Family-Matters

My Uncle Fred was the nearly black sheep of Mother’s side of the family. Bloke had all the women purring over him and he lived for the attention. As recently as the year 2000, he still left his plates on the table after eating and Mother would use him as an example of how not to behave. It was to my utmost surprise therefore, that in the midst of a phone call with me, Uncle Fred excused himself to go stir some soup he was making! Uncle Fred and cooking are about as diametrically opposed as they come.. ...

Caught up with Olu again - he and I sat down in the car, engines revving pouring our hearts out on the various issues in our lives. After being so similar for such a long time, our lives cannot be more divergent going forward. He is heading back to Nigeria semi-permanently, I am looking forward to yet another winter here. Life is good though, and the time spent chatting up has thrown up a few new directions. That is what friends are for I suspect.

Mum is running scared. A lot more scared than even I am.. And she doesn’t know the full scale of the issue. All I have told her is that I may not be returning to my old job in Nigeria. The truth is that I have quit already. As is typical with her she is bothered; wondering if I have enough funds to survive the job search, if I am seeking temporary work whilst all my documentation pulls through, the whole lanyards. ...

Dear Lawwd! Matters came to a head today over SpiriChic. Thing is Mother and I have spent the past few months locked in a mental war – losing it is inconceivable for me, because it would constitue such a loss of face that I couldn’t possibly put my foot down on any thing with her in future. SpiriChic, one of two young ladies I ever seriously dated, is a certain un-official ex from a few years ago now, whose existence was leaked by a parroting sibling in a moment of crass indiscretion. Said ex and Mother got to meet and hit if off instantly, which should have raised red flags in my mind at the time. My assumption has always been though, that as long as I hadn’t told the parents anything, whatever mother assumes is just that, an assumption. ...

I am currently embroiled in a little family spat - with Mum, Dad and ’the Uncle’ being the principal players here. Mum is one of them prim and proper women – married in her mid twenties, had her children fairly early and then gave her career a good shot. In between multiple children and numerous extended family members, she managed to get herself three degrees in total! She also gave the blokes at work a good run for their money – and came close to landing the top job several times except for the political posturings of a few well connected individuals. She and I have this love-hate relationship though. She’s never accepted that I am grown and can handle myself. She’s always tried to help out or plain take charge of me, which I have resisted with every fibre.These days, she and I have a mutual respect. We both know where the limits are – that is the recipe for survival I suspect. ...

Update: I’ve renamed my blog “Just Thinking” to reflect the more thoughtful mode I seem to be slipping into day by day… Me Ma and I have a cordial relationship; not the lovey dovey, mushy eyed, i-miss-you-always kind, but more like a pragmatic, mutually respecting, i-have-your-back-so-you-can-call-me-if-you-have-an-ish kind. My bad though, I’d not called her for a week so she was just a weee bit justified in calling me up. Apparently, she had done quite a bit of running around for my kid sister’s wedding in April and she needed to vent. Only snag though was that I knew that was only the hook, the full gist would encompass many other things….. Plus I was grilling some chicken, and fantasizing about the eating part. ...

Phew – I’ve survived another year – Another year of living and working in 9ja with all its attendant issues. I had several close shaves with death in the past 1 year - two car crashes that almost claimed my life (the last one finally totalled my 2001 3.25i BMW and left me with a cut on my head), a massive re-org at work that left 160 people considering what might have been if they’d opted for a different first job instead of tying up with an Oil & Gas major, two flights to and fro Lagos every month inspite of the real issues with the 9ja Aviation industry, several gruelling trips to Benin City from my enclave in the 9ja Delta (a 16hr round trip every 2 months) and most importantly another 1 year of surviving inspite of Mama’s phone calls.. ...

Phew – The “danger” of documentation was brought home to me very forcibly a couple of days ago.. A friend of mine stumbled across an old year book from my campus fellowship (from which I graduated in 2002). First off the “me” in the picture was several pounds lighter, with bushier hair and the talk – gist of launching my very own ISP wthin 10 years of quititng campus, writing songs and all what not – was a far cry from what I’d actually gone on to do .. Only my name connected the picture of the scrawny 20-something year old guy with the “buff” guy I’d become.. ...