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.


Continue Reading
2
2 comments:
Labels: ,

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


Continue Reading
1
1 comment:
Labels: , , , ,

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. 
Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: , ,

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
Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: ,

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



Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: , ,

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


Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: ,

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?











Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: , , , ,

The things that happen at 355 - You meet famous people

12:31:00
A valid question to ask us this year is, "WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU GUYS THIS CHRISTMAS!" It's a question that we're asking ourselves too. Plans failed epically. The drinking - hang over - drinking lifestyle is a recipe for disaster. When you're caught in the middle of it you're consumed by the prospect of night time adventures followed by days of absolutely nothing.

One of the places we went to a lot this holiday was 355. It isn't the greatest bar in the world but it's guaranteed to draw a decent crowd. If you've got some place to be at 10 or 11 it's a brilliant place to begin your night. A double gin and tonic is N1,600, which is fairly decent when you consider that we got the same at Cova (the club on the top floor of Mega Plaza) for N3,000 on Friday.

We went to 355 last week Wednesday aka the last Wednesday of 2016 and it was lit. There weren't so many people that the bouncers grew presidential sized balls and started running the door like the mafia, but there were enough bodies that it was impossible to dance without accidentally grinding on or with someone else. This is what we call a decent crowd.

So what the what happened at 355?



There are two versions of the answer: the long and the short. The short version is that we met Tammy from the We Just Got Back Podcast. It's the best Podcast about Lagos life out there with a decent amount of time spent on a subject that occupies the minds of many a twenty something in Lagos: getting laid/knacking/straffing/ shooting a shot/ flinging the light sabre. If we were being boring we'd call it sex, but we can't remember the last time anyone in their right mind described sex as sex. There's always a new more exciting adjective for the activity. We also met John Boyega of Star Wars fame.

We started the night with a roadie: a bottle of coke augmented with copious amounts of Hennessy. Pre-drinking is necessary when you're essentially earning a beginner's salary. Those are really only good for petrol and weekly drinks at budget bars. If you're thinking about saving and being social forget about it. The only way to save in this climate is to sit at home and stick to the indomie diet. And even then, you can't eat more than 6 packs of the stuff per day. If you're feeling exorbitant you can add an egg once a day. Any more and you're a bottle of ogogoro (the cheapest alcohol available) living on a beer budget.

The moment we walked in we heard a tall pretty girl scream, "Afam!" Now we were taken aback because while Afam had told us that he was once a mini celebrity or something like that, we didn't quite believe him. He turned toward her and basically jump hugged her like she was an over sized teddy bear. Because he's a rather short guy, his head only came up to her breasts, but he hung on to her like she was an over sized teddy bear anyway.

Enter Afam and Tam

 Tam: Afam it's so great to meet you!

Afam: You as well! I saw you at the Eat Drink Festival but I was to annoyed from the stress that it took to get there to say hello.

Tam: You should have! Come on! We're like old buddies.

Afam: You have the right of it but I have a question for you.

Tam: Shoot your shot!

Afam: Is your vagina fixed now? Last I heard it was broken.

Tam: We thank God. It seems to be working properly.

Exit Afam and Tam

 This is one of the reasons why we don't like taking him anywhere. He's very likely to embarrass anyone he hangs out with because he's rather weird.

After milling about and half dancing for some time we saw a guy in a hat walk in. He looked dangerously familiar but we couldn't remember where we'd seen him. The one thing about him that struck us was that his skin was chemical peel fresh. There wasn't a blackhead or pimple in sight. Afam left us for a quick word with Bayo Oke-Lawal, then he came back and said, "Dudes! That guy in the black hat is John Boyega!"

"The star wars guy?" I asked, pulse racing, visibly shaking, and a split second away from a sprint to his table.

"Do we get to meet him?" I asked again. Afam laughed and said, "I'm not sure about you guys, but I probably will. I've got the connections."

That basically killed the night for us, so we stood there until Afam went to meet the biggest Nigerian in entertainment, John Boyega.


He walked up to the table, shook John's hand, held onto it for far too long and they exchanged a few words. When Afam returned we asked him what happened and he let out a very long sigh.

Enter Afam and John Boyega.

 I walked up to him with all sorts of questions in my mind. I spent like a month of my life sending emails and tweeting at him and his team because I wanted an interview. I didn't think much about the interview, truth be told I only wanted to meet him. I have a thing about meeting successful people because I think good luck is contagious. When I actually grasped his hand like a drowning man clutches a straw all of that went out of the window. I stuttered and said, "H-h-h-o-oooo-w are you doing?"

"I'm good thanks. How are you?" he said it with great concern. I was about to say, "I have the worst cold man! I feel like I'm dying!" But I remembered that he was holding my unwashed hand, and I shut my mouth all the way up. Instead of informing him that he was probably going to get sick in a couple of days, I said, "I hope you're well"

"I am thanks." He said with a smile, and I walked away.

Exit Afam and John Boyega

 And that my friend's is how the world's biggest idiot, Afam, met John Boyega and failed to get anything of use from him. I mean the chap didn't even get a selfie. If we ever meet him again, you better believe that we'll be walking away with a quote and a selfie.

Happy Days,
Troamteam.

Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: , ,

Setting up the The Ramblings of a Madman home office...

12:00:00
The holidays have been hard. Of course sleeping whenever I want and waking up whenever I like is nice, but it’s not at nice as having somewhere to go and something to do. Believe me when I tell you that the way to a fulfilled day or life is some structure. For weeks without end, I did nothing, but wake up sleep and saunter from party to party. 
That's me more than a little bit tipsy in Badagry. It's sort of like my country side. I go there whenever I'm absolutely fed up with life in Lagos. It happens more often than you'd think. I apologise for the bottle of water in my hand, but hydration is necessary for survival when you've hopped on the booze bandwagon. 

Some of it was fun but quite a lot of it was more exhausting than work. At least when you go to work for your daily bread you don’t wake up with the devil’s hangover and vague recollections of stupidity. 

All of that was very well and good until Harmattan came like a thunder. It just occurred to me that some of you may not know what Harmattan is, so I will tell you. Harmattan is the closest thing to winter that Lagos ever gets, but instead of snow, you get dust. Yes! dust literally falls from the sky. It blocks out the sun, clogs up your nose, and sneaks up your arse hole. For the past weak or so, I’ve been blowing my nose and seeing mucus tinged with dust! It’s dust! dust! everywhere! In some parts of Nigeria it gets cooler temperature wise but Lagos is not one of those parts. It’s heat, and humidity, and dust. A NIGHTMARE. 

When Harmattan came in like the wicked witch of the west I was passed out after a truly excessive night. In the morning I woke up like so. 
This is literally how I woke up one day. This is not a good look. In this picture I look like death, I look like I feel like death, and like I'm praying to be euthanised. I had the cold that Harmattan tends to bring. I don't know how people act normal when they come down with a cold. I tend to act like I'm a cancer patient. The sounds I make are groans. 

When the Harmattan cold passed I decided to put my wayward ways behind me and get to work, but there was a problem. If I said that I would wake up, crawl the two feet or so to my desk and write, I’d only be practicing self deceit. This young masterful chairman needs a different location from his bedroom to work in. I took the initiative to set one up. 

 I walked out into the garden, a wondrous creation with its ficus trees and the flame of the forest at its South most tip. The sun bore dow on me with all the brutality of 2016 and the Buhari Recession. 

 I call it the Buhari recession because as far as I'm concerned, the recession is a product of his administration. If he had acted when he should, the country's economy would not be in such dire straits. 

 It would be impossible to work under such tortuous conditions so I put my thinking cap on, a blue felt Ralph Lauren snapback. A vestige from my past life as a British Public School boy. 

 A couple of years ago we got an umbrella for the garden. Like most post adult children households dreams of barbecues and random garden gatherings remain dreams. The moment a child tastes the freedom that adulthood promises, the nuclear family unit becomes slightly less interesting. So the garden paraphernalia, the badminton net, the new grill, and the too large umbrella have all gone unused.
Can we take a minute to talk about how fantastically fabulous my shorts are? First off they're Speedos and they're bright pink. Some times when you're a little mellow you need a little yellow to pick you up. As I despise yellow, pink was the next best thing. These sports shorts are so short that if I do not wear the right sort of underwear my penis is quite literally bound to glance at the world from one leg or the other. I don't wear them very often but what's home if you can't be stupendously outrageous?

I stuck the umbrella in the middle of the garden and opened it. I didn't know how terrifying it would be until I did it. There was a lizard trapped in the eaves. It took will power I didn't know I had to not scream "Mummy there's a lizard coming for me. Save this Chairman!" Because I'm 26 and not a 2 year old girl I retrieved my balls from wherever they were hiding and slapped the shit out of the lizard. I did not collapse in defeat and that's something to be proud of.

Anyone with half a brain knows that one simply does not spank one's lizard in plain view. This is me spanking my lizard away from prying eyes. Aren't I the cleverest chairman in all the land? 


Lizard vanquished, I opened the umbrella, pulled out 2 garden chairs and called the spot my home office.



Happy Days,
Afam
Continue Reading
3
3 comments:
Labels: , ,

What do you do when it's your mum's birthday and you haven't got a present? Click link for answer.

11:03:00
Me stealing the MumBae as Dad looks on. 


I think it would not be inaccurate to say that Mama Afam is probably the most important person in my life. You see, I do not believe that there is anyone who is there for me as steadfastly as she. For as long as I’ve been alive I cannot remember a moment where I doubted her love for me. 

And so when it is her birthday, my heart lifts like a balloon and I spread my love for her like a degenerate donkey. If you hadn’t noticed I’m doing it right now. Mama Afam is great. Mama Afam is awesome. Mama Afam should get all the good things and then some. 

And that’s what you do when you have a blog. You tell the people you love how you feel as loudly as you can! 

MUMMY I LOVE YOU!

THANKS FOR EVERYTHING!

I’M SORRY FOR THE THINGS I LOST AND BROKE LAST YEAR!

I’M SORRY FOR THE THINGS I WILL LOSE AND BREAK THIS YEAR!

I SWEAR I’LL MAKE YOU PROUD. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUM!

much love,
Jigsy 

If you ask why I'm signing off at Jigsy I'll literally beat you with a bottle of Hennessy. It's one of my more private names. When Mama Afam's nagging and she's in a good mood, she says something like, "Jigsyjigsybaba, when will that book be published?" How terrible is it that I still don't know?



Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: , ,

Friends are like cars aren't they?

12:33:00


Friends are like cars. They're extremely convenient to have but a little expensive to maintain. Unlike cars they don’t need fuel or oil changes, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t need maintenance. In lieu of hours at the service station and battery replacements, they require time, frequent communication, and tonnes of effort. 

Like all vehicles with engines, this writer has found that different friends have different uses. There are the friends that are great to drink with, and there are the friends that are great to get high with. There are the friends that shine in deep meaningful conversations, and there are those that are fantastic in all career related matters. 

Because life is a bumpy ocean filled with mess and gore and all manner of disgusting things, it is difficult to know which friend is which, and this is why problems arise in friendship. Some times a going out friend is used as a deep meaningful conversation friend because that friend is there when you were due for a deep meaningful conversation about life. As this is not the way that friend should be used, there will be difficulties. It’s the same way your Ferrari will disappoint you after weeks of being used like a pick up truck. 

As it’s the start of another year, and most of the people that read this blog fall under the collective pile of, “I’M STILL FIGURING SHIT OUT!” This is a message and a call to action. If you’ve got a friend that’s effectively a Kia Picanto (a frightfully small and not particularly heavy duty car) please do not use that friend like it’s a Land Rover Discovery (The King of off road adventures and potholes)

Happy New Year,

Troamteam
Continue Reading
2
2 comments:
Labels: , ,

Brilliant Exits and Epic Returns

10:35:00

 My life typically goes like this. There’s a low that’s very low. An issue or some crisis that’s all but insurmountable. After this comes the wallow. The pity party fiesta, a series of events filled with moments where I look at my life with much confusion and much mucher regret. I ask myself what I did with the time, and the answer is usually nothing. I did nothing. Too weak to confront the big decisions and actual problems I chase the things that don’t matter. A fictional flaw in a friendship. The curve balls a shitty friend keeps flinging in my direction. A successful performance at a wedding or a dinner party. All of these things that should really be inconsequential handled with the weight of two degrees and a brilliant foundation. Suddenly my mum will find herself using all of her life experience to decode the meaning of a text. Nature abhors vacuums and I seem to fill mine with rubbish and nonsense. After a lot of dawdling and looking at the stars with frustration there’s the great push forward. I devote my time to the things that matter, and everyone that loves me breathes a collective sigh of relief. They wonder how long this push will last for, and if this time will be different. 

Some people tell me that I’m a role model and that I’m brave. It’s always nice to hear even if it’s incredibly untrue. I think it’s because I say a lot of things that other people won’t for better or for worse and that I am publicly brutal with myself. There is no bit of criticism anyone could deliver that I haven’t already given myself a tirade about ten times over. You’ll tell me something like, “Boy! you need to get your priorities straight.” I’ll nod, and agree because I do. It’s clear for anyone to see and then I’ll ask, “but how do I go about this?” You see this is where the problem lies. I may not have been that spoiled financially, but I think I was emotionally. I expect help from anyone and their bed bug. My inability to solve my issues because I can’t see them clearly leads me to seek ideas from anyone that will give them and that’s dangerous. 

Someone once said to me that I should stop putting things in boxes. You know? The piles that the organised mind needs to be functional. It’s how we prioritise. Facing some imagined crisis, I followed this advice. It took three months before I realised that it was a terrible thought from an unstable human-being. That one decision quite literally fucked up a significant area of my life. It set off a bomb that I’m still dealing with. Sometimes you see yourself dash from pillar to post and you can’t figure out what part of life you’re fucking up at - not without hindsight. Then I’ll hear someone calling me brave for talking about depression and maybe it’s true for them, but it isn’t true for me.

Bravery for me is something more than talking, or writing. It’s finding the balls to make a decision and stick with it. It’s my sister waking up at 5 to revise for an exam a month away everyday without fail. It’s handling your shit with everything that you’ve got. It’s living your truth unflinchingly. It is being diligent in your work regardless of who’s looking. 


I’ve got this belief that everytime I blog about something that I’m going through it means that it’s been handled and that the door has been closed. This is clearly not the case. The Ramblings of a Madman makes me crazy. Some times it’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me and some times it’s the biggest mistake of my life. But this is the thing I keep saying. Everyday is a new beginning bursting at the seams with opportunities if you’re brave enough to take them. There’s a new page at the end of every sunset, and that my friends is the most beautiful thing about being alive. You are never finished, and you’re never done. The only thing to do is be brave enough to continue. 

 Happy New Year,
Afam
Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels:

Happy New Year!! May your bow be sturdy and your engine swift

14:49:00
 Yesterday evening I sat on the family boat and began the hour long trip back to Lagos. I had gone to Badagry to see my grandparents who live there. Sometimes I seem to go a lot, and some times I seem to go very little, but I live knowing that I have a home there. There’s something about it that calls me. It could be the call of blood. Their home is a legacy that I’ll receive happily. As my oldest living relatives their stories are the most precious histories. I would be foolish to not grasp what I can while I can. As strong as the call of blood is there’s also the call of the Lagoon. It is the bit of Lagos that I hold most dear. I have swam in it, wake boarded in it, and fished in it. It’s like an old friend. 
We started the journey with a long U turn cutting a path through the water hyacinth. It was a slow turn, we had to make sure that the sea weed didn’t get stuck in the propellers. We were lucky. The boat made it through unscathed. The boat soon found a patch of clear water and thundered homeward with its two 250 horse power engines. I sat out on the deck leaving the cabin for my more nervous cousins. An accomplished sailor and swimmer, there is nothing in the brackish water to fear. The sun set behind us. Its light blocked in part by the harmattan haze. We were sun-kissed in scarlet, fuchsia and amber against a light orange sky; the prettiest colours the Lagos sunset has to offer. 
Our boat raced on but the journey wasn’t smooth. There were bits of the water that were choppy for reasons vastly out of our control, and there were bits of it that were as flat as a mirror. Regardless of the water’s state, we shot our best shot never once lifting our hands from the throttle. There were times that the boat seemed to clear the water given lift off by the waves left by the passing of another boat. As uncomfortable as the bouncing was we didn’t stop, and we didn’t slow. If we took too long we would lose the light, left to make the journey through the lagoon with no light and an endless fog. 

There were birds behind us making a different trip in a similar direction. For a time, the distance between us and them grew with every propeller rotation and then it stopped growing. While we navigated through shallow waters and the deep, banking left and turning right, they flew straight until we were overtaken. It is likely that they didn’t even notice us, an old trawler on older sea. I knew that our races were different, but still I looked to the captain and thought, “Can you not go faster?” I looked to the engines and thought, “Can you give more?” They couldn’t. The engines gave the best of their 500 horse power, to exceed that would be treacherous. We would gain on the birds for a time but after a while one of them would tell us with a blinking alert on the dashboard the last words any man wants to hear. “I cannot continue.” We stuck to our pace knowing that sooner or later we would make land fall where we planned. This was the most important part of the journey. 
It was good that we had our hired hands: the captain and his assistant. I may be skilled with a jib, a main sail, and figuring out the path and direction of the wind but I know nothing about motor boats. It looks easy enough. Push the throttle till the boat moves, but these things are always more complicated than they seem. I revelled in the fact that if asked to I could drive the boat and delighted in the fact that it was unnecessary. The captain and his comrade would do twice the job I could. 

We stopped somewhere along the way. A bit of trash had got stuck in the propellers. The sound of the engine changed a fraction. It’s so subtle that you would miss it if you were not looking. The boat jolted still and we put it in reverse. To continue with the obstruction could spell certain death for the boat. When we dislodged the bit of filth we continued like nothing had happened. 

Along the way came a challenge of a different sort: Tin Can Island and the Apapa Port, the point where the lagoon meets the open sea. The waves are bigger and the ride is significantly rougher, but we trudge on without batting an eyelid. It was simply another obstruction ultimately unworthy of note. With our engines, and our captains, and the edge of our bow (the front end of the boat) the waters were parted and the journey continued. 

We made it back to the dock in good time and in one piece, tired but complete. The boat undamaged and its passengers intact. The story of the boat as long and pointless as it may seem has several similarities to life. 

There are patches of water hyacinth, you must take care to cross them. There are inexplicable bits of calm and turmoil, you must know that they’ll come regardless of what you do and fire your way through them. You’ll see other people moving faster than you, or better than you, but their journey and yours are not one and the same. Along the way you will pick up bits of filth. They’ll stick with you like garbage and bring you down. When that happens the only thing to do is reverse so you can go forward. It’ll seem like a regression at the time but soon enough you’ll move forward unrestricted. There’ll be waters deeper than you think you should be able to handle but is your bow not sturdy and is your engine not swift? Stay the course and you’ll make it home. 

This is how I’ll be treating the new year. 2016 was immeasurably difficult and I don’t know what challenges 2017 will bring. I live knowing that the course is onward and upward, that my bow is sturdy and my engine swift. 

Happy New Year,

Afam. 
Continue Reading
0
No comments:
Labels: ,

About Us

Recent

Random