Skip to main content

Of Sallah break, rainy days and Clinton's fall


Is it just me or did the sallah break come at the best of times? 

Amidst the deliverables of work and everyday living, my biggest concern over the last two weeks had been the impending resumption. It's not that my children are resuming school, neither am I a teacher or anything of the sort. I am just a Lagos dweller shivering in anticipation of the post-resumption traffic that hits Lagos like a wave. The frenzy is so thick it can be touched. Parents and school busses competing to get sleep-ridden children to school before the day even breaks. Horns blaring, words flying, everyone rushing, no one succumbing. And you can hardly blame them, sleep deprived people who left their houses before the cock could crow only to get caught in the same traffic they were trying to beat, exasperating. Totally exasperating.

Hence, for me, the holiday felt like a good transition into the hustle and bustle of traffic season. Two days of quality sleep and a Wednesday to start the week, no better way to ease into stress.

What did you do with the holidays? I slept and cooked and slept some more, aided by the rains. There were a few places I needed to be, between the rains and other occurrences, I hardly made it anywhere. Stepped out briefly on Monday to see the world partying and jiving. The streets were filled, cars everywhere, music jamming, tunes fighting to be heard. The irony of it, the most dreaded day became the most enjoyed day. In the middle of all that, some mischievous content marketing expert heavily paid perhaps by Trump's PR agency (does he even have one?) had succeeded in circulating a video of Hillary collapsing. That changed the discourse.

To go with the loud mouthed guy who seems like disaster waiting to happen or the well cultured experienced political leader who most-likely has more secrets than she's letting on? I am neither #TeamTrump or #TeamHilary, for God's sake I am Nigerian and there are more than enough factions in the farces we call political parties here, if I wanted to make a political affiliation.

But it got me thinking, about the choices we often have to make in life. Both options sometimes bad, or hard, leaving you to choose between the devil and deep blue sea. Like choosing between the stingy guy full of potential and the generous one who has only been lucky to have gotten so far in life. To pick the God-fearing kitchen-savvy lady who just never looks appropriate no matter what you buy her or the Toyin-tomato who looks so amazing stepping out of bed, fits you like a glove but excels at talking you down and messing up the simplest of meals. Should you trust your children to the scrawny looking house-girl or leave your job and trust your survival to your husband's salary and your waist-trainer delivery business in these days of  'aunty, e don cost'? 

Choices.  We make them everyday- difficult, simple, inconsequential, life-defining. We make them in milliseconds, sometimes unable to think them through, other times wearied out from over thinking them. I am tempted to say 'it's about values' but I have seen situation test values to the point where they seem irrelevant. Ask Peter if he did not value his Lord when he swore that he knew Him not. Ask Samson what happened to his values when he reeled out his mumu button on Delilah's laps. Pressure can cook anything soft, proof is all around us. 

I will not pretend to know the answer to this dilemma or submit a fool

proof directive that will work at such junctures but I imagine that it helps to somehow find a way to think about the future-far and near- in the midst of all that pressure. Cast your mind to the tomorrows that will hit you without demanding permission. What will matter then, the untold health issues or the blatant lack of leadership skills? When your children need a mother, will it matter if your wife is a 'slay-er' or a 'pray-er'. In health crisis and other downturns, would you still care if your husband is a 'fine boy' or if his mind and head work well?

In the end, only the end matters. Or so I think.

Can you believe it, Friday is just around the corner!

Photo credit; Pexels.com


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A WIFE IS LIKE A CAR!!!

I love Nigerians!   We are the definition of the phrase: ‘your brother’s keeper’. We watch out for others so much it is almost too much.   It could be almost annoying at times, at other times it could be the saving grace in certain situations. For instance, in my quest to get to work this morning, I had to wait a few minutes at car-wash bus-stop for the God-sent who was going to help me to work. As I waited, a young woman driving one of those extremely feminine Beetle cars parked and got out of her car.   She hurriedly opened the bonnet and discovered the car was overheating. Leaving the bonnet open, she went to her car to get a bottle of water. She was about to pour the water into the carburetor   when one of the LAWMA officials   who had already crossed the road to go wherever it is he was going hurriedly crossed back screaming: “madam, no pour the water, no pour the water!”. Shocked, she paused to look. In no time, the man was standing by her and exp...

WHAT NO ONE TELLS THE BRIDE

You know how politicians and politically aware people eagerly await a new government’s 100 days in office? Publications highlighting the government’s achievements in the time frame, bearing assurances and fresh promises to silence wailing wailers flood the media. 100 days in office is usually a big deal. Since my husband is so into politics and so not into anniversaries, I decided to ignore our 3 months month-niversary and celebrate 100 days in marriage instead. Well, it didn’t quite work. And that’s perhaps where I should start. There are several things the bride does not hear before she becomes a wife. Many she is outrightly not told, others she is too happy or too busy to understand. Then she gets married and after the long awaited event, her ‘eyes clear’.  Sometimes, the giddy feeling lasts till the honeymoon is over, but when she returns home with her husband, reality hits. Even when the new wife has the most understanding husband and uninterested far-away in-...

YOU SABI WHO IM BE BEFORE???

Call me weird but I enjoy bus rides. Yes, I do not mean comfortable air conditioned buses that belong to my father, brother, company or whoever you imagine I would know who might have a bus. I mean Danfo buses! Ok, I am certain I would like it more if the seats weren’t as many and it didn’t carry so many people at the same time. It would get even better if the windows actually work and the doors don’t fall off in motion. Yes, it would be really great if we didn’t have to almost lap each other all through the ride and the half naked conductor did not have to hang on the bus just next to you with your nose just around his hair ridden abdomen. Can people just stop sleeping in buses? I mean even if you have to sleep, can you do it with some finesse, I don’t even know your name so why should I want your head on my shoulder or the souvenir of your spittle on my shirt? Then, can you be kind enough to keep your baby in check; it’s just not fair for him or her to cry all through the tr...