same time. But that wasn’t enough to fuel the press machine. They pretty much brought the new year in together, posing for a picture at Stephanie Coker and Olumide Adenirokun’s traditional wedding in Lagos on the 30th of December. 



As this picture is all the proof we have of their reconciliation, I shall analyse it properly.

Tiwa Savage is clearly giving us the if you fuck up one more time you'll never see all of this bedazzled good good in the other room again. And by fuck up I mean, if he smells a sex caterer, gets a call from his drug dealer, or fails to report his every move with pictorial proof to her. There'll be no late night hotel visits in his immediate future. 

Tee Billz on the other hand is giving us the face of a man who's trying very very hard to do well. He's channeling the sort of optimism that only a good stint in rehab can bring and he's looking desperately for that N45 million that he owes some villain or the other. His face seems to be saying, "Happy New Years people! Anything for the boys?"

What can we do but wish them the best - if not for them then for the sake of their beautiful son, Jamil. 

Happy Days,
Troamteam



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Cos I'm a smoothie operator!!

11:00:00
To be perfectly honest, new years last year was a drag. I, Afam, actually paid money to watch 2016 come in. I stood on the banks of the Thames (that London river) drunker than a man should ever be and watched the fireworks explode. Had I known that 2016 would be a rather rubbish year, I would have saved myself the money. At the start of the year I felt no optimism. It was just meh. Meh is what you say when a situation is so completely mediocre that it deserves no coherent thought.  

This year already feels different. For reasons that I cannot explain, I feel like I just snorted unicorn shit or some other unbelievable substance. It’s so startling that I went up to Papa Afam to discuss it.

Enter, me, Afam and Papa Afam watching channels in a white tee and boxers. This version of Papa Afam isn’t my favourite one, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

Afam: Dad, did you slip me a pill of walking on sunshine while I was asleep? I’m feeling a little more peculiar than usual. 

Papa Afam: This is why I insist that you’re on drugs. Please work out how you’re going to move out of my house. 

Afam: If I moved out you’d be bored. 

Papa Afam: How so?

Afam: Pardon me if I overstep but you’re a troublesome man at heart. And don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with being both troubled and troublesome. If you were to live alone with my mother without me, you wouldn’t have as many opportunities to be troublesome.

Papa Afam: But I don’t know what you are talking about!

Afam: Who was it that was trying to stop me from drinking one the first of January? Every time you poured yourself a glass you’d stare at me intensely and yell, “GO EASY ON THE BOOZE AFAM MY SON!” Now everybody and their dog thinks I’m an alcoholic. 

Papa Afam: Prevention’s always better than cure. You’ll thank me when you’re older. 

Exit my Chairman and critic in chief, Papa Afam and this young Chairman, Afam. Stage left!

All of that is by the way. When I woke up this morning, I knew exactly what I needed. I was going to have breakfast. Breakfast is a thing I almost never do. I didn’t want eggs or toast or indomie. I wanted a smoothie. As far as I’m concerned, liquid meals are the height of good sense and efficiency. 

I went to the maid, Blessing and croaked something like, “Pineapple. Orange. Carrot. Ginger. Oats. Smoothie.” She said something back but my just woken up 26 year old brain didn’t catch it. 

When I returned to the kitchen, I saw what she’d done. It was a creation that made my eyes bug out of my head in astonishment. It was orange, and very thick, and, there was a pack of weetabix on the side. I smiled gently and indulgently and said, “Blessing what is this supposed to be?”

She glanced at me dismissively and said, “Is this not what you asked for? It looks absolutely disgusting but I did the best I could to fulfil your wish.”

I was about to start complaining about the great difference between Weetabix and oats when she said, “if you stress me this morning, I will not tidy up your room, which is just as disgusting as this thing.”

I shut up immediately. My room is the most honest representation of my mind, scattered, confused, and desperately untidy. I cannot organise it myself just like I need a life coach like yesterday! 

The smoothie itself wasn’t half bad. The ginger helped with any nausea I might have felt as it moved down my throat like a toxic vitamin and fibre rich sludge, and the Weetabix added a fullness that I quite like. 

The spirit of this blog post should be clear but if it isn’t I’ll give you a sentence or two. I know everyone says that new year resolutions are useless because after February you forget about them and continue as you were the year before, but doesn’t every little help? I mean if I work out for two months of the year, have I not somehow increased my life expectancy? Really, think about it.

So, for as long as I can stomach it, I'll be drinking some fruity incredibly dodgy concoction every morning and I feel rather good about it. 

Happy Days,
Afam


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The Skinny Girl in Transit Season Three Episode 2 Recap... Adeolu Adefarasin aka Nathan is a SPECtranet

10:52:00
It starts again, one empty page and a dream to successfully review Skinny Girl in Transit season 3. The Harmattan haze that only a year like 2016 is blocking out the sun and Afam and I have been joined by my Chairman, the Avenger.

Afam: I don’t know why you’re calling him your chairman, he’s my chairman.

Troamteam1: I thought I was your chairman?

Afam: Well, you know what they say, “The Chairman of my Chairman is also my Chairman.”

Avenger: As flattering as all of this is, and I am flattered, who’s the biggest chairman of us all?

Afam: It’s definitely Troamteam. You didn’t shoot your shot right and somebody calabashed your chairman destiny?

Avenger: Why would you even say that though?

Troamteam: It’s because I’m the more supportive one. I keep our boy committed and I’ve been writing on the blog for weeks. Plus, I’m the better friend. 

Avenger: But I was friends with him first. You weren’t even here for the heavy lifting during his crop-top and sandals phase and you want to be saying you’re the better friend? Sod off. 

Afam: He’s the Biggest Chairman because the only reason why you said you’d do this, is that we’ve agreed to watch you play tennis at Ikoyi Club when we’re done.

Avenger: Don’t forget. You said you’d film as well. My backhand has been misfiring. I need to see what I’m doing wrong. 

Troamteam: Mr third seed at Ikoyi Club OSHEY!!!

Afam: Anyway let’s not forget why the both of you are here. The blog’s recapping the third season of Skinny Girl in Transit. Typically, it’s something I would do alone but I thought it would be cool if I was joined by two of my friends. Now let me tell you how this works. 

We’ve each got a laptop, and we’ve hooked one of them up to the television. We’re all on the same google docs page, and we’ll be commenting as we watch the show. If the tone of this recap is a little different from the first one, it’s that we’ve been drinking. 




Afam: Well, the beginning’s a conversation between Shalewa and Tiwa. It’s so stilted that I can definitely see one stabbing the other in the near future. Why can’t sisters get on properly?

Troamteam: I know some sisters that cannot go through a conversation without threatening to kill the other. The situation in Skinny Girl in Transit is mild. 

Afam: And I can’t understand this Mide situation. I mean they were hardly together and three months later she’s still harping on about some basically insignificant kiss that the guy had with his ex. This is why I’m single. 

Avenger: No. You’re single because the pepper that your ex showed you has scared you, but it’s your fault. You were eating vulture when you supposed to be eating chicken. Many things have feathers but not all of them are chickens. Anyway. Lewk! Is that a man I see?

Troamteam: Let’s gauge the squeeze. 

Afam: Please don’t. We like him on the blog, and I know him personally. He’s Adeolu Adefarasin, or Nathan. Whatever he lacks in squeezability, he makes up for with excessive lip licking and head turning. Look at that licking his lips like he’s seen Kentucky Fried Chicken. 

Look at this Spec! Spec! Spectranet right there giving what I call a Yoruba Demon eye. ACTOR!!

Troamteam: I suppose you won the bet. You don’t have to take four shots of vodka back to back now. 
Avenger: I don’t know why you guys are assessing the Squeeze, Nathan, when Tiwa’s nightie is in the picture. That’s some bride of Chucky realness right there. It really looks like it crawled out of a Nollywood film about witches. 

Troamteam: YOU ARE RUDE!

Afam: Are you guys getting this questionable camera work? It’s starting to look a bit like an interview for CNN. Then Tiwa starts talking about how she knows Nathan (Adeolu Adefarasin) and it’s some Peter and Jane primary school and secondary school shit. But the real question is why is the focus on the guy off. He’s the blog’s chairman, the focus must be sharp!

Thou shall not blur the Spectranet!

Avenger: Oh they’re getting along. It’s like a love story until the part where he says, “Yes. I’m single.” This is code for summon the Yoruba Demon. But on a more serious note, am I the only one that thinks this first meeting courtship is a little on the nose?

Afam: You have the right of it. But I think it’s true to the style of the show. The one thing I’ll say is that the bits where Tiwa speaks to the camera directly aren’t very successful here. As far as I know love stories begin with meet cutes, the scene where a guy’s shopping for a pair of pyjamas and he picks the shirt only to find that a girl has picked the trousers. The way this is staged seems more like an arranged marriage than anything else.

Troamteam: Say no to arranged marriages in 2017.

Avenger: I’ll give that comment my best unlewk! (that’s cool speak for ignoring someone). The mother’s etraordinary. I mean she gives good over the top stereotypical mother for an Ibo woman. 

Troamteam : It’s perfect over the top Yoruba mother for anyone. She sound’s just like Afam’s mum in her more dramatic moments.

Afam: Please don’t besmirch my mother’s good name in public after you came to her birthday party and finished the champagne. The woman is legendary. And can we take a minute to talk about that transition. It was monstrous! Straight from Tiwa’s mum and Nathan’s mum to Tiwa’s lips. It’s not like it’s that bad, I mean in my mind it’s borderline disgusting, but to most people out there it’s fine. The question they need to be asking is, are we telling the story the best way that we can through our film work. And I’ll answer it. No. 

Troamteam: Look at you giving them I have a Masters degree in journalism. Anyway I’m here for the office friend today. Last episode her wonky eyebrow was distracting me but this episode she’s a gem. “I can’t believe that everything went from fairy tale to bitter leaf soup with both of you.” Epic line!

Afam: Can we just allow Mide to go in peace. Everything is Mide this, Mide that, Mide. If this was me talking to you lot, I will hear something like. “Everyone is wondering what you’re doing with your life. From our recent conversations your first and last priority is BAE!!” And don’t comment. Take your sub and shut up. 

Avenger: Lol. Is there trouble in paradise? Now there’s some petty office politics. Hadissa coming in strong with a verbal jab and the wonky eyebrow friend coming in with a HAYMAKER! Finish her! 



Troamteam: Sub received, but was there a love rivalry between Hadisa and Didi aka wonky eyebrow friend over Mide? I knew it. Mide is a shady guy. He’s literally… what’s the name of that Toke Makinwa’s shady boo again?

Afam: It’s Maje. 

Troamteam: Yes. He’s been sowing some lies, I’ll bet 2 shots on it. 

Avenger: Make it four shots and we have a deal. I see what you mean about the cuts from scene to scene. It’s giving me whiplash. Tiwa is showing us all how you greet the boss that you’re creeping with on the low. Don’t come with Good Morning honey! Come with Good Morning Sir!

Afam: So there’s a replacement General Manager that’s meant to be taking over from Mide because the Konji (sexual frustration) has turned him into a MUMU! She’s essentially the budget version of Meryl Streep in the Devil wears Prada. I mean you can be cold, but you shouldn’t be wooden. So she’s acting like one of the Robots in Human. It’s a British show about robots. 

Troamteam: Don’t be too critical. Even if the acting looks slightly drugged up, the writing in this scene is pretty strong. 

Avenger: Tiwa is looking cute oh! Ah she just became uncute. After the new boss and the devil’s aide, Hadisa left the office, Tiwa and Mide decided to have a little conversation. They should start calling Single Girl in Transit WILL TIWA EVER FORGET THE KISS THAT MIDE HAD WITH ANOTHER WOMAN WHILE HE WAS SINGLE? On a slightly different vein they sound just like Afam and his sort of ex. You guys could have a conversation that went. Afamefuna. Bae? Afamefuna. BabyBae? Afamefuna? Babyboo. 

Troamteam: I am DEAD!

Afam: I’m banishing the both of you. The Orijin has eroded your good judgement. Finally a scene jump that didn’t kill me. Tiwa’s back home and Shalewa starts talking about some guy that asked for her number. The take away from this is that these women are marriage mad. The episode came in at 17 minutes and 46 seconds. Ndani, would it kill you if all the episodes were of equal length? The first episode was 21 minutes and 46 seconds. 

Troamteam: And that’s why we call you MR PEDANTIC. Anyway, now that we finally got round to finishing this review more than a few weeks late, we’ve got an interview with Adeolu Adefarasin! Troam for the win! Troam will put everyone else in the bin. 

Troam for the Win,
The Troamteam, The first Avenger, and Afam. 

Afam Sidebar: Well that was cringeworthy wasn't it?











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