Carry Your Yoke Now

While making a 6.4k run with #nikerunning this morning, I saw this small figure jogging towards me. It was a boy about 7-8 years old (definitely not more) in his work out clothes and a jacket around 6am hitting the road alone. There was no one ahead of him but I noticed and adult and another girl about 14 years old coming about 10-15 metres behind him who I suppose were his companions. I was wowed.

My awe came from the realisation that I know adults who feel waking up at 6am to prepare for an 8am appointment is punishment –  now that is acceptable if you are a multimillionaire who is satisfied with your “arrival”.
I know adults who I fear may miss their own wedding due to their lack of time management abilities – “No vex, this one no get any single situation wey e fit dey acceptable”.
I also know people who at less than 30 do not want to do any exercise beyond eating their own meals – “My friend, you do not deserve that food and soon your laziness may take the food, the plate and cutlery and even the bed you lay on to eat away from you”.

Now this is a poke, and If any of my “fictional” analogies seem inspired by your case, believe me, with 100% veracity I say it is you! Vex! So that you can start #MakingTheFutureToday.

I’ll close with a saying from my Pastor, Dr. Erasmus Ameh-Wealth, “Carry your yoke now that you are Young” lest you lose strength when you are older


We Cannot All Be Feminists – Nel Ibuola

Yegazie has a video on YouTube, I watched it last weekend. As the video began, she emphasized it was no response to another video of same title, that seemed to have been released earlier by another user on the same website.
I had thought then that the disclaimer was needless, until I began to work on this writing and I see how much I am compelled, mostly by social nobility, to dissociate this work from that of Chimamanda- which I believe you probably have read or heard. Stories and words are powerful and they belong to nobody.


The intention to uphold a universal equity between genders is beautiful and admirable, so I like feminism and think we all should. We all should LIKE feminism.
By our civilization, we have come to understand better the position of sexes; that I can write not because I am a man, that I can cook well not because I am a woman. Our function and positions are not defined from or by our sexes, we should understand. We cannot and must not attempt to stretch further any idea that perceives a person is better by only the chance of their gender, something they entirely had no choice over, we should understand.
A man is a man not because the penis is superior to the vagina, no, by no definition is a penis even close to as beautiful and potentially valuable as a vagina is. And sure, testosterones, baritone and muscle bulks dont make him almighty, they are all easily matched by Estrogens, alto and fatty curves. A woman is the most beautiful of creatures, we should not argue this, her gait and gaze glisten. No human or its form is more superior than another simply by their gender. If the topic of superiority should come up in a future, I’d tell you intelligence, forbearance and hardwork always dwarfs gender. Every human is equal, unique and different, that is the idea feminism stands for.
I believe entirely in the grand agenda of feminism, but I have a problem with ‘new-age feminists’ . I do not celebrate them, I should, but I cannot. I cannot celebrate people who have corrupted an idea so ingenious and noble as feminism. Since 1895, when the words were first inked, several females have risen to attempt to claim its glory, each striving to both redefine and possess it. A lot of beautiful names with glorious memories have worked to make the idea even more noble and genuine, Adrienne Rich has done more for feminism than Thomas Edison for electricity, and her papers provoke proper reasoning. But I cannot say same of French Feminist Valeri Jean Solanas, greatly applauded as a “heroine”, “woman-right champion” and even termed by Florynce Kennedy as the “most important spokeswoman of the feminist movement”. Valeri continuously and popularly said “To call a man an animal is to flatter him, he is a machine,  a walking dildo… And deep down, every man knows he is a worthless piece of shit”. Those were the moment Feminists began to decay in perspective and the new-age feminists emerged. A theory that purely strived for equity was corrupted.
Feminists from then began mostly to thirst for gender-superiority, to become same as the monster they repelled. It saw imbalance in everything and craved for an abolishment, the way people sit in buses, how they hold cellphones, road signs and name initials. Each time it spots these imbalance, it doesnt strive for a balance, it mostly will request the same imbalance is repeated in its favour. Put the woman to the right, Place her head upwards and his also downwards, O that colour isnt woman friendly, its all neutral.
Facebook recently changed its icons and sure I noticed, but I hadnt noticed the details responsive to New-age Feminists demand, the friend request icon. In the old icon, a silhouette of a man was in front and to the left, his shoulders etched into the woman, feminists were uncomfortable with this, I was too. So following several debates and papers, facebook was pressured to make new icons that placed the woman in front and to the left, as large as the man and her shoulder etched into him. That wasnt equity if he now stand behind her, and under the shadows of her shoulder, thats superiority.
In the earlier parts of this work, I had made straight as an arrow that I do not support, and is discomforted by ideas that project superiority based on gender or equally flimsy details, by extension now, I am discomforted by feminists and cannot respect them. A movement that now foster gender hatred and superiority is not to be celebrated, even in the most dysfunctional community.
Feminist are not an equity conscious group, they have emerged as a hate group, and soon Mothers will begin to despise their sons, only for their ‘unfortunate’ masculinity.
Clearly, we cannot all belong to a movement that breeds gender hatred.
– – –
At the end of the video, Yegazie turned heads down, her Afro concealed her trunk almost entirely, her svelte upper limbs sparce on each side, then she said “Mehn, I’m looking buff mehn. I’m looking buff”.
Hilarious self-obsession, just like feminism.

Nel Ibuola writes, studies and lives in Jos. He is currently working on his second blog-novel which you can read here. This is one of the works in his building compendium – Shrinks and Madmen.
He is on Twitter and Instagram as @n_ibuola

Talk about her


I do not remember how it all started but there she was. A little shy of 6 feet, she stood. She loves the braids, a fro or low cuts. With every style she looks like the inventor. A look into her eyes is colourful. Her smile; a genre of music. The way she walks makes the Queen a learner. With those steps she walked into my life. My lady is beauty. She is the template.


She speaks to me. We talk. The world stands still. Her voice is soothing, like the Angels on high. Maybe, she is one come to me. Her speech is faultless. No cynicism comes from her; she is an optimist. Her words carry power, authority, yet, she is gentle, never rude. Wisdom gathered from ages of insatiable quest for knowledge flows from her lips; from her actions. She believes in my dream, I believe in hers; we share a dream, what she wants I want, What I want, she wants. My lady reads my mind, I read hers. We understand each other. We are together.


She is my music and I am hers. I love it when she raps along me, even though missing words from my favourite rap songs. I cherish when she writes love songs about us. We tango, salsa, we cha cha. The ever changing Nigerian dance steps, she teaches me. She loves to dance and I’m ever ready to waltz her. When I let go of her –  she is confident, proud, strong, courageous, she is intimidating; yet meek, humble, kind hearted, she is patient –  she always dances her way back to me. Even though capable on our own, we are complete with each other.


I can be annoying, sometimes. She isn’t perfect either. We have our fights, the pillows and sometimes the silent treatment. she sometimes says she hates me but her dreamy eyes always tells the truth. I tease her, she teases me. The fights always end before its even noticed. The make-up is always sexy. She is perfect for me.


She loves to pray. My own loves God. She is spiritual, she is not spooky. She is a believer, she is not religious. She is disciplined, a great mother. Our children adore her, my mother loves her. She is an awesome home keeper, she is hardworking. My lady is beautiful, smart, she is funny and kind. She is worth more than rubies, diamonds and pearls. She is worthy of my love. She means the world to me. She is with me what ever may be, she changes my world, forever.


She makes me love every day as it’s sure she is by me.  She is my high. She is my Ecstasy. She is my head cheerleader. My swimsuit model. I trust her. She brings me good. No harm.

I love my lady, my lady loves me.

I open my eyes, my love is no where to be found. I worry not. She is on her way. Won’t be a moment late. But while I wait, I build myself, to a gentleman. A man worthy of her, My love.


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A couple of days back, on Friday to be precise, three friends of mine and i left the Gym and were on our way home when I suggested we visit the market so i could get something to cook. At the market, I started to buy random things, things not consistent with any particular soup. I hadn’t made my mind up on what I was going to cook, but I knew I wanted to cook and I was going to.
Thinking about that incident today, i realise that sometimes in my life I act as though I do not care about what comes out of what I do (as a matter of fact at such times I care most but just choose to be unmindful no matter what the outcome may be). I just go about my business perching where I find fit. At such times I find myself almost always getting the most favourable results. Even when I don’t get favourable results I find myself happy anyways.
On the other hand, sometimes I find myself really serious, so concerned about what the outcome of my actions may be that I get jittery, nervous and as flexible as an iron bar. On many of those instances, I’ve gotten unfavourable results and i end up sad with gloom spelt perfectly on my face.
This is my first original post this year and I’ll like to use this medium to send a pretty simple message; its a new year and we know not exactly what lies ahead, thus the title of my post. I believe a lot of people like myself are hopeful of a year better than the last and we all will experience different things daily, though sometimes, life will try to force us to get too serious and worry about the uncertainties, I’ll like to say “Certainty is relieving, but uncertainty isn’t always bad. Sometimes, there is more fun in going with the flow. Don’t take life too serious, enjoy it”.

Here is a picture of what I ended up with on Saturday by the way.


Spontaneity got me this.

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The Only Bank in Town

The Only Bank Town.

One with high illiteracy rate and high dependence on the government

Local Government

One with estimated population of over 300,000 people, high illiteracy rate and blessed with abundant fertile land.
The major sources of income are farming, political “cake sharing” and government employment

On this occasion, salary was paid on friday last week, the bank was closed on monday and teusday and somehow there was no money in the only ATM in town for a while.

How is all this my business?
I’ve come to the bank three times and couldn’t stand the crowd. I had to come to the ATM early in the morning to make a withdrawal…..I’m just saying

What is your worst ATM experience? We would love to know.

Thanks for the time spared to read this. Please endeavor to leave your thoughts, views and/or comments behind. Your feedback is highly appreciated.
Iyimoga Eli.