Dear friends, enemies, and Afamzers, who we love dearly,

It is our greatest pleasure to announce ourselves, the first employees of troam by Afam. We dance in the forests of Lagos like flickering candles and run wild like the flower children of the 70s.

Source:Wikipedia

In a moment of complete sanity our resident madman realised that the only way he could cope with the work load of the blog was if he forked out some cash from his exceedingly paltry earnings and paid someone else to do the work. He doesn't pay much, but we cannot deny that the extra cash goes a long way.

Now that we've got that poor excuse of an introduction out of the way, we'll get on with the October review.

In life we must never forget to celebrate the good. If we do the world will be colourless and horrid. Eyes will not shine with glee, and beers will be shared with sighs and wailing. The good things, no matter how small, are our only respite from life's tyranny. So we'll take a moment to appreciate the good things that happened to the blog in October.

The blog was read a thousand more time than it was in September, a delightful development if there ever was one. Every view is like a kiss on the cheek from someone you hold dear. As we work to improve our consistency and quality we can only ask that you subscribe to our newsletter and share us with your friends every now and then. In fact, do it everyday if you can manage it. Any action that you take to see us grow would probably send us on a rocket-ship to Summer-land, the sunny place where hearts don't get broken and heads swim in the sky.

A great many things happened in October but nothing that we say or do can overcome our present realities. It is 10pm in a restaurant called Blowfish and if there are smiles, we can only look on in envy for it would mean that we look upon faces whose hearts did not bleed when they learned Donald Trump won the United State's presidential election.

We are filled with despair first for ourselves, brown as clay, Nigerian's who feel like the world just got a great deal smaller and infinitely more hostile and only because our hair's kinky, our lips are thick, and our passports are green. And we despair for Hillary, with all the feeling that mourners are known to display when they look at the coffins of their friends.

It is indescribably painful that we live knowing that the most powerful man in the world was elected on a mandate that implicitly supports racism, misogyny and fascism. It is heartbreaking that Hillary's 40 years of dedication, sacrifice, and service were not enough to defeat a selfish, lying, grotesque joke of a candidate who took up politics as a hobby a year ago. Our grief is palpable. It's almost physical. We hear speeches asking for unity, but the feelings the election stirred are not easily forgot. His victory smells a lot like our history, centuries of oppression, colonisation, and slavery.

For us at The Ramblings of a Madman by Afam, it feels like a break up because that's what it is. Be that as it may, the struggle for a kinder world does not stop with this loss. We must cherish the lessons learned and find a way to move on.

The Troam Team.

It may seem silly that I have chosen this very moment to talk about the month of September, but, it isn’t, and I’ll explain why this is. When a writer with a website comes to the realisation that the website isn’t some sort of fuddly duddly hobby, he or she will try a great many things and experiment with even more. This is both the way of the successful and the way of life. We cannot go a day without doing things that are both ill advised and ill considered. The only caveat is that we learn from them. This is my current philosophy. Of course, it must be noted that I change my philosophies like I change my underwear, daily and sometimes I forget them altogether.

My current philosophy says that I’m in the business of building a life, and as I never really thought I would live as long as I have, it is a truly terrifying prospect. Every aspect of my life is susceptible to an inquisition. What are my values? Are they good? What lies do I believe are true? Am I a good friend? How will I make an income? How can I be better? Are my friends good? Have I been lazy? Am I too hard on myself? I could go on, but if I did, I suspect that this article wouldn’t be very fun to read. As I am in the business of fun and leisure, if you, my dear readers, are not entertained by at least one sentence in a blog, I have failed miserably.

September was a difficult month. The move back to Lagos was so abrupt that I was shell-shocked. Like with most moves I’ve made in my life I turned up at the dreaded and dreadful Murutala Mohammed Airport in Lagos without my luggage, broker than a young man should ever be, and smelly! This was not quite the plan. My plan was to remain in London, live the life of a baby boy without responsibilities, somehow find a job that paid enough for suitable accommodation somewhere in Zone 1, and remain there until I believed myself strong enough to ride the bucking stallion that is life in Lagos.

Life made other plans so I turned up in Lagos, without much word or notice, and began work at a broadcasting house that’s really rather respectable within the week. At first I was resentful of the fact that I’d gone away and come back again, but I came to appreciate it. If my life plan is to be taken seriously, then I need to be in Lagos for no fewer than two years while I build the blog into a serious media platform for those who’ve had the benefit of a reasonable education. It is said that you write what you know, so this is what I shall do. The fact that I couldn’t at this very moment run a blog that speaks to the masses is my greatest joy. It would mean that I’d have to know what it meant to suffer economically and that would kill me. I am quite convinced that poverty would look very poor on me.

So what’s happened in September? A couple of things, I did work that I actually delivered roughly on time, and got paid poorly for. It is a great step forward. Some of you may turn your noses up at me, but I’ll do you the honour of not paying attention. Being paid poorly is the first step in the plan. It is the thing that comes a good five stages before being paid handsomely. I am in the process of cultivating a new gang. The new friendship scheme is called the Avenger series, I am rather pleased with this one. The maintenance is easy, the conversation is scandalous, and our proximity to one another is almost astounding. I live beside one, work beside two, and I’m never more than a 20 minute drive away from three. Lastly I have started going to prayer meetings at my therapist’s office on Mondays. I cannot quite believe it myself, but after my first session, Avengers 1 and 3 got a contract that’s worth more money than I have ever seen in Naira, and Avenger 2 didn’t die when Lagos tried rather hard to see him off. Of course I cannot say for sure that it is God that brought this good fortune, but if it is, I would never be so foolish as to do myself the disservice of ending a potential stream of rather visible blessings.



The way I see it, I'm in the process of building a life. I have the blocks I need to do it. So all I have to do is stack them, restack them, and shuffle them around until I get something I'd like to live with. It is a thing that is easier said than done.

Happy Days,
Afam