NO!

Mystery is evoked in trying to fathom and unravel the meaning of the above topic. I couldn’t say more or less. The infamous cliché goes, and I quote, “It takes two to tango” Well, nothing could be further from the truth. It takes a couple to make a relationship. I don’t subscribe to the gay or lesbian ideology. I am a sane man to say the least and my Christian faith founded on a strong Christian background doesn’t allow me to even try and believe in same sex relationships. In my two letter topic above, am going to delve into the anonymous world of a couple. Not literally, but fictional. It’s a story about a couple in my head, and that makes the entire script fictional to its every detail. Take a seat and feed your mind.
Kate was excited; she had the excitement of a hundred million people at the swearing in ceremony of their presidential candidate. She sat in front of the mirror, her face glowing with splendour, her infectious smile would have enticed the woman in the mirror to come out and hug her. The fragrance she released into the atmosphere would have made the clouds come down just to offer her a complimentary shade wherever she went. She was beautiful, her makeup was carefully aligned upon her glowing face and nothing was done wrong. Her hairstyle was probably designed by some fashion icon from Italy and her golden shoes were probably the one Cinderella was trying to find, after all, she was the modern day Cinderella.
Back in church, people were seated, waiting in anticipation. The octogenarian bishop had not yet arrived, but the choir kept the faithful crowd busy enjoying rare tunes from the melodic refrain echoed out from the sweet morning bird voices of the church’s infamous choir. The aisle was spotlessly clean, adorned with a scarlet red carpet. This was neither a presidential attendance nor a VIP baptism date. This was Kate’s wedding day and the nuptials were in order, carefully planned like the reverberating intonation of the sol-fa ladder. Happiness was a must for everybody and a smile was the best dress you could wear in such an occasion.
Where there is a bride, there is a groom. Kindly refer to the number of people it takes to tango. William was not so excited. His expensive tuxedo suit may have fit in perfectly on his athletic body, but he was not excited at all. He probably had mixed feelings. His groom’s men were ready, all set and smelling good, like they hired someone who knows the ingredients of designer perfumes. Just a scent from them would be enough to give you a sneak peek into the wedding ceremony. As a matter of fact, inhaling a scent from them was all you needed to tell people how good the wedding was.
The fleet of vehicles was ready, and these were not just vehicles, these were machines, the kind of machines only owned by wealthy people. There was a Lamborghini in the fleet, a Porsche, a Ferrari, I must have envisioned a Hummer, and by its décor, it must have been the one William was going to travel in. It was all set, as he was the man of the day. This was clearly no cheap wedding. If you had to be there, you had to have an invitation, may be after careful scrutiny of who you were and a bank statement from either Barclays bank or may be World Bank. There were no chances for opportunists and gate crashers here. The steroid packed gigantic men would have whisked you away like some floating feather in a light wind. If you loved your life, you wouldn’t even think of coming here to gate crash. The best you would have done was to patiently wait for the story from a third person raconteur who may have also heard it from a bystander rumour monger who might have been lucky enough to see the fleet on its way to church.
Family members were all seated, and if you were careful to analyse them one by one, you would have been a billionaire just by robbing at least three people randomly. It was expensive. The pontiff in his prime age knew the worth of gold as he was not left behind, he had a golden ring, I don’t know the price, but this is where the hip hop goons came up with controversial lines “a car on my neck” “a jet on my wrist”, probably the pontiff had a mansion on his finger. This simply means that the value of the item is worth construction you a house.
The anticipated moment finally came. William walked in. His Italian leather shoes had a cordial relationship with the red carpet as every step he made assured the carpet of a healthy relationship. His was a majestic and calculated step towards the aisle. In his mind, a lot of thoughts engulfed him. He had been through a lot with Kate; he had a fare share of a crooked history. Kate was equally a dream and nightmare with equal measure. He dreaded this moment. Sometime back in his dating history, he found a picture of Kate with another man in bed, Kate was cheating on him. It was never the first time. William made a choice; he walked to the pulpit anyway, oblivious of the wayward archives of his recent history with this Kate of a woman. On the eve of his wedding he received news that Kate had an affair with one of her exes. He never talked about that, he boldly and confidently walked to the pulpit, all smiles and waiting for his elegant bride.
Kate walked in; her majestic entrance turned all the necks about 45 degrees back. She is the kind of woman you would wish to marry. I must confess that all the potential bachelors in the congregation must have been jealous by the attention she must have summoned upon her untimely entrance into the church. Am sure some of them would have wished that William dies so that they may have the opportunity to at least have a chance with her. She was on a whole new level. The flower girls walking behind her leaving a trail of flowers at every inch she covered with her expensive wedding dress that extended a few metres behind her curvaceous booty.
William smiled as he received her on the pulpit as the crowd watched in awe and amazement. The Pontiff signalled his congregation to stand up, of which they all did before he uttered a prayer dedicating this ceremony to Christ. “Before I proceed, who has an issue to air?” The bishop asked. No one responded, just a quiet congregation staring at each other probably anticipating on who would pull a stunt on this kind of blessed occasion. The Bishop reiterated back, “who is against this union before I join these couples?” No one responded again, so he grabbed his bible and read the scriptures. “Whoever findeth a good woman hath found favour with the load” William nodded with agreement, looking into the shining face of his wife to be. A few words of wisdom laced up the bishops lips before he proceeded to join the couples.
He took a careful look into William’s face and looked to the other side where this Cinderella of a beau was all smiles, of course he smiled back and asked the million dollar question, “Do you Kate take William to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, in wealth and poverty till death do you part?” “Yes I do” she uttered jubilantly as the congregation followed with excitement as ululations occupied the church’s atmosphere. Kate’s father was equally happy as he did not want to show much of his excitement, so he just let out the little smile and watched as emotions ran high for Kate’s mum who could not hold it back. Tears welled her eyes and watered her cheeks freely as her tears cascaded down caressing every bit of her Sephora make up.
The bishop cleared his throat once more, just to signal the church that he was ready to proceed with the wedding ceremony. There was a moment of calculated silence as the murmurings died out slowly from corner to corner. After the bishop summoned an accumulated amount of calm and silence, he cleared his throat once more and opened the scriptures as usual. He then proceeded to ask the million dollar question, “Do you, Mr. William take Kate as your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health; in riches and in poverty till death do you part?” William took a look into the face of his lovely wife to be, cleared his throat and opened his mouth. Just before he talked, a gunshot was heard from the crowd. . .

Lonely Man

Everything is quiet in the room. Boredom engulfs the atmosphere in quick succession. I turn right on my bed, it seems like it’s not interested at the slightest thought of me sleeping on it, so it makes some nagging squeaky sound like it’s trying to warn me from any further movements. I obey and stop moving. My eyes start rolling around my room, caressing everything in sight. The towel seems not interested in my random optical advances, so I still roll my eyes across the room.

My cupboard flaps open its door in slow motion, yawning like a tired dog in the heat of noon. The sound coming from its hinges echo out a boredom situation. I look at my perfume expecting it to press itself and release some nicety fragrance to ease the situation. It does not move, it mocks me by dropping its cap, probably trying to tell me that it was loose all day. My eyes still take a tour of the room. The small T.V is off, reluctant not to go on, even with a red dim light from its remote sensor.

At the other side of the room, the curtain seems to tease me with a mockery flap of its one sided cotton strip. It brings in the light and makes it disappear again. It seems to enjoy the frantic drama as it works in conjunction with the wind passing through the open space in the window that I lazily left open in the morning. My emotions are too weak to let me think on anything positive. I try so hard to seduce sleep, it plays hard to get in the same fashion my second girlfriend did in my three month fruitless pursuit. Sleep seemed not to care at how hard my efforts were in seducing it. It won’t just come, no matter what.

I forget and move again, this time round, the bed is furious. Every movement, it makes a statement. It’s about to say, “what the *** is wrong with you?” So I stay put in a bid to obey its frustrations. I am facing up the ceiling; it’s got nothing new to tell me, just a white surface decorated with golden chandeliers hanging while singing a melodic refrain. The air conditioner suddenly begins to blow a cold whistle. Some winter kind of temperature begins to occupy my room. I feel it from the tip of my feet, in an attempt to remind me that the duvet singled them out. I quickly fold them back in the duvet, just to tell them how much I love and care for them. They get cosy and relax, collecting the little heat that was created while the duvet was trying so hard to emit my body temperature to the cold room.

The air conditioner seems to get serious with its mockery, as the temperatures drop down low and lower. I cannot help it anymore; I get out of bed irrespective of its squeaky warnings and boring rantings. I go check the A.C and its temperature is at a cool 17, am like, “are you kidding me???” So I offer myself some quick justice and switch off the A.C. At this moment, a weird feeling engulfs my mind. Thoughts of home and people back home attack my mind. I imagine those warm nights with family members back home, it looks perfect. My mind is lost, its wandering in Africa, a place I call home, it has always been home. My funny friends with their mockery and exciting jokes. My ever serious father and my loving mother. Just before the good smile decorates my face, the image of the woman I love appears right in front of my face.

Some good smile sets in and attacks my cheeks. I feel temporarily warm, the bed is quiet, this emotion is so powerful, and it cannot let any of these non-living objects occupy a space in my mind. The towel seems hopeless, the efforts by the bed to make a statement are fruitless, and I do not need to seduce sleep any more. I feel I have the power to control my thoughts; it’s a strong feeling, but very deceptive. My girlfriend stretches out her hand to hold my mine, that’s when I realise its just a feeling, as elusive as the wind.

I could not touch her hands; neither could I feel her warmth. The AC came back again, the bed started squeaking, and my wardrobe becomes a nuisance. All of a sudden, boredom sets in. Sleep begins to seduce me. My muscles cannot move, my eyes stop rolling, I realise am empty, a vehicle running on the last drop of fuel. Am coming to a halt. I just can’t. Am I missing someone or is it just a sad feeling? I then realize am just a lonely man. . .

Blank Cheque

Okay, I’ll go straight to the point. Am not really into the business of fantasizing but I’m going to take a leap of faith. Suppose someone gives me a blank cheque right now, probably you don’t expect me to write a few thousand dollars or just a million dollars. Of course, I’ll write something that matches my worth. And what is my worth? My dreams of course. Absurd, right? As absurd as it may look, that is what I would write. You ask me why, I’ll give you a quick resounding reply, “That’s my worth” (no pun intended whatsoever). Anyway, I’ll shift my focus back to my topic, Blank Cheque.

What would you do with a blank cheque? As something is still running up your mind, think hard. Would you write all the money in the world? Of course not, you also need to be reasonable and realistic. Would you also write the price tag of your fantasy car? Well, maybe, but the car needs fuel, so you may add more zeros. In my honest opinion, most people would be confused on what to draft on a blank cheque. Greed may take toll on you and you end up writing something that will not benefit you in the long run. Some people may write stuff that are short term oriented, while more others will just write, just because it is a blank cheque. What would you write on a blank cheque?

This is not just any question, it is a life and death question, this is because at this moment, you will either have a life or lose yourself. What you write on a blank cheque will define you or destruct you. Our innermost human character will be unmasked by what we do with a blank cheque. It is your life, it is who you are, the soul inside you, your true self. That is what you would write. But away from the cheque stuff and what have you’s of a blank piece of paper. Life itself comes with its twists and turns, pitfalls and traps. But let us equate the blank cheque with life itself. What would you write on the story of your life? Fantasy may take a better part of you but life is real, so we can’t afford to write anything we watch in our block buster movies.

Our life on earth is a limited period, but in the limited period, the best life offers us is a blank cheque. Our lives all through the time we are alive is a blank cheque. What you write on it is what you are, how you value yourself and who you want to be, that is really how it works. You can write the best script ever, a bestselling story, something close to Harry Porter by J.K Rowling or The Lord of The Rings by J.R.R Tolkien. You have to write something worth your standards, something the world would love to see over and over. A story worth being put on all billboards across the streets. A story that’s worth being put on the front page of all best selling magazines and newspapers.

We all picture ourselves as great, and even if we don’t, we are great. Every human being has a certain level of greatness in them. It’s just that most people are never aware of this, or they just choose to ignore. This is because they lack a vivid understanding of the value of a blank cheque. This is why most people tend to live an average lifestyle. I believe, in my honest opinion, everyone has the ability to live a good life and explore their dreams and full potential. But since we are taken aback by our comfort zones and the ‘I am fine where I am’ mentality, most of us will never discover ourselves. Some will exchange their dreams with a well paying job; a few more others will sell their dreams for a good contract they signed with a certain company. Others will not even dare to dream, all these, at the disposal of a blank cheque.

Choice is one thing human beings have but don’t know how to use. That’s why the holy book says the highway to heaven is narrow as few people will cross it. Well, God has given us a choice. You can choose to go to heaven, or otherwise. It’s the same situation with a blank cheque. You can choose to write a satisfactory piece, or a thwack piece of shit. It’s all up to you as an individual, but since I believe all human beings are great, I don’t buy the ideology that human beings are supposed to be given a choice on what to write on a blank cheque. People are supposed to be forced to write something worthwhile. We have to force people with heaven. No one will go if you give them the freewill to decide. It’s tricky. 

Certain dreams are never realised because of the choice factor. The owners of the dreams were either too afraid to even try, or lacked confidence to pursue them. In a nutshell, they simply were too terrified to write up the blank cheque. That’s why I prefer people being forced to write up their own blank cheques. Life is happening now, every minute that passes, someone passes away. Another blank cheque is lost. In very few occasions do well written cheques pass away with time. We all have seen the well written cheques, Tupac, Witney Houston, Bob Marley, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, and of course our very own African Legend, Nelson Mandela, just to mention a few. Those were some of the world’s most renowned and well written cheques.

They not only benefited the individuals themselves, but the world felt the value of their cheques. Today we have cheques being written, some are still blank, others may not be written. It all depends with the holder of the pen. Where you are right now, you could be living your life or some survival kind of a lifestyle. But you have the pen in your hand, so I ask, if you were given a blank cheque, what would you write?

WHY YOU NEED EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE AT YOUR WORKPLACE

The most difficult thing about a workplace and or a work environment is getting along with your colleagues. The ability to blend in with everyone irrespective of race, gender, religion, cultural values and social beliefs. Very few people have the ability to blend perfectly well with almost everyone at a work place. But blending, much as it is a very important and highly recommended, you need nothing less than emotional intelligence at your workplace. This is the backbone of creating the kind of atmosphere necessary for bonding with your colleagues. Once you have some level of tolerance towards everything, you’ve nailed it. If you can keep your cool in the most difficult, almost catastrophic situations, you are ready to go.

I’ve once read a phrase that goes, ‘when you squeeze an orange, you get orange juice’. That is because that is nature; you can never squeeze an orange and get lemonade. We human beings can also be squeezed. What comes out of you when squeezed is what you are made of. If dangerous words, spite, hate, cursing are what comes out of you while squeezed, that’s what you are made of. But when you are squeezed and what comes out of you is all smiles, and positive attitude, that’s what you are made of. Apparently, the lemon does not have much of a choice when squeezed. But for us human beings, we have a choice. And it’s that very choice that will determine whether you have a reputable emotional intelligence or not.

We are all different; we act differently to every situation that encompasses us as human beings. But we all have a soft spot. In most cases, our soft spots are usually appended towards an individual, could be a family member or a significant soul. But given the ability to make choice, we can always turn our soft spots towards the human race. Not necessarily your family only. You can also extend it towards your colleagues, the people you meet along the streets, in the mall, generally everyplace you see and meet a human being. You have to show your soft spot.

The other day I was doing my night shift at my place of work, apparently I was with my night manager, so the two of us were handling the front desk. I was finalizing my previous day report roll over when a call came from a guest in one of the rooms. What did not dawn on me was the fact that this guest is a very close friend to my night manager. He calls and I receive, he needs his room cleaned. So I take it upon myself to inform the house keeping team. After about twenty minutes, the guest comes down and complains to the night manager. Of course it’s his right to complain, am not defying that. So my night manager takes up the walky-talky and shouts, “CALLING HOUSE KEEPING, OVER!” The reply comes back, “House keeping copy” He goes ahead, “MAN, WHATS WRONG WITH YOU, I NEED ROOM 555 CLEANED, BECAUSE THE GUEST CANT WAIT, OVER!” I look at him and start thinking; maybe he is on some drug overdose.

Well, if that is anything to go by, then everything is wrong about him. First of all, he has missed all protocols in the walky-talky procedural ways of use. Short and brief, his was wordy and long. Communication skills were lacking, he shouts on the walky-talky. I mean, who the hell does that? His Emotional Intelligence is way below average, almost hitting rock bottom. I didn’t talk about him banging the wall and kicking the door. The walky-talky frenzy is just enough to draw a conclusion about his emotional intelligence. Basically, if someone can do such a thing, then it’s most evident that they lack a lot in the psychological world. According to me, someone who lacks emotional control is weak. Because they vest their strength in shouting and wasting adrenalin on non living objects. Well, may be because he is the manager, I don’t know. But regardless of your position as a human being, how you handle yourself around people, especially when the adrenalin kicks in, really matters a lot.

We all have the ability to restore our cool, we just don’t use it. There is a Nigerian proverb that says, “no matter how hot your anger is, it cannot cook yams” Well, that is enough reason to let you bring in your cool. You don’t have to look bizarre in front of everyone. Keep your cool, practice on your E.I and also I.Q. The next time you want to shout, think, ten minutes from now, what difference will it make?

Why you don't need experience in your job search.

The most difficult stage in our human lives, I have to say is the job seeking phase. I know you all going to say marriage, some will say parenting, a more few others will say schooling. Well, it all depends with perception. Every stage in life comes with its twists and turns, as we all know, life is never a bed of roses, so allow me cover you with a thorny bed sheet. There comes a stage in life where you have to choose between being independent and being dependent. The gap between the two is what I term as the ‘job seeking phase’. Getting a job is what will determine whether you are independent or dependent. We all crave for independence, whether it’s financial, or mental, we all want independence. And in this modern world, everyone wants to be financially independent, that’s where job seeking comes in.

If you are currently employed, then at some point in your life you must have looked for that job you have today. Some jobs will need a level of qualification, some will need your physical energy, some will need your mental capacity, and some more others will require your exemplary creativity. All in all, jobs will demand certain specifications from us. The most weird and redundant demands job specifications demand from us is experience. That is the basis of my article today. You browse through your local dailies on the job seekers page, otherwise, the classifieds page. A job posting is displayed before your keen eyes, and you follow the link and open that job catalog. You are hit with a ten year experience demand for that job. You are a first timer, fresh from college. Do you give up?

Of course, any rational mind will be discouraged. But I don’t belong to the rational mind class of people. I will pursue that job to the end. Experience is one overrated word in today’s job market. Every single person has a starting point towards something. The world is founded upon the principles of growth. Nothing happens in a day. America was never founded in a day. Slavery never ended in a day, the I Phone wasn’t designed in a day, neither did Albert Einstein made discoveries in a day. This whole experience thing sucks the life out of our hopes in looking for a job.

In my opinion, you don’t need experience to get a job started. All you need is some little training and you are done. The human mind is designed in a way that it is open to new things. Learning takes place everyday a new thing comes in contact with our mental processes. We will then master that thing by repeatedly engaging in it till we master the craft of doing it. Pablo Picasso wasn’t born a painter as he puts it, he just had an obsession for painting, a thing that made him master the craft of painting, and that’s why to date, he is engraved in our history books. That also applies in the job market. Get the job, train and repeatedly engage in your job specifications. In one month’s time, you are up and ready. As human beings, our perfection is purely based on practice. That’s why, the phrase practice makes perfect was coined.

If you are an employer reading this, be kind enough to admit the starters in your company, train them well and let them handle the rest. If you are not convinced, I will hit you with a brief explanation. I have heard of plane crashes that sent over a hundred souls back to their creator. It was not done by a new person. Some of those pilots have buckled up over 20 years experience in their careers. I have heard of buses claiming lives, buses driven by the same individual for over ten years. I have seen multi-million dollar companies brought down to their knees and eventually to the ground by C.E.O’s who have run the company for over twenty years. All those are experienced people, right? I don’t know what went wrong, but those are experienced people anyway.

There is always a reason why a change is good. Ever heard of the cliche, a change is as good as rest? The change is the new job seeker in the market. They don’t need experience, they are passionate, they need the job, they will do anything to hold that job, and they are passionate, enthusiastic, full of energy and very vibrant. This is an opportunity they are not willing to forfeit, it’s a rare chance. They will give it their all. The experienced person is comfortable, very comfortable. His skills don’t work for him, his experience already sells him. His CV is full of experiences, the kind of a person that a job seeker needs. At the end of it, his negligence is conspicuous. He has been doing this for so many years, today there is nothing different. Same old stuff, just a different day. That’s why the plane crashed, the bus rolled, the building collapsed, the ship sank. Get me?

You don’t need experienced people in your company, you need new people who you are supposed to offer adequate training and let them handle your company. The rest will fall into place. If you took a ten year old kid and trained him to fly an aeroplane for one year, just taking off, landing and how to handle emergency. Trust me; I would be seated pretty behind the cockpit if you gave them an aeroplane to fly from Dubai to America. I wouldn’t be worried about a thing. If the plane crashes, I would term it as an accident, not lack of experience, because when experienced pilots crash planes, it’s called an accident, and mine is no different. It’s also an accident.

I would sum up all this write up in a nutshell and say, you don’t need any form of experience to run certain jobs. Get the training, master your craft, add a little passion and energy, you are good to go. Once you get paid, that’s enough motivation to work harder and aim for the managerial position. If you are looking for a job and someone tells you they need experience, show them this article. 

Loving What You Do



Am in the office working late, doing some final day report roll over. My colleague is in the back office sorting out files most probably coming to join me sooner or later. I won’t mention his name, but for the purpose of this article, I will call him *Robert. He comes to the front office and he bangs the table, “I hate my job!” He says, with an unwavering look on his face. I pretend to have not heard a thing and I go about my duty as if nothing happened. He bangs the table again, much louder than before; a deaf person would have heard the bang. I pause for a moment and look at him waiting for his message.

“I hate my job”, he confirms. This time round, crystal clear. I stop what am doing and move close, and ask him politely, careful enough not to topple his momentarily delicate emotion. *Robert, why do you hate your job? I thought you earn almost thrice as much as me? “Walter, it’s not about the money, I just hate my job!” Up to that point, I have understood everything in all ways possible. I will use these two paragraphs illustration to create my article.

If you are reading this, the probability is you are either working, looking for a job or jobless. I am going to base my article purely on those who are working while wishing the rest successful endeavors. In my own understanding of the dynamics of life, survival is the prime factor for the human race. Death is an equalizer to all mankind, and the time between birth and death is the space occupied by survival. Much as we are living, some of us barely survive. And in trying to survive, the human race has devised the most sophisticated and strange acts of survival. In trying to explain some of them, I will offend a few souls, so I will restrict myself to the work environment.

Truth be told, very few souls are working because they need the money and not that they love what they do. The last time somebody got into a job purely based on their passion for the job is probably a couple of centuries back. My friend above, Mr. *Robert said it’s not about the money, he just hates his job. Sometimes, I wish I were him. May our good Lord forgive me; I only want to be him due to his salary and comfort. I mean, you come to the office adorning a nice expensive suit laced up in a slim tie matching your sleek morphology; you sit on your chair revolving round and round with an air conditioner above you cooling some nice tasty hot coffee placed on your right hand side. In front of you is a computer, fully connected to the world, with cascaded windows of various you tube channels. On your hand is an I phone signed in on Skype, probably video calling your significant other, aided by the free fully functional Wi-Fi the hotel provides. And you have the audacity to say you hate your job! Seriously!!! And mark you; I haven’t talked about the Pizza and French fries that find their way to your table every day at two o’clock. I hope I didn’t forget the Seven Up and tomato ketch up. Let me not talk about the Arabic dessert, it’s delicious, I know, but has no significant role at this moment.

Anyway, we all work to survive. Am not quite sure how many people in the job market love or hate their jobs, but all I know is, if given a chance to choose between your job and something else, half of the world’s population will choose something else. Don’t get me wrong, you are also guilty of this. We are trying to survive; some of us are handling certain jobs because it the readiest source of income, without which they feel like they will lose their lives. They hate the job, it’s true, but since they see nothing else apart from that job, they will hold on to it. May be it’s the reason why my boss banged the table. He tried figuring out how he could leave but to no avail.

Well, I mentioned earlier, it’s all about survival. The human race has to survive. I personally have dreams, and I have very big dreams for that matter. My current job does not get me any close to achieving my dreams. But I am comfortable, because I believe in the virtue of patience. Survival is the key word here. Am also trying to survive, am human too. But I won’t bang the table; I won’t say I hate my job. Hell No! It’s a bridge to the place am going. And one thing I love about bridges is, they will always connect you to a place your are deservedly going.

Life is not a rehearsal, and sticking to a wrong job makes it look like a script, you’ll always have to act your part according to the script, not according to how you want to live. We all hate control, especially if it has its effects on us, we will hate it more. We want to take charge of our lives, and being in the wrong job will deprive you of taking control, since you are there because you have to be there, not because you want to be there. But why don’t you pause for a second and be thankful to your creator for blessing you with a job you hate, rather than making you jobless. Try to think about the jobless people on the streets dropping their CV’s all over various companies. Try thinking about the hopeless people who have lost their jobs before it even started. Think about that person going back home right now with a retrenchment letter. I know it’s pretty difficult to, but I would rather we appreciate what we have while pursuing what we want.

It pisses me off that am not living my dream, but every day I have to thank God for the job I have. Back home, almost half of my country’s population is jobless. Some are living below one dollar a day. That’s why I have to thank God for my job. In my mind there are things I have always wanted to do. I have dreams too. There is a job that if someone gave me today, I wouldn’t mind waking up at two o’clock in the night going to my place of work and staying there till midnight. It’s my passion, but since I have a source of income, I have to be thankful. It does not mean I have stopped chasing my dreams. I am chasing them, every chance I get, I will chase my dream. I still insist, I won’t bang the table. If you find yourself in that kind of situation, please sit back; review your job against your dreams. Have a to-do list and a vision. Go back to your place of work and focus on your vision. It will definitely come to you, if you have the right amount of patience. If it does not come to you, go bang the table.

The Worm

The worm

The early bird catches the worm. Sounds familiar? Well, if you are a fan of phrases, idioms, quotes and what have you’s of English grammar then at some point in your life, you have often come across this cliché of an Idiom. I doubt if the current generation, especially teenagers have a glimpse of this, but since am not willing to bet, I’ll drop a little explanation.

This idiom has just one simple meaning, whoever arrives first, whoever wakes up and gets to his place of work early, will have the best chances of success. This is quite true, going by the dynamic rules of life and the constant laws of nature. Life will always favour you according to how first and fast you are. But let’s take a moment and reflect at the superficial meaning of my topic sentence in the first paragraph. The early bird will always catch the worm. That is how nature works. People have spent their entire lives talking about the early bird, so I chose to be a little odd and talk about the worm.

Life will reward the early bird for waking up early, which is a constant by Mother Nature. And it will reward it by a sumptuous dish of a moist worm slithering its slimy body between small rocks and damp grounds. Am writing from Middle East, and apparently, this is geographically a desert and I will forgive you for not knowing what a worm is. But since you are probably reading this from a computer or a browser in your phone, just open a new tab and Google the meaning of the word ‘worm’. I will be a little generous and offer you a brief explanation. A worm is a tubular invertebrate of the phylum annelid. Some technology oriented gurus will tell you it’s a computer virus, which I won’t dispute, but for as long as the world has existed, birds don’t eat computer viruses. So, you may want to stick to my meaning.

Away from the meaning and the explanations, I want to talk about the misfortunes of the worm. According to the rules of nature, the worm ought to be rewarded for its efforts of waking up earlier than the bird, because in my own understanding, the bird will only get the worm, because the worm hit a few steps before the bird, or is it a few slides? Since worms don’t have feet? Anyway, Nature does not favour the worm; it only talks about the bird. Don’t you think this worm has family, friends, and relationships? Well, as weird as it may sound, it is an animal, much as taxonomy and binomial nomenclature may make it quite insignificant in the hierarchy of life, it has freedom of association and that makes me want to talk about the misfortunes of the worm.

In the cold morning breeze before the unwavering rays of the morning sun, the worm is out, of course looking for means to survive, probably looking for ways of feeding its family and taking care of them. Then out of nowhere, a bird appears and murders this worm in cold blood, and in a split second, the worm ceases to become a worm and quickly becomes a dish. It’s quite unfortunate; its family will have to deal with an impromptu funeral that they won’t even know exists. Dad left home to look for breakfast, but unfortunately, it became somebody else’s breakfast. Reflect.

Life works in very funny ways, and the situation is not very different from the worm story. If you come back to real life, there are people who are the worms in my story above, and there are birds. There is a phrase that goes, ‘Man eats Man society’ that was coined by an American anthropologist, William Arens in his book, The Man Eating Myth.  You may have not heard about the book because it was published somewhere in 1979.

 

I am neither a lawyer, nor an activist. What I write here is purely based on my thoughts and perception of reality. But truth be told, this is a man-eat-man society, we have to deal with it. I would have said bird-eat-worm but my point has already been driven home. There are people who have to struggle their entire energy to keep the hustle up for their loved ones and in this case, their family members. I’ll substitute them with the worms. And there are those people who will have to live their lives off the edge of misfortunes they create from other people’s opportunities. In this scenario, you won’t be eaten alive as the case of the poor worm. But in the human situation, you will have to be nibbled bit by bit may be till your last day on earth, or may be till a situation changes.

I don’t know who really is a worm, and who really is a bird in this life, I can’t tell. But as a human being, you will be able to analyse by your own instincts who is the bird, and who is the worm. You might have been born a worm, that‘s natural. But as a human being, you have the ability to be something bigger than the worm. May be you can be a snake and eat the bird instead. It’s your choice. But my message goes out to all the ‘birds’ in our society. You may want to be a little passionate about this ‘worm’ and give it more opportunities to be something better, understand that the worm has family just like you and the worm loves them, that’s why it gets up quite early to fend for them. Be a little generous with the worm, and find other means of surviving. ‘Birds’ eat ‘grains’ and ‘seeds’. You may try and change your diet to something more reasonable and will not jeopardize the ‘worm’s’ existence.

And to the ‘worm’ out there, keep on waking up early, someday the ‘bird’ will wake up to catch you and find out that you are a ‘snake’ and instead, it will be the best breakfast you will ever have. . .