What is the price of TRUTH? (a penny for your thoughts…)

Act 1 Scene 1:

Enter three characters, Stella, James, and Susan. Stella and James are romantically involved, while Susan is best friends with them both, separately.

Stella: I still can’t believe you hurt me the way you did? Besides everything else, we are first and foremost, friends, and I expect that you would be true to me at all times and not be the one to make me cry, it really hurts when I think of how deeply you hurt me

James: Seriously, what have I done wrong dear, our friendship matters a lot to me as well, hence my putting myself in rather difficult situations sometimes, just to get you to hear and understand what is in fact, the truth. When we started the affair, I told you that I was not prepared for any emotional commitments, and you agreed to it... we even coined the term best friends with the best benefits... together

Stella: I know, that is not the issue here. You broke my heart and threw my emotions in my face, you led me on and then pulled the carpet off from under my feet! you lied to me.

James: Wow!  That’s deep... do you recall how you always threw fits and became moody each time we talked about us and you said u loved me and I didn’t reply? Do you recall how many times you cried when I reminded you that you meant the whole world to me, as a friend and more, but nothing emotional?  the conversations you had with Stella about us, and how I was making you cry by not opening up my heart to you?

Stella (cutting in) Yes I do.

James: Well, I chose to keep you happy by playing along with you and saying everything you wanted to hear , and each time, I pointed out that I just said them to prevent you from crying. 

Stella (hmmmmm)

James: Yes Stel, it hurt each time I had to lie about it, but that was the only way to peace and that was all you wanted to hear, to you, saying those things were the truth, and all that mattered... was I then supposed to watch you cry day in day out? Even when we stopped, you seemed to suddenly hate me... it seemed the only way to keep being friends, was to keep giving you what you wanted to hear, even at the risk of me lying to you.

Stella: But you shouldn’t have lied still, I always appreciate the truth and I can handle the truth when it doesn’t hurt and when it is not thrown in my face... sometimes, we want to be lied to because it gives us something to hope for and look forward to while we try to make you into what we hope for...

James (now totally exasperated): are you for real?!  I pushed and prodded until I had to lie to you for peace to reign; now you tell me you can handle the truth? I am guessing this is why men assume women speak from both sides of their mouths sometimes:

A week earlier, the following conversation Act 1 Scene 2 had taken place:

RESULT = the crying and wailing were averted, peace seemed to reign, James kept up the façade and everyone seemed happy

Yesterday, the following conversation Act 1, Scene 3 ensued:

 





RESULT = a sad painful end to the friendship

I am guessing the real question here is: who is really to blame for the present situation? Stella, James, or both?

A penny for your thoughts, please.

..of local flights and frustrations (a feel of local air-travel in Nigeria)

Tick-tuck, tick-tuck, tick-tuck....

Tick tuck says the clock, what you have to do, do quick.....

Yes, as kids, this message drummed to, we were. Today November 21, 2009, I questioned it, and the rationale for it...

I questioned the sanity of the average Nigerian....(My definition of insane: simple, mumusciously accepting and tolerating acts of random stupidity) and smiling..., and be expected to remain calm.

The scene, the old domestic wing of the MM airport Lagos, the cast, the immaculately clad staff of A***k Air, the raving throng of certifiably Insane customers, and then, myself.

In my subconscious, I hear the director shuffle in his seat.. And in a calm commanding voice...'Take your positions! Light, camera action....

Enter stage left, the ticketing and counter staff of A***k Air, it is 30 minutes to flight take-off, calm and confident... The manager (some questionable fellow called Kazeemson Ayindeyo) strolls in, smiling, the counter is in disarray... People shouting, and waving tickets in the air, angrily....

We breathe a sigh of relief... Monija! Monija! Monija... I am amused, somewhat.. I turn, and see a middle aged football-like woman, gelle and all, for a split second, my thoughts drift to lagbaja (remember him? The musician, who covers his face and hides behind a mask..., I hear he stole some kid's chocomilo and has been in hiding ever since.) 

Focus! My mind calls out!


Monija! Monija mi! Epppp me, epppp me pliss, my ticket e go expire o....! Then it hit me, like a thunderbolt ... These tickets, if not converted to boarding passes, would, like a can of opened unused evaporated milk..... Expire!?!

We push forward, tickets in hand... He, Ayindeyo, in his most self-absorbed voice, asks for our tickets, and we oblige...

As if connected to a loudspeaker..... Tick tuck, tick tuck.... we hear the clock..... 8am strikes the clock, still struggling for boarding passes for a 7.30am flight.

Restless and impatient, we let loose... Behind me stands a lady, a celebrity I recognise, in the same queue and struggling on the same line....she whispers softly still... Am sure if there were more ladies here, it wouldn't be this chaotic.

Hmmmmmmm, now that's a thought, considering that the mêlée was caused by the professional ineptitude and legendary rudeness of a female ticketing staff that had since withdrawn to a corner to admire the chaos that is her masterpiece...

Anyways, as we push forward still, the counter creaking from our combined weight... here stands Mr Ayindeyos.. Suddenly, swiftly, he throws a hand up and commands silence!...or was that (gesture) a heil Hitler salute perhaps? (I ask myself)

Then I saw it, not quite sure what it was, but I saw it... The sweat patch under his arm, where his armpit should be.... are those dreadlocks struggling to make their presence felt through his shirt’s underarm? Brown-colored dreadlocks perhaps? I cringe...

Then he smiles as if to savour, once again, the extent of his power over helpless customers who had paid to get on a flight, but who are now subjected to begging, groveling and idol-worshiping Ayinde-Mr. Monija!

(I saw it, his brown uneven teeth, crooked from... okay, freeze frame!: how would I know where those teeth could possibly have been...?!

Someone behind me whispers... I hear they got that way from him chewing high-tension wires (interesting, I think to myself, so Ayinde Mr. monija is also the cause of the power outage in most parts of Lagos?!) Finally, the solution to our PHCN woes is at hand... Not by increasing our generating capacity, but rather, simply by confining Ayinde mr.-monija to Aro Mental.

His dark brown teeth shine proudly through his smile, he must have, I am sure, taken extreme care to polish his teeth, to an immaculate rich brown hue... 

An hour later, and having basked in a sea of musky, sweaty, and upset fellows, I finally get my boarding pass... then the chase begins...

I see an aircraft, what are they doing to it I ask? It's called a pre-flight safety check... Is that why the landing gear seems to be putting on sprint shoes!? - I ask myself.

Over the public address speakers... Someone clears her throat, and we hear the all too familiar voice of miss hot potato in her throat (you know her don't you? The one that makes all airport announcements in Nigeria, in a way that she and only she can understand what she is saying) at least we have been able to successfully clone her in all our airports, well done FAAN!

"All checked-in passengers on A***k flight 123 should please proceed for boarding"... (I managed to make out what she said this time, surprise!)

We proceeded to the boarding gate. As if on cue, we all begin a sprint for the aircraft... And wait for it..... So does the craft! Aha! I think to myself, the aircraft landing gear did have running shoes on!

In my hurry I try to read the writing on the craft, A***k, greed of......, or is it fools of Nigeria, I am unsure, uncertain, it is all a blur.

We finally reach the sad subdued aircraft and board it.

My thought strays to Ayinde, to the gele-clad woman, to my fellow sprinters... I buckle in and attempt to drift into sleep... but I cannot.

We fly, we land; hard and bumpy, but we land.... the pilot (who I fondly nicknamed Mr. Tipsy kangaroo (as only a tipsy kangaroo can possibly bounce that many times in one landing), oblivious to our pain and frustrations asks:

“I hope you have had a wonderful experience flying with us today, thank you for choosing A***k Air, looking forward to welcoming you on board again....”

we all dwell on his words for a few seconds...then, as if on cue, the tears flow as we realise that he was indeed right, no matter how poorly treated we were today, he would indeed be welcoming us again, and soon... beggars they say, have no choices.

End Notes: Have you had a not-so-pleasant experience with an air carrier, local or international? would like to read about your experiences as well. Comment below.

for Oluwaremilekun - I look to you

Though I never show it
And though I never may
I think of you, always
In the fondest way

Your smile and laughter
The memory of our first encounter

A smile of gold you truly have
My heart you melt with every sound you utter

My darling, my lover my friend
I look to you when I am happy
I turn to you when I am uncertain

When the music stops and it is all still and calm
… then I still look to you.

I look to you when no one is there..
I look to you when I need someone dear
I look to you every moment of every day

Not cos i have to, but cos i want to..

.. your love has left me speechless but tamed.


November 11, 2009. Olufemi Ashipa ©

Idiocy, the mother of invention...?

Stop! Park!, he barked..

Clad in black, like the devil.. a demon… filth, no.. no roll-on (me thinks)

I oblige, hesitant, thoughts racing

Do I have all I would need
My papers, my sanity and something to give…?

Slowly he approaches, gun totting.. frowning
The gentleman that I am, I smile, I stretch forth my hand for a handshake

Who you be?, he bellows.. (WTF, me thinks)
Your papers and particulars (aren’t they one and the same… me thinks)
I oblige.

Open your booth! Do you mean that of my car, I ask, puzzled…yes! (he barks)
He sees the spare-tyre, my shoes, a walkie talkie, my cutlass (camera in my brain zooms-in and focuses on the cutlass)… he stops, looks at it, blood stained and dripping….

He looks on..my laptop, my books, my smiling-deaf, mute-Rottweiler..(me hopes he is not a dog-lover, for i am in for it now, a dog stuffed in my car booth...hmm).
Then he speaks, strong and stern! I panic…

Wait for it…. Wait for it… wait for it….

Where is the receipt of the laptop he screams, where is your fire extinguisher and the tyres-rims!

At this point, I am perplexed, stunned… I offer a suggestion to him: look at the dripping cutlass…
‘do not teach me my job, he barks”, foolery, idiocy, nincompoop… he mutters

He walks off, and I am dismayed

Then it hits me…I am with my keys, my papers and my car, the lane is free, my destination afar
Of ethics and decency, he bothers not, as he hints softly… oga, any betta na?

My receipts I do not have, my destination afar,
Officer, brother, I say, oya come let us ponder, together, here is a little something for you...

Like lightning he reappears, for once, I can commend.

Speed, agility, passion, dedication, commitment….. all for wanting…
… wanting for a little something, I now suddenly consider giving

Ever vigilant, he assists me to cross the road, like brothers, friends of old, like partners, he helps me cross the road…

My heart tugs at the turn-ups of my well-ironed trousers.. em, my cutlass I ask (hesitant).. did you not notice my bloody cutlass…?

Ah yes! He says…
Careful sah, ketchup rusts metal, and causes red dark stains.

End.

Exploring the depth of your M-Factor

Ever wondered about the rationale behind some of your jaw-gaping-slap-demanding decisions? 

Well, it is simple; situations such as this as well as all other acts of random foolishness and stupidity are a reflection of the scope and level of our innate M-Factor®, also called Mumu Factor®.

So, what are the signs that you are under the influence...? simple:

• It is raining, you are carrying a brand new umbrella as a gift for someone, and putting all common sense at the bottom of the sea, you preserve a brand new umbrella and get soaked to your teeth.
• You get hit by a parked car or by a NITEL or NEPA pole
• You get attacked by your jeans or shirt while you are getting dressed
• You are asked to give a speech at a funeral and you end it with a toast screaming ‘happy birthday’  and grinning from ear to ear (like my Bush finally took a sensible decision).

If you have done, experienced, or been with someone who has done or is plagued by situations of this nature or similar situations with the same outcome... you have had a taste of M-Factor® at work.

The M-Factor principle explains quite a lot, simply put, it is that factor X that at every point P or time T makes you feel good about random acts of foolishness or stupidity. It is that sense of pride you feel at the end of accomplishing that one act that leaves all of mankind wondering if you were long-marinated in a bowl of complex stupidity as a baby.

So many examples exist in history:

Adolf Hitler 
He started a race/hate campaign that resulted in the extermination of over six million Jews in what he termed 'the final solution" (In its entirety, the "Final Solution" called for the murder of all European Jews by gassing, shooting, and other means) but lo and behold, he was the spawn of Jewish seed himself!! so, he caused the death of about 50 million people directly or indirectly just to prove a point to the world, that

• He wasn't Jewish and
• The Germans, the Aryan race (as they liked to call the purebred) were the most superior race on earth in cerebral capacity and technological development.......

erm, didn’t the Aryan race kinda lose the Second World War and go through an even more humiliating and this time, enforced shame-filled-disarmament??!

Boyzone singer Stephen Gately  
He choked to death on his own vomit after a night of drinking at a gay club.

King Alexander 1 of Greece  
He died from a bite he sustained while defending his pet dog from his pet monkeys!!

Kenneth Pinyan (1960-2005) 
Was killed while having receptive sex with a stallion (horse)

Kenneth Pinyan was a Gig Harbor, Washington (a suburb in the greater Seattle-Tacoma area) resident and was a prolific Boeing employee who engaged in receptive anal sex with full-size stallions at a farm near the city of Enumclaw. He videotaped those sex acts and distributed them informally under the name Mr. Hands. 

 

During a July 2005 sex act, which was being videotaped by a friend of his, he suffered a perforated colon and later died of his injuries. The story was reported in The Seattle Times and was one of that paper’s most-read stories of 2005. Pinyan’s death prompted the passing of a bill in Washington State prohibiting both sex with animals, and the videotaping of the same, some months later.

Aeschylus (525 BC – 455 BC) 

A turtle was dropped on his head by an eagle

As legend has it, an eagle, mistaking the playwright’s bald crown for a stone, dropped a tortoise on his head (though some accounts differ, claiming it was a stone dropped by an eagle or vulture that mistook his bald head for the egg of a flightless bird).

Well, in this case, the Eagle was quite the dumber of the two (the eagle subsequently confessed to the crime of M-Factor induced Murder after it was apprehended drunk in a bar, wallowing in self-pity). 

I am guessing that you just sighed in amazement, didn't you? Amazed at how remarkable some of the M-Factor-driven acts truly are, and also how remarkable some of your not-so-famous gaffes are?

Care to share some of your classic M-Factor moments too? 

Let’s have your thoughts and comments.

How much information about your past, should you reveal to your partner?

Recently, I overheard a couple arguing within an inch of their lives, the husband had packed a few bags, had removed his wedding ring and was moving out of their home.

 …. Apparently, after a night of passionate love making, breakfast in bed and all the works, their sudden rekindled fire was abruptly extinguished in a moment of recklessness during the morning-after-pillow talk

The Cast:

• Husband     (manly man)
• Wife            (Shy, innocent, loving)
• Me              (???)

(Husband) so, darling, I am glad I met you. it is so comforting to know that I can always count on you whenever and wherever you are probably the best thing that ever happened to me

(Wife, blushing) thank you, dear, you know you are the centre of my world and I am your ultimate fan and lover, here to support and satisfy you always

(Husband) I can imagine how difficult it was for you for those two years I was away in the UK for my MBA, you called me every evening and we talked for hours.. just as we are talking now

(Wife blushing) I know, those were trying times my love, I wished I could just wish myself into your arms and I would be there with you. I was kept going, by the way I felt for you, and the memories we had made together…  becoming your wife made the wait all worth it.

----they kiss, and hug---

(Husband) by the way, Akin and his fiancée had a fight, apparently, she lied to him and he found out, something she apparently did before they got married; I think couples should always tell the truth no matter what

(Wife) Really, that’s sad, well, they say the truth sets you free.. thankfully we have stayed true to each other, and will continue to be that way. So, is there anything in your past that you didn’t tell me, that I should know about?

(Husband) Nothing serious, I once had a brief affair with Tolani, the slender girl in your office, it was one night of indiscretion, and I think I mentioned it to you back then (wife sighs heavily) you forgave me for that already (he thinks to himself… I mean that was the naughtiest 12 months with Tolani as my little secret – he remembers the secret encounters in the office elevator the day after he proposed to his wife, and a cold content chill runs down his spine)… and you?

(Wife) you know I keep nothing from you, and you are my best friend and confidant, (husband nods), I have only one secret that has burdened my heart. I guess saying it today would lift a weight off my chest.

(Husband) Hmm, we shouldn’t keep anything from each other, love can handle all things, besides (he thinks to himself- I married a virgin; I know I was her first, I remember our  wedding night, besides, she is so introverted, so how bad could this be?)

(Wife) you remember Steven, my childhood friend, the one that used to lend me his mobile phone to call you and all of that, who I said lost his girlfriend two years ago in an accident? Well, there was this day he came over and was really sad because he got robbed while wandering aimlessly around thinking of her; you should have seen him that day (husband sight, impatiently) well, he eventually came over to mine, and mum cooked for him before going out. He was bleeding and so I had to treat his wounds before he slept off in my arms.

(Husband) Hmm, I have always known you were caring and supportive and would always bend over backward to help your friends, that’s one of the qualities that really got me hooked on you. I hope Steve recovered sha, but that isn’t at all bad.

(Wife cuts in) well, he was so vulnerable and didn’t want to be alone, one thing led to another, and I- I- I (whispering ever so softly now) slept with him 

(Husband cuts in) as in, you guys just slept in the same bed right?!

(Wife sobbing uncontrollably now) I am so ashamed dear, so ashamed to sometimes admit to myself that it even happened.  it rained that night and it was cold, and we were in bed asleep and I was missing you and wanting you so much, and somehow I got lost in the moment, he was wearing the same cologne I bought you, the one I told u ‘does it for me” (wife sobbing now),  the whole room smelt like you and I woke up and realized that it wasn’t you I that I had made love to during the night; I have been unable to look him in the eye ever since and I cut off all correspondence with him.

(Wife still sobbing) I know it’s a lot to take in at the moment, but in the spirit of not keeping secrets within us, please forgive me.

Husband: silence

Wife: silence

Me: Runs into the street yelling "haaaaaaaaa!!!! ara adugbo e wa di weyrey mu o!!!" (in Yoruba)

-end-

1.     Did she really need to reveal that much?

2.     Should he forgive her in the spirit of full disclosure?

3.     Where should we draw the line on ‘truth telling’ in relationships?

We have all been raised to believe in all sorts of clichés, and one such is what played out here; truth be told, in relationships, truth is truth in the context of what is being said, where it is being said and to whom it is being said.  

Then again, why bother, right?

Big Brother: The power of sex and other shenanigans

What’s your flavour? 

When it comes to matters or relating to the bedroom, there is no doubt that there is a stony embarrassed silence that ensures that there is just about enough mystery to keep the fire burning in every human heart. The bees do it. The dogs do it. The birds do it. The cows do it. The elephants do it. Snakes do it. Doves do it. And none of these do it in a room, under the cover of darkness, or hidden in any way. So, why do men (and women) have to wear such a cloak of secrecy for this natural God-given ‘thing’?

The question above is valid. What are we hiding? Why are we in such a hurry to hide it all? Why are we so ‘coded’ and so hidden? Our ‘shame’ simply perpetuates different myths and gives people different perceptions of this really natural and right act. 

I am yet unaware of any other act in the world that has received the worst sort of publicity ever. Sex has been demonized, tortured, abused, battered, criminalized, etc. through the ages. There has been no negative word that has been left upheaped on this normal God-ordained act. 

It is as old as creation itself as it apparently was created at creation. Whether described as man/woman or male/female, masculine/feminine, or any of the other direct opposite words by which various creations in history have been known. Night and day is one. Heaven and earth is another. Light and darkness have also been used. Land and sea. And ultimately, Adam and Eve. All these in the first few books of the bible! Every other religion of course has what it calls its own male/female; positive/negative.

To think that in the beginnings, Adam and Eve for instance must have been having mad sex all the time especially before their eyes ‘opened’ and then as soon as their eyes ‘opened’ God punished them with kids! And is it even remotely possible that Cain killed Abel because of a woman?

 According to the bible, A&E were the first people so there must have been few women C&A’s age so the jealousy could surely have started from Cain wanting what his younger brother had so good. Speculations. But anyway, the bible is full of such stories of sex used for good, sex for sex sake and sex used for bad. And suddenly sex was no longer good. Until such a time as it became that sex was only officially sanctioned between ‘married’ couples. And even then, it had to be done away from all eyes and talk of it must never ‘openly’ occur.

And what has that done? It has helped to turn sex into a multi-zillion currency business. Everyday, everywhere, we trade in sex and pretend that we are not doing any of that. We glorify sex and use our bodies in inappropriate ways to try and get appropriate things. The man or woman who’s involved in the actual act is not the only one ‘guilty’. You are just as guilty if you so much look at a woman ‘somehow’. Or vice versa. In which case, no human being will go to heaven. 

You are guilty if you dress really nice for ‘yourself’ ‘cos others will see your dressing as nice, desire you and then they and you are headed to hell. And the greatest sinners for who the cheerleading positions in hell would be reserved have to be all those women who cover completely including their face leaving just a window to see through because surely they are chief perpetuators of the mystery of sex and would tend to inspire more lustful thoughts in men or other women than those who place their flesh on display!

I am not saying we should all begin having sex in the open. I’m just saying that we should stop making such a big deal of sex. I think we should talk about it as openly as we discuss other topics. And I don’t mean that we should do that in a bawdy manner either. I’m advocating that we should be open about sex. Talk about it. Celebrate it. 

Recognize its pivotal position in humanity. The one instance where one holy book talked of a man born without sex has left the world sharply polarized to date. We have a powerful tool in sex; if only we could use it well. If only we could have mastered the art of adapting it for our good use over millennia rather than vilifying it and turning it into this hideous master that must be worshipped, carried out surreptitiously under the cover of darkness in the best tradition of cloak and dagger games! 

Imagine if, like most of the problems plaguing mankind, we had managed to find a workable and non-shame-filled solution to the sex problem? Wouldn’t it be dandy for instance if men and women could do away with sexual tensions between them by agreeing on upfront, as a norm, what they want from each other and at want point they want it and to what extent? 

Would it be really so bad if you could lay sex aside and deal constructively with each other? I believe that if we could convert the constantly generated and wasted sexual energy of this world into food, there would be no poverty in the world. And if we convert our sexual frustrations into energy, we would generate enough productive-use-energy to light up our planet brighter than the sun and still not fear global warming!

We are wasting away and we know it. We just don’t know what to do about it yet. Our biggest resources lie within us and we can’t even explore them or mine them to the surface and make good of them.

We will surely continue to be as we are. We will not really be any better. We will forever ‘hide’ sex and cry out in horror whenever it rears its ugly, ugly head in acts such as assault, molesting, rape, perverted behaviour, infidelity, dishonesty, death, covetousness, jealousy, back-biting, deviant behaviour, immorality, amorality and other such anomalies.

And we will all continue to be candidates for ‘hell’. Not just the ‘hell’ of fiery fire somewhere between heaven and earth, but the forever erupting and living volcanic hell that dwells in each and every one of us; the one sure hell that can truly destroy us.

Authored by Yinka Ijabiyi