Basketmouth’s Uncensored & Lessons Learnt.

So, that’s how dearest Hubby decided to honour me for being a good help girl for the past one year since he presented to my family 42 tubers of yams in exchange for my culinary & cleaning skills hand in marriage, and according to him, “those yams were enough to start a yam plantation o so you guys should own a farm by now" (haa, our olori ebi must surely hear this)and as a result, decided to show his appreciation in one of the many ways he had been showing it since I accepted his yams hand in marriage; by taking me "a la laughing".

Before I delve into the discourse of what looks like Marketing strategy for Basketmouth, let me quickly allay some ever doubting minds that Hubby purchased the tickets for the show and we were not given “osho free”. But being an aesthetic and expressive person, I love to exalt a good scenario, especially when such situation is worthy to be exalted.

For many who can attest to my personality, being happy is serious business for me and a decision I have taken seriously and which I have never deviated from. Nothing few things never get to me and to confirm that, I am constantly seen wearing a smile, even in the dandiest of situations. And I also bounce back from problems very fast, way too fast. Hubby does not like this one bit though, as this means we don’t get to fight as much as he would have liked. You know men and their need to turn everything into full scale war, but due to my ever pliant & amicable self, that craving opportunity to oppress my innocent and meek self has not presented itself to him in a while. And I see the frustration in his eyes when I douse every tense combat with a wide grin or a mischievous meek look, just as he tried to pick a fight this morning on why I don’t know where he kept his car keys and why I rumpled his black trousers and removed it from the table to keep back in his own side of the closet and how I keep frustrating and testing him in this marriage. Hehehehe.

However, this is not because I don’t have my temper tantrums(you would be surprised) whatsoever nor is it as a result of being unaffected by various issues Methuselahs young people like myself experience in the society of today, but due to certain transformational experiences and situations I have faced, I have come to understand that everything always pan out regardless of how huge it may seem to be at that time it seemed overwhelming.

Absolutely everything!

Now for many people, this is not a good attitude as I have been accused of not taking things serious nor adorning a sombre look when the situation calls for it, but I really do. I'm just extremely good at concealing emotions(I'd be a genius at playing poker) And sincerely also, I generally don’t give a flying f**k press too deeply on issues/things most people tend to be petty about as those issues that seem insurmountable today would become trivial in some few days/weeks or even some months’ time and if there is something I detest, it is to have acted quite silly and foolish in the past and now have to apologise or eat my words. Ugh!

Now back to the laughing story, having being a good house help wife & partner to Hubby, he decided to sponsor me to go watch Basketmouth’s Uncensored as he is aware that the guy is my favourite comedian in the whole wide world Nigeria.

And as far as yours truly is concerned, Basketmouth is the only comedian that can stand on stage for more than 2 hours with continuous rib cracking jokes and I would be riveted and won’t get bored. And that’s saying a lot because apart from having a nauseatingly cheerful attitude during thunderstorm situations, I also get very bored easily.

So back to the matter, when we got to the venue of the show and by we, I meant hubby and I, with our mattress, pyjamas, hair net, duvet and dinner, ready to wait but expecting the show to start by 10:00pm(you know Naija time factor na), though a show slated for 6:00pm which is the normal practice of most of the shows of nowadays that have given a new meaning to the term African Time.

So you can imagine our shock and disbelief when at exactly 7:00pm , Bovi came out to announce that the show was about to begin and even apologised for starting an hour late proffering an explanation in form of a joke that the 6:00pm on the ticket is the time for the audience to get there while 7:00pm is when the show was scheduled to start(Insert a compulsory laugh here o as Bovi is another hilarious comedian that can do no wrong in my eyes).

Now for someone who was used to going for shows and the hosts not keeping to time, ever, that was like the icing on the cake for me and a damn good start and I knew I was in for a satisfactory evening. I would not want to go into how interesting and organised the show was lest you think Basketmouth has promised me some free tickets for his future show but would just go straight into what made this show stand out and what comedians and artists should learn from.

Apart from the organisation and quality of jokes, what stood out was the interaction the performing artists had with the audience. There were no unnecessary double 6-pack bouncers protecting Olamide or Phyno or Sound Sultan while they sang and moved around (as if the audience is dangerous and should be kept away from the stars, hian!). Everyone at the show was there to have fun and dance and the ambience made sure we were all allowed to get quite close to the performers while our seats were not arranged in a clustered manner like prisoners watching an old movie in the common room within the prison facilities. That sense of closeness goes a long way in ensuring people know the artists are there to please them and not the other way round like other shows where the artists behave like they are the gateway to heaven and audience should leak their feet in obeisance if they intend to make heaven while arrogantly showing off their Rolex watches and Machiavelli boots, abi is it Timberland sef?

The seating arrangement was also quite impressive as there were no intimidating round tables demarcating the bourgeois with stolen wealth from those of us that worked hard to earn legitimate money. (Ok,fine, that’s just the jealous side of me talking). However for the cinema-like seating arrangement, apart from the King &Queen row tickets that sat in the front aisle and being able to tell the actual colour of Basketmouth’s teeth, every seat was almost arranged in the same way. (Same sef if you ask me because really, I couldn't tell the difference. But Bovi was quick to diss those of us that sat in regular seats that he knows we would have consoled ourselves with this arrangement thoughts that “shebi we are seating the same way”. And he was right because that was the first thing many of us that sat upstairs said. Lool)

Also, it was obvious that the tickets sold were in tandem with the hall capacity as there was still enough space to move around. Usually people think the success of a show depends on how filled up the hall is but that's just a greedy mentality filled with crap not true. I don’t want to walk into a show and have to grip my bag firmly for fear of being mugged or hold on to my partner with death grip for fear of being trampled. There was ample space for people to move around and actually SEE the performers without been squashed to a corner and having to stand while blocking people due to seats exhaustion. The coordination of the seating arrangements was on point and the projector ensured every seating arrangement was visually convenient for each class of seats. So those of us that sat on king rows fineeeeeeee, regular seats, had perfect seating spots that I could have even touched Basketmouth if I'd chosen to. And the fact that Basketmouth did not oversell tickets just to make profit goes a long way to show a comedian that is actually customer-centric and interested in ensuring we get value for our money and not just to make profit and be able to quote in newspapers that “the hall was filled to the brim and some people did not even get where to sit”. And what got me tripped was the fact that driving out of Eko hotel after the show was well coordinated and each car couldn't have spent up to 10 minutes before driving out of the gate.

All in all, it was a lovely show and a lesson to other comedians and artists that you don’t need to surround yourselves with weight lifters cum bouncers who now try to barricade the people being entertained like they are rogues/thugs, or to try and maximise profit, all at the expense of giving the fans a good value for their money that would ensure they attend the next one.

And even though Tuface, Wizkid and Davido didn’t perform as promised, understandably so, it was due to the BET awards. Despite this, nearly every attendant at that show would agree that Basketmouth made up for it in every awesome way possible. I am not speaking for people with bigger issues that a night of rib cracking jokes cannot/didn't cure sha o.

I hereby solemnly swear that this is not an advert nor am I in any way affiliated to Basketmouth or a member of his family. I'm simply a satisfied customer and a part of a well behaved happy audience that got back her/their money value and wants the world to know.

Tale of Two Thieves- A Greedy Investor & the Fraudulent Business Man.

It takes a whole level of highly motivated greed & invested quest for selfish wealth to attempt to reap more than what one had never sewn.

I have always boasted to anyone that cares to listen that it would take an exceptional alakori genius to defraud me of anything whatsoever, even something as small as a pen cover. If you however believe that I am blowing my trumpet about being too smart for fraudulent activities, then you are right.(maybe because I am married to a Barrister. Hehehehe)

You see, outside that reason, I am an extremely stingy meticulous and detailed person where any business transaction that money would exchange hands or any financial activity is concerned. And when It comes to parting with any sum of money whatsoever, no matter how small, omo, I can investigate and sniff around so much that even Sherlock Holmes would be like;

"Is it because of this small change you are investigating like this?"

So as a result of this meticulousness, there are some few traits of mine I think you should all know so you will understand my stance:

 I can haggle over price of foodstuff for Africa to the barest minimum. My mum taught me well and following her to the market while growing was an unforgotten experience as seeing my mum price meat of 3000 naira to 700 naira has given me the toughness to haggle shamelessly with no fear of being thrown out of any market. It became so bad that any time I entered the market around my area, those market women usually adorn an unwelcome frown until I pass their stall or to prevent me from pricing evilly, they quickly let me know before I descend on them with my haggling strategy, "Aunty, eran ti won gan o" or "ko si isu loja mo o aunty so iyoku towa won gan o"(meaning meat is now costly and the remaining yams in the market are very costly). That one does not stop me o. A market woman once asked whether I wanted to be “ota aje” which means enemy of wealth. What makes it funny is that those words don’t upset me. I will sha price well.

       I also find it extremely emotional parting away with old stuff so there is a possibility that if you have once visited my house, you would have seen some “panti” (worthless dirts old stuff) either under the staircase, on the lower bottom of the drawers, in the guest room or even among my make-up purse. I just have this attachment to keep on to something I spent my money on some time back no matter how far back. My mum had a name for me "Mo ma lo owo mi tan lara nkan, o man so eyan di idakuda nii" (which means "trying to use all your money out of something you bought makes you a nonsense person. And this was after she saw a lipstick I bought in my 100 level while clearing out my room in 400 level) Another example is an eye shadow I purchased in 2008 before graduating from my university. Omo, I still have it o but I have given my sister sha. looool

    I like to acquire stuff a lot, which is why I ensure I go to the mall with a list and budget of what I really want need, otherwise Hubby hears something like this whenever I come back from the mall, “Sweety, I saw one lovely bag and shirt at the Galleria that were so fine so I bought these shoes, this make up kit and this wristwatch". (I can be hazardously extravagant and haphazardly irrational where shopping is concerned)

     I like collecting evidences receipts, even if it’s to buy Moin-Moin and Boli from Iya Ruka across the street(Ok, that's a lie.). But I like to know the root of whatever I am buying, where they planted the plantain and where the Moin Moin wraps were made and who plucked the coconut I am buying from its tree. I research a lot about anything I intend to do and anywhere I intend to spend more than 5000 naira. If the information does not populate positive news into 3 pages or more on Google, Bing or Devil Finder, Bella Naija, Linda Ikeji, Stella Dimokokus, mehn I ain’t interested.

    As a rule, I never do business with outright strangers. I deal only with referrals whose root I know and whose referrals came from people whose integrity I can vouch for deeply. I may not be rich o but every shilling & kobo million(fineeee, another lie) I have was sweated for and I no dey take am joke at all. 

    And when I am promised more than what I am actually contributing, It turns my radar permanently off. I don’t want to be promised a spitting dragon or a unicorn while I am asked to bring just a key holder or the case of an old Trium phone. Mba! I am a staunch advocate of the phrase, “a bird in hand is worth fifty thousand in the bush”.

So having said this, why would anyone now think for all the blood diamonds in Sierra Leone Venezuela, I can be defrauded simply by jazzing and lying encouraging me to part with mere 5 naira so I can get 5000 naira in return? 

As how na?

I have never even bought shares from the stock market with my own money before! (apart from the ones my mum got for all her kids when shares still had value in the late 80's/90's) Why would I want to part away with any amount of cash immediately for a promissory note sometime in the far away future?

The answer is simple: I must have shown the person either behaviourally or by my body language that I am greedy, which is what many defrauded people are guilty of possessing.

Greed! 

The bane of our society, the reason Africa is still what It is today, the affliction of many youths and gullible adults, the need to acquire more than what we have legitimately worked for and the elder brother to the phrase, “what’s in it for me".

The duped victim always feel smart from the onset while adorning an arrogant disdain towards the person making the promises and would have calculated that parting away with 1million naira to get 5million naira is worth it. But what the ode unintelligent duped victim does not realise is that 1 million naira to the fraudulent person is a huge sum of money. So contrary to the dummy thoughts of the not so smart person that was defrauded, they end up being the victim.

Don’t get me wrong though. I am well aware that some people legitimately want to do business and think they are liaising with legitimate consultants but this is where investigation and research would have helped out. The world has gone too digital and Technology savvy for research to be undermined where new business interest is concerned.

However, the truth is people who are defrauded are usually afflicted of pure greed and probably with possibility of generating into full time theft if put in an official autonomy of huge finances. Because there is no way in hell heaven someone that has worked legitimately would agree to part with a huge sum of money that have been sweated for many hours in labour to acquire double or triple of some invisible cash just because a smooth talking, clean shaven bastard person made promises to double it within a short period of time.

Hian, aka gum like me? Ko joor on all levels.  

I have had several friends who had ashamedly fallen victims of dubious/ shady fraudulent businesses despite their very many & impressive certificates; both foreign and local ones o, and who then vow to bring the fraudulent person(s) to book while laying all curses known to man to the smart fraudsters . And I ask them, “Abeg, wetin dem promise you and wetin you drop in return”?

I think at at that point, they allow their brains to start functioning again as they usually have no convincing responses to that question because at the end of the day, they usually realise that maybe they are not as smart as their certificates proclaimed them to be and maybe it is time for them to return all received diplomas and degrees earlier acquired.

But as for Inspector aka gum like me, I still strongly maintain and opine that any one that was/is a victim of either on-line or physical fraudsters deserves to be jailed alongside these fraudsters.

#nuffsaid

Guard that Child or Take Those Pills.

Days of Yore

I remembered while growing up that my siblings and I used to resent the way our parents caged prevented us from going out of our prison house to do gbeborun watch the neighbourhood from our spacious balcony, having sleep-overs with some friends, attending excursions conducted by the school or staying for a while at some relative’s house just for the holidays.

It used to be extremely annoying because we felt we were being deprived of the whole essence of childhood and we resented them all the more for it for separating us from what was our dreams.

Ours was a very sheltered and protected childhood and external trips outside the main door of our house that does not lead to the school gate was always met with a resounding “NO”. At times we got punished for even thinking of an excursion or sleep over talkless of  suggesting   going for an excursion or having a sleepover at somewhere that was not our beds.

For my parents, most especially my dad, it was greed and lack of contentment for nursing such hopes and those thoughts usually lead to some military punishment.

You see, my dad never served nor worked with any military organisation but his sense of upbringing towards his children was quite militarial in its approach. With my dad, you should never be seen nor heard. All those “sleep overs”, “tea parties”, “lunch with neighbours” “excursion to badagry, Paris, beach etc, that kids do back then and even now, my siblings and I never did that.Even thinking about it was a sin. And you may be wondering whether they were monitoring us while in school, right?

Not at all.They were confident enough to know that we dared not.

But despite the mini-security non-surveillance of both parents, it was never an option to misbehave while in school or consider leaving the school gates for any reason whatsoever.Suffice to say, I grew up sheltered and extremely protected. 

What made it even more annoying was that we were well aware of our financial comfortability so we did not for the love of God understood why we were not allowed to enjoy what kids like us were enjoying. The first public transport I ever took was when I was in my late teen years and had resumed as a day student in a school within Lagos. So prior to my 17 years on earth, I was being taken to wherever I needed to go (that’s if I am not being accompanied by my mum or an aunty or my dad or my brother or in company of senior relatives)

And I never got to even play in the rain. Ever! 

But you can't blame my folks for that though. I was brought up in that generation that believed lightning kills people.So once it starts drizzling, parents lock up their children from the unseen eyes of the wicked lightning. And also the days of cyclone that was rumoured to lift someone from Lagos to Maiduguri.

But that's another unrelated story for another day.

Have I also mentioned that apart from these excursions and sleepover curfews, we were also not allowed to have any cash whatsoever at hand?

Hian!

Any cash found on you would be concluded to be stolen funds and my parents would give us punishment deserving of children-theft.

However strict this upbringing was, my folks believed in giving us all we needed to grow amidst our peers without feeling deprived and also believed they were our guardians on this earth and contrary to what children rights activists and other foreign bodies may have said about a child’s right to opinion, it was never a consideration in my family for you to suggest an opinion that borders on stepping out to be somewhere outside our folks hovering eyes.

All big issues my siblings and I were  given the privilege to deliberate upon was whether we wanted to eat our food with meat or without meat, whether we would eat after daddy had flogged us or we would go to bed hungry, whether we should help mummy in the kitchen or assist the house help in peeling the egusi from its shell, whether to assist my sister with her homework or simply study on my own with classwork to be given by my dad, whether to sleep on the bed if I behaved well or on the floor where naughty children slept, whether to take injection on my buttocks or to take injection on my buttocks WITH those horrible tasting syrups of those days, whether to go to school with food flask or whether to go with biscuits, and all other big issues that we can exercise our children rights upon.

Other little issues like choosing to go for excursion, sleeping over at a home that was not my parents, having cash at hand while going to school, bringing friends over(abomination) at any stage of our growing lives, stepping out of our door to stay on the veranda, climbing down the stairs to go to the main gate of our house(a taboo that could cost you an arm and a leg), lying to my parents(my folks took this more serious than Moses did with the commandments), stealing money from my mum’s bag(we didn’t even bother stealing from our dad as the punishment would make you prefer death) were left for our parents’ to handle and they did and guarded us with all they had.

What’s the moral of this story?

I grew up disciplined, self-sufficient, independent, whole, non-abused nor assaulted in any way, because my parents, most especially my mum, took the job of parenthood seriously and to heart, even up till now. As I still remember that even after my wedding, my mum still kept on calling me every-day.(Omo mehn, I didn’t find it funny o and had to tell her but yes, she still takes offence if we don’t speak in 2 days. For my mum, no matter your status in life, you are still a baby and would be reprimanded if you misbehave whether you have multiple degrees or not.)

Back to the Present

I have had cause to read up on so many stories on abuses, assaults going on in young children’s’ lives, most especially young girls, by relatives or close acquaintances of the family or even little girls abused by neighbours only for the folks to cry foul after finding out days, weeks, months or even years later. Many of these assaults are usually caused by sheer neglect based on the path the stories usually take.

There was a story that was circulating sometime last year of 2 busy couples that kept their daughter with the husband’s father and one day, the little daughter was playing in the compound when a car’s brake failed and swerved into the compound killing the girl. I was so furious with the parents it almost clouded my compassion for the poor grandfather who may still be blaming himself up till now.

There are so many cases of parents in our generation being lax with their offspring and one is left to wonder if they got pregnant by mistake or whether they actually planned to be a parent and read on the many duties of a parent.

Child upbringing is more than just adorning our kids in the same cloth North West wore to the BETS or showing our awesome genes or showing off how financially upright we are based on the number of countries our little children have visited even before they clocked one. And it is definitely not about how many passports our kids can boast of having.

It is more than that, way more than that.

Children are the greatest gifts from God and we are their custodians on earth. Many of us protect our phones and jewellery more than we protect our children. Some of us even lock our rooms and go out with the keys while we leave our kids with the housemaids. When you have children and engage the services of a house help, that money you want to spend on Aso-Ebi and beads, biko, convert it into funds and get a CCTV and install in your house. Some kids suffer a lot of trauma in the hands of these maids and other helps we have around; the laundry man, the gate man, the gardener, the cook, the driver, that it leaves them damaged for life. 

And children most times, do not reveal what they go through as they have already being threatened by these people. Most of these children grow up with this resentment deeply etched in their memories and transfer the suppressed anger and frustration to their parents, most especially to the mother, who would not understand why the kid is usually angry and upset with her.

Let’s stop sending our under aged children down the street to go and buy stuff because we seem too busy or to keep sending our daughters to the teenage boy/girl staying at the neighbour’s house that’s still with raging hormones.

Guard your child like they are your salvation path to heaven and your only source of happiness in this life. They are too young to protect themselves. When you bring a soul to this earth, care for it until your dying bed. Let’s be ready before embarking on motherhood/fatherhood so we can have quality children rather than many walking shells that seem to be abundant these days.

Yoruba people call it "omo pon bi osan". 

Child upbringing is an extremely tasking and demanding job and you don’t stop nurturing a child even after the marriage of such child. We should nurture them until our dying breath. Some of our children need us more than ever, even after marriage. Some spouses are spawns of Satan and the first beneficiary of such evil would be their spouses. Look after your child even when they think they do not need you again.

My mum, my prison guard and mother hawk of those days that deprived me of so much "childhood dreams of sleeping over at any friend's place or going for excursions" and who I resented for some time due to this, despite my marital status still calls me almost all the time and was even at my place over the weekend to assist with stocking up our refrigerator with all manners of sauce, stew and food and even rearranged my kitchen as I sat down gisting and taking pictures, while my hubby as usual was in the living room doing what he knows best, munching on some of the delicacies she had prepared with the TV remote possessively in his hands, watching Sound City and with little care in the world, knowing his mum-in-law would prepare enough food to last the Salvation Army.

A child would always be a child and the Lord has kept us, especially mothers (lool, see me claiming as if I have 3 already but soon sha) on earth to nurture them till our last dying breath.

Guard your child from external forces as I am sure many of us were guarded by our parents; unnecessary excursions, sleepovers, minor or major errands down the street, unnecessary relatives we cannot vouch for, strange house helps, unwarranted closeness with neighbours without any chaperone etc.

Where your child is concerned, treat every other person apart from you like a criminal, until they prove otherwise.