Ducks & Drakes

Ring the alarm..believe me, there's trouble in the land folks.

If our parents thought they saw it all in marriage, they must have be deluded. What my generation has turned marriage into will make even the toughest of hearts quiver.

Hitherto, Nigerian married men were the ones blazing the trail in extra-marital affairs. They were on a roll and the men thought life couldn't be any rosier. Well, look again fellas. The women are no longer smiling o.

A friend of mine shared his experience with me last week. A newly married lady in her twenties is a contact on his BlackBerry. She's been married for just under two years. They started talking and at some point, the conversation took a funny dimension. To his utmost despair, the 'wife' overtly and lucidly suggested a physical affair. She didn't just suggest it, she asked for and tabled details of what would constitute an erotic orgy in her books. Interestingly, her BlackBerry status read 'Loving you makes my life beautiful' with a kiss smiley. I assume she puts up the 'My hubby is the best in the world' display pictures often too.

I have met another young man who once dated a married mother of two whose family is based abroad. She found an excuse to come into Lagos, left her husband and kids and was camped in a hotel somewhere in Lagos with my bachelor friend. Her wedding band never left her finger.

A very close acquaintance of mine ran into an old friend during his NYSC orientation camp in Ipaja. She had changed a lot. She had added some flesh but she was now married with a 3 year old daughter. Like they say 'like play, like play', they started talking and before he knew it, the lady was asking to see him at her house. He eventually paid her a visit in her matrimonial home and she did everything but put up a neon sign saying 'Let's have sex'. My friend feigned 'deaf, dumb and blind'. He ran away that day with a bulge in his pants muttering 'the dog that runs lives to fight another day'. I laughed very hard.

The women have seen the light! They have eaten the fruit from the 'tree in the middle of the garden'. They have grabbed the bull by the horns. After all, what is good for the drake is also good for the duck.

Recently, a DNA scientist submitted that three out of ten Nigerian men are not the biologic fathers of the kids that currently call them Daddy. What this means is that, even if they were by chance present in the room during conception, their DNA couldn't have jumped in to fertilize their wives eggs. Many people think this statistic is hyperbolic. They say, yes, its bad but certainly not that bad. I, on the other hand, am in acquiescence with that figure.

What really has gone wrong? When and how did we feed our morals and values to dogs?

The men no doubt introduced the concept of infidelity. They developed the concept and perfected its execution. That, it would eventually be mastered by the wives is something I strongly doubt they foresaw or planned for.

I always enjoy comparing my generation to that of my parents. Till date, I am still quite uncertain as to how many women my grandfather espoused. All I know for sure is that he was an intensely virile man, judging by the number of first-, middle- and last cousins I have. These men were doyens of polygamy. The concubines sometimes even outnumbered the legal wives. They chased women like diabetics in hot pursuit of a trucks laden with insulin. Yet, the women managed to remain 'pious' and undauntedly loyal. Don't get me wrong, I am sure a couple of them had extra-marital affairs but it certainly was not as brazen and blatant as it is today. Today, my generation is the duck and drake one. The man cheats and its okay, but the woman is bad when she does?

I will never endorse sexism. I will continue to condemn a man who marries one woman and beds another, irrespective of his reason. All I am saying is two wrongs will never make a right. Okay, so the wife too now cheats! So what? Has the problem now disappeared? Is the home any less vile and terminal? I truly feel for women sometimes, they are occasionally very unlucky when saddled with irresponsible randy husbands while society expects them to act like everything is fine. Its detestably unfair! But, objectively, it is the lesser of the two evils. In fairness, a woman is more likely to contact STD's than a man following sexual contact. I know what you are thinking, even Nature sometimes favours the male gender.

Many people believe women have a higher threshold for putting up with crap before they resort to infidelity. They believe that it takes a lot for a woman to finally cheat on her insolent husband. They say the man must have shown her hell and its four corners before she gives up and looks for a willing alternative source of companionship. I can understand that, the lady chasing my NYSC friend no longer called the man she married her husband, she addressed him as the 'father of her daughter' and she was ready and willing to defile their matrimonial bed with my good friend. Her husband was 'that' bad!

Another school of thought believes that a woman should not get to that point of resorting to infidelity. They believe the woman should endeavor to work the sails before the boat drifts off to sea. They think she should quickly make some adjustments to win back her deviant husband. Again, its grossly unfair, that she's the one who should try to make changes while the man loafs around. Certainly, a man who will cheat will cheat even with any marked change the woman makes. But the effort may count for something. How would she ever know if she does not try?. If you nag over small issues, stop it. If you have added significant weight and lost your spark to the demands of running a home, then get in shape. Make your hair, plan outings and dress to kill (figuratively, of course!). If its fatigue and loss of libido, push yourself a bit. Try to do your bit and leave the rest to God. Note, that I have seen men with incredibly hot wives cheating. The reason why they do it remains a mystery.

Its not all bad news though. I have also met men who do not cheat. I have met those who used to cheat but have now found their way like the biblical prodigal son. They are now prim and proper. There are likewise others who haven't cheated but have contemplated it at some point. Some have not even thought about it but eventually will. It may never occur to a few others. Change they say is constant and people change. I know all the women reading will claim the last category of men. God is watching you o!

This dangerous trend of married cougars on the loose is profoundly scary. Not just is it not healthy medically and spiritually. It is also worrisome to and for their accomplices -the young bachelors. They subconsciously imbibe the new meaning marriage is given by this their misadventure with married women. The insightful ones would have imagined how their own marriages would turn out if the tables ever turned or if karma really existed. Gradually, they lose faith in the institution of marriage and the rot will continue unabated.

My generation befuddles me greatly. You go see tire!

I read a simple tweet yesterday. It was short but deep.

'Many are married but few are happy'.

Don't leave this page with your thoughts. Drop them in the comment box. I'd really like to read them.




Follow @drwalls28 on Twitter.

A Burdened Heart

I met a young man over the weekend and we talked for some time. He talked at length about his relationship and I found it interesting. With his permission, I decided to share his story.

This is not fiction.

Dave is a young lawyer. He's had a stable job as a junior counsel in a government ministry for about a year and a half and he struggles everyday to meet up with expenses and the small responsibilities he has. The typical Lagos 'Guy-man'. Life has been pretty fair to him. He is under 30,  with a decent job and a supportive family. He isn't rich, certainly not but has an outlandish ambition to make money on his own. Unfortunately, he picked a career where you feed on peanuts while on the lowest rung of the career ladder. Only the big boys made all the money in his discipline. He wasn't planning to wait however.

He was a fairly decent person as far as Nigerian men went. He was not particularly wayward and his worst habits were his unrepentant craze for English football and a few green bottles of lager with his friends every once in a while. He has decent friends too. Ambitious, remarkably intelligent and well brought up young men with large hearts. He was careful with the company he kept and tried to do his best to live right.

Dave met and started dating Rose some nine months ago. He was blown away by her humility and charm. She was incredibly smart and initially had slight difficulty with getting paid employment after her NYSC. He tried his best to be as supportive as he could be and soon, Rose was the toast of his parents. He was immensely proud of what she had achieved at her young age. Their ages differed by a handful of years and Rose was the youngest female Dave had ever dated. He actually appreciated their age gap. He believed it would afford them the opportunity to age gracefully together. He found it amusing that his Mum became so fond of Rose. She would call and ask when next Rose was visiting. He had to constantly curb the over-zealousness on their part. He hadn't married her, after all.

Rose was young and full of life and Dave endeavored to be liberal with her. He was an easy going person who believed adults should have and deploy their initiative in all their dealings. Thus he let Rose be. He let her go out. He let her do what she perceived what best for her and only offered advice and guidance when necessary. He encouraged openness and freedom of expression. He was also a decently faithful person. Even at times when Rose was away for days, he remained doggedly committed in the face of a plethora of advances from other ladies. He thought he was doing what was best for the relationship and he was happy doing it.

Rose was also a largely decent girl. She was very soft spoken too and was pretty admirable except for the occasional silliness that appeared normal for a girl of her age. She was not very difficult to please but she was obstinate. Obstinate with a capital O. She didn't take kindly to being told she had to improve on anything. She was also very proud. She preferred to suffer quietly than beg for anything or anyone. She hardly asked for much, not that Dave was miserly also. They once had an altercation over something Dave thought was not a big deal and it would turn out to be heresy to her. He only expected her to take note of his observations and see if anything could be done about them. She felt he had been inappropriate and insensitive while expressing his discomfort and he promptly apologised. She forgave him easily, forgetting was the hard part.

Following their altercations and the way she took them, he began walking on eggshells. He knew it wasn't entirely healthy but he didn't want to hurt her since according to her, he was quite acetic and caustic with words. So, he started talking less and bottled more things. Even though he was a genuinely pleasant person who laughed a lot and made people around him laugh too, his temperament was just as malignant. He had however managed his anger well and hardly ever got to that boiling point again. But he knew deep inside, he could quickly hit that threshold if he actively engaged in imbroglios. So he just shut up! He was disturbed by her reactive nature. He understood that she was rather young and definitely had not seen as much as he had in life but he also thought as an adult, she had to appreciate that criticisms are not always condescending. He believed she was not secure about herself and her personality and wanted to help her so much but he asked me 'Wole, how do you help someone who doesn't want to be helped?'. I stared blankly. The answers just weren't coming.

At her age, he was still in University and he remembered how much fun he had as an undergraduate. He didn't want to appear stifling so he let her go out as often as she wanted. He tried not to ask too many questions as to whom she was going with and how long she would be gone for. He gave her a very long rope, hoping she would not eventually hang herself with it, either by commission or omission. Then, he started thinking to himself. Lagos was a funny place. He saw girls doing all sorts of things because of the materialistic nature of the society and started wondering if he was not too liberal with his girlfriend. He trusted her to remain decent but he asked how far the fabric of decency could be stretched before the threads parted. She had friends who knew many rich men, married and otherwise. He didn't see anything wrong with hanging out with her friends but the part with the men ruffled him a little. While trying to reassure himself that he was not insecure and paranoid, he also weighed the risks associated with her constantly putting herself in 'harm's way'.

Nigerian men are dirty and those with money expect a certain pattern of behaviour from young ladies who flock around them. While it is not a hard and fast rule, many believe their money should grant them unfettered access into any girl's underwear (for those that wear any of course). They have had too many of such girls to make their mindsets skewed into believing most girls work like that. The men leave their wives at home and organise outings with young girls who are full of life and fun and give them a good time. Its platonic as far as Dave thought but he wondered why he kept thinking it sounded funny to him that a married man called up his girlfriend anytime he wanted to hang out with his buddies. He was an introvert. He couldn't afford most of those luxuries so he stayed indoors a lot and he started wondering if he was that boring. He asked 'Wole, is my girlfriend a 'call girl' that a couple of money bags can call up when they need girls who want to have a good time?' My mouth was very dry. I ploughed through my cerebrum, nothing was coming. It didn't sound right to me either, but I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.

Dave does not believe Rose will do anything stupid or cheat on him. She seems happy being in a relationship with him. But lately, she's 'different' he says. She's confrontational. He always manages to upset her and she takes no prisoners when she's letting him know how hurt she is. He really never complains about her hurting him. Not that she doesn't but because he takes it in his stride and just attributes  it to her youth and probably naivety and for the fact that he believes relationships are about being accommodating, being tolerant and not bickering over 'small stuff'. He claims he genuinely forgives her, even when he's the one who eventually apologises in spite of who's at fault. He feels she's not as respectful as an intending wife should be. Yes, he wants her to be able to talk freely but he wants to know where to draw the line between recalcitrance and freedom of expression. He wants to know if she is not taking his meekness for weakness. He's asking if its healthy for a man to perceive his wife-to-be as being insubordinate. He made it very clear that he really does not want a robot as a wife, but at the same time, his ego is badly bruised by her sharp retorts coupled with his vow of silence when upset. He's worried he's beginning to look like a weakling. He asked me if he should dump the 'nice guy' and become 'African' and wield the big stick since she's taking him for granted.

I am not married and my relationship is relatively young itself, fraught with its own complexities. I couldn't proffer any advice as I thought long and hard so I promised I would ruminate and sample opinions on his subject. He's thinking of asking her straight up if she wants a break. He knows he'll be distraught because he can't imagine life without her but he's starting to paint that picture somewhere in his mind. He would rather she left now if she wanted to so he could invest his life and time in someone or something else, instead of postponing the evil day. On the other hand, she's significantly younger than him. Is it 'youthful exuberance'? Is that why she's spontaneous and reactive? Is she just too young to comprehend the gravity of a relationship which a guy strives to consummate at an altar? Is her mind too young to handle the complexities and the unending sacrifices that relationships entail?

To the best of his knowledge she does not want to leave. So she says at least. Unfortunately, sometimes, her mannerisms suggest someone who's not entirely ready to be in a relationship.

So. I have tried to tell his story verbatim. There's trouble in Dave's paradise and he needs help. Someone needs to listen to him. Apparently, I was the wrong person to turn to for advice as it was all new to me too. The best I could do was to blog his story. And yes, I suggested 'Why not tell her how you feel?'. He just smiled. 'I tread softly with her Wole, I doubt she can handle how I feel...I end up hurting her when I'm trying to tell her' he responded.

If you have read to this point, I implore you not to leave without leaving a word of advice for Dave. He knows this post is up now and he's waiting to read from you. A line is just as good as a paragraph. Just endeavor to leave something for the young man.

Thank you for your time.

Do You Have A Heart Of Gold?

'A bone to a dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog' - Jack London 1876-1916.

One sunny Saturday afternoon in August, I was privileged to be invited by a young lady with a very large heart to an outing to mark her birthday. This was not a regular outing. Just as she was not a regular young lady. She is a lawyer and her good nature is almost infectious. Surreal, as a matter of fact.

The outing was not the regular like I said. She implored me to join her and a couple of her friends at the Heart of Gold Hospice in Surulere. She deemed it appropriate to share her joy with the children at HOG. I found it immensely admirable and I did not think twice about obliging. So, I drove down to join them in Surulere. I knew where HOG was. I had driven past many times as it was situated on a major road in Surulere. It was very hard to miss. I had however, never gone in. I just drove past and used it as a landmark when describing locations in Surulere.

We interacted with many of the kids. Most had congenital birth defects and were abandoned at birth. They had no say in their destinies, they did not get to choose. They were born to lousy parents and fate had become their best friend. The commonest pathology afflicting the kids there is Cerebral Palsy. This is a congenital problem that usually arises from brain damage usually sequel to perinatal accidents. Usually in this environment, the common cause is birth asphyxia, where the neonate does not spontaneously establish respiration and oxygen supply to the young and fragile brain is disrupted causing a part of that brain to die off from this acute lack of oxygen supply. Many times, it arises from poor care of the parturient, either by her own doing or by an inadequate and inefficient health care system. Unfortunately, the babies unjustly pay the price for our ineptitude as Nigerians.

I also met the Mama HOG. A woman who has dedicated her entire life to caring for the kids sane Nigerians brought into this world and abandoned. She is tireless and passionate about caring for those kids. She sees hope in an a seemingly hopeless situation. Medically, the prognosis of Cerebral Palsy in this part of the world is quite guarded and it can get very frustrating caring for brain damaged children. But, she does not falter. She wakes up everyday and calls them 'her gold'. The same children some of the deviant parents inundated God with prayers to have.

Eventually after playing with the kids, we all had to leave and I was deeply touched by the experience. It made me reflect on how unfairly generous life had been to me and my siblings. Those kids could have been any of us. We didn't choose just as they didn't. Nobody chooses to be that way. Life just happens.

The hospice runs on charity basically. They have administrative costs and overhead expenses that take care of feeding, medicare, clothing and staff salaries. They do not get a chunk of the national budget like the militants and subsidy thieves do. They depend on goodwill and magnanimity of kind hearted Nigerians. What this means is that, there is no certain source of income. Some months will pass with a flurry of donations (especially around the festive seasons) and some other months will pass with only a few drops of oil in their engine.

I was immensely grateful to my friend for inviting me. She is younger than I am but she taught me a valuable lesson about life that Saturday, albeit, a lesson I always knew but needed a refresher course on. Life deals cards to us as it deems fit. We will continue to be at the mercy of fate. We can only pray and wish it sits kindly on us. She also reminded me about the need to be charitable at all times. The kids will continuously need our help as there will be more of them going into such homes. If human stupidity was a stock, its price would be soaring on the stock exchange at the moment. Especially in this entity called Nigeria. There will always be abandoned kids in our midst just as the Bible says the poor will always be amongst us. The question is, how high is our threshold for giving?

The name Babatunde Raji Fashola means different things to different people in Lagos. I am ambivalent about him. Partly because I do not agree with his politics and policies sometimes. Yes, he sacked me and about 800 of my colleagues a few months ago, however, it will be criminal for me not to commend his benevolence by putting up the structure that currently houses the hospice in Surulere. To those kids, not all God's angels are winged celestial beings. To them, God's angel is a left-handed legal practitioner-cum-Governor.

I will however supplicate that more of such hospices are sited in high brow areas. I will explain. There's a motherless babies home in Lekki. It is sited right in the midst of 'big men' who reside in the ostentatious estate. By commission or omission, the home gets appreciable attention from their affluent neighbours. Some of the wealthy folks visit and send gifts to the home as an act of penitence to God for their dodgy ways. I said some, not all. Others do so because they are genuinely kind and humane at heart. Either way, the kids in the home get to enjoy small luxuries every now and then. Let us site other hospices in 1004, Victoria Garden City, Parkview, Banana Island and the other sophisticated residential estates in the metropolis. We must continue to seek the attention of wealthy folks. If they don't answer us at first, at some point, their chubby over-fed kids will ask 'Daddy, what goes on inside that place?'

To the young people who are caught up in the Brazilian hair-iPad3-Blackberry-iPhone5 vanity fair, we must emulate people like my young lawyer friend. Even when you do not have much to give, make plans to celebrate occasions with those kids. Invite your friends for your parties there and let them see that life has a part 2! Make the hospice visible to your friends and acquaintances. You never know who would be touched to help and you'll take credit for that goodwill. It is not enough to keeping updating 'Oniru beach....loading 70%' or 'Elegushi thinz' every birthday. Why not inculcate the habit of sharing your joy with kids who need care and affection. Trust me, Heaven will notice you and reward you in due time.

Do you have a heart of gold? That is the question...


If you haven't got any charity in your heart, you have the worst kind of heart trouble' - Bob Hope.

Nigeria Welcomes You

The KLM flight from Schiphol in Amsterdam had been in the air for eight hours. The pilot was initiating the final landing sequence. Murtala Muhammed International Airport Lagos was a few minutes away.

Mr Bob Becks looked out of his window, all he saw were bushes interspersed with a chaotic arrangement of roofing sheets. It briefly reminded him of his high school Physics lesson where his tutor explained the theory of Brownian motion of molecules. The buildings he saw from 20,000feet above were certainly arranged in that manner. He was also reminded of his son, Jack's first Lego's...they were everywhere and anywhere, reflective of the state of mind of a typical two-year old. Under his breath, he muttered 'Good Lord!'. Apparently, he had spoken it out loud.

Mr Greg Koller was in the seat next Bob. He chuckled and continued reading his book. He had noticed the fascination with which Bob stared out of the window at Lagos below. It reminded him of his own virgin Lagos trip. He was now accustomed to Lagos life and he was proud of himself.

'Amazing innit?' Greg said to Mr Becks, who is now jolted back to the pressurised cabin.

'Sorry?' he retorts.

'Lagos...I noticed you were captivated by the aerial view (guffaws), trust me, its much worse than it looks!' says Greg.

'Wow! Never seen anything like it' replies Bob.

'Oh, well...you get used to if after sometime though. It 's really an interesting city' says Greg.

Greg Koller is a Project Manager for a German construction company. He first visited Lagos in 2007, when he was posted from his hometown of Munich in Germany. Since then, he flew into Lagos almost on a monthly basis. There was always an ongoing project in Lagos and its environs. His construction company was thriving economically in Nigeria and it did not look like the flow was stopping anytime soon.

Mr Bob Becks on the other hand was visiting Lagos for the first time ever. An English by birth, he worked with a multinational auditing firm. He grew up in North London and raised his family there. He now had a son, Jack and a daughter, Emily, who was just nine months old with his dear wife, Kathy. Lagos was a new experience for him, he had never been to Africa.

Finally, the aircraft taxied to its terminal. The landing had been free of any drama and Bob had been perplexed when passengers started clapping once the plane touched the ground. He assumed it was some cultural ritual Nigerians did whenever they flew, especially as he noticed most of the people on board began praying fervently as the plane began its final descent. The overhead cabin signs came on and again the pilot welcomed the passengers to MMIA, he thanked them for flying KLM and urged them to remain seated and leave their seat-belts strapped on till the overhead lights went off. To Bob's surprise, half of the Nigerians scurried out of their seats as the pilot's instructions floated through and were already reaching for their hand languages in the overhead storage compartments.

Greg Koller laughed again when he saw the befuddled look on Bob's face.

'This is Lagos, Bob...instructions are taken with a pinch of salt' he said.

Bob Becks groaned. This was going to be a strange trip. He knew immediately.

In the lounge, he waited for his luggage while he quickly went through his mobile phone for any messages he may have missed while in transit. It was incredibly hot and he had started sweating under his shirt. He wondered if the air-conditioning was functional. Just then, he looked up and saw Greg walking towards him with his own luggage.

'Hi, Bob...how's it going?' Greg asked.

'Fine mate, just waiting for my luggage' replied Bob

'Oh, you may need to walk to that area over there to your right, apparently, the conveyor belt pulled a hamstring this morning' Greg said as he winked and walked towards Customs.

Bob's sweating suddenly became profuse. This was not the plan.

He got through Immigration fairly easily but noticed the Customs and Immigration officers kept greeting him repeatedly, as if he was missing something. They seemed officiously and profusely nice. He assumed it was the Nigerian hospitality he had read about back in London.

Finally, he was out. Many folks had offered to carry his luggage for him but he had declined. He wondered why they were so keen to help. He was yet to make any plans for transportation. He assumed there would be a quick airport shuttle train service down to the centre of the city. He however needed a quick smoke. Again, Greg came to the rescue. He was standing just by the exit, puffing hungrily on a stick of cigarette. He made his way towards Greg.

'Got an extra smoke?' he asked gaily.

'Sure!' said Greg as he offered him a light as well. 'Anyone picking you up?' continued Greg.

'Not at all..I assumed I could get on a shuttle to my hotel somewhere in Victoria Island' replied Bob as he checked a notepad where he had penned the name of his hotel.

'Oh I see...I'm staying around there too, my company chauffeur is bringing the car round, you could join us into town, if you want'.

Bob looked around and exclaimed 'I'd love that! Thanks indeed!'

The car finally arrived and the noise in the air was baffling. Bob had noticed very quickly that Nigerians shouted a lot. He wondered if they suffered from a regionally prevalent auditory pathology. The mobile policemen too were quite eager to assist in loading in the luggage into the trunk of the vehicle and they profusely repeated something he could not quite make out. It sounded like 'Oga, welcome, anything for your boys' or something of the sort. He hurriedly got into the car as he wondered why they wielded Kalashnikovs like they were expecting the Taliban to strike soon. He found it intriguing.

As they drove away from the airport into the pitch darkness of Lagos, he and Greg made small talk about his choice of vodka.

Bob: Is it always this dark in Lagos? The roads are so dark, I can barely see!

Greg (laughs): That's PHCN...note the name, you'll hear it often. This is Lagos and it is working.

Chauffeur (Edet): Yes o, Oga! Lagos is working o...Eko o ni baje (in thick Bakassi accent)

Bob: Eko what?

Greg: Not to worry Bob, apparently its some thing local folks say to amuse themselves around here.

Bob: I see...

They were now approaching Oshodi and the undulations on the road began to make him shudder.

Bob: Say, Mr Edet, I think you should have your shock absorbers checked out though!'

Edet: Ah! No be my shock absorber o...na so the road be Oga...e don even better now...before before, we no dey pass here for night...'

Greg: Oh Bob, not to worry...this is a fine road...you'll say I told you so after a week in this city (giggles).

Bob notices suddenly there's a long queue of cars as they drive further. The queue is about 200 meters long from his estimation and leads straight up to a gas station on the other side of the road.

Bob: Say, Greg, what are those? (pointing to the queue)

Greg: Errrr....Cars?

Bob: Yeah I can see that...I mean, what are they waiting for? Is there like an event going on there?

Greg: Oh, that's a fuel queue...there's a scarcity of petrol so these queues surface every now and then.

Bob: That's strange...I always thought Nigeria was one of the few African countries with rich crude oil deposits. Even Google said so when I looked up Nigeria at Heathrow...'

Greg: Well, you are right...Nigeria's just special...they drill oil but don't have petrol...errrr...its really hard to explain really so just forget about it....its one of the complexities of human existence I guess

They were now approaching Ikorodu road and traffic begins to move slowly, horns are blaring and cars are swerving right and left like rabid dogs. Bob notices a free lane on the right of the expressway and notices also there's a concrete barrier delineating that part of the road.

Bob: Say Greg, what's that for? (pointing to the concrete barricade)

Greg: Oh, remember when I told you in Lagos instructions are taken with a pinch of salt? Well, that's supposed to keep folks off that lane, it's dedicated to some fancy bus service that's rapid and efficient! Like I said, Lagos is working...'

Bob: But its in the middle of the expressway! Isn't that dangerous?

Greg: Dangerous? Nah...its not...the people know its there so its your business if you decide to run into it!

Edet: Yes o Oga, na wey traffic law don dey...if LASTMA  catch you for dia, e don be for you o!

Bob: LAST...what? What's that?

Greg: Oh, that's the traffic division, sort of like the DMV or traffic police. Ruthless fellows. They are mean bitches. They hardly smile! Avoid them! Trust me, you'll thank me later!

Bob: Wow, so much to learn...feel like I should be taking notes or something! Why do they blare their horns so much though, is it a competition or something?

Edet and Greg both burst out laughing.

Bob continues 'No, really, its amazing! And there are so many cars on the road...very narrow roads too...don't folks use the tube?'

Edet: Tube? Like hose? Oga you wan buy black market? Fuel dey the moto o!

Bob looks on, evidently very confused.

Suddenly a Danfo flies into their lane and Bob screams in trepidation.

Edet: Oga, wetin happen (looking startled), insect bite you?

Bob: Whoa! Did you see that? Dude drove like he was in a Fast Five audition! And he's not even wearing a seatbelt! And look at the fellow hanging at the door of the vehicle...Christ!

Edet: Haba, Oga na why you dey shout? I even think say dem thief your phone for that bus-stop wey we just pass sef. Hiss.

They are now in Apongbon traffic and suddenly sirens are blaring in the air. Traffic parts as if Moses just commanded the Red Sea.

Bob: Is that an ambulance or fire truck? Hope they get there on time before there's a casualty.

Greg: Nah...its just a VIP passing...no fire, no emergency...he just can't stand the traffic apparently. So Nigerians let them pass while they, the commoners, remain in the gridlock. Remember...

Bob:....yeah, Lagos is working...I remember!

Edet rememebers he has not had a meal since noon so he waves a young man selling Gala and another selling LaCasera. He buys one of each and Bob again seems puzzled.

Bob: Oh wow, so they can deliver this to your home on request? Or he stays around here? What's such a young man doing out this late anyway?

Edet:(now chewing) Ah Oga! e must sell finish before he go house o! Nigeria no easy o...

Bob begins to look closely at the hawkers in traffic. He saw everything from raw fruits to knives to fire extingushers to live puppies. He swallowed gently. All the while Greg was staring at him.

Greg: No worries my friend...at least they don't sell ammunition in traffic...

Bob: I was just going to ask if they did actually!

The three of them burst out in laughter just as they drove past a billboard on Outer Marina that read 'BRF is working...Lagos is working...Pay your taxes...Eko o ni baje!'

Eko for show!

Atuche: Giving To Caesar?

In many parts of the Bible, Jesus averred that we must make a habit of freely appropriating that which belongs to God and the authorities to them. One of such instances is in the book of Mark, where he responds to a rhetorical question about the legality of paying taxes by His now famous quote that 'Give to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's'.

By this statement, I assume Jesus meant, pay your taxes and give the respect and cooperation the authorities deserve from their citizens and also pay your tithes and give God adoration for as many and more blessings He bestows on you.

I always assumed this instruction was self-explanatory thus the reason I was taken aback when I read the news of how the EFCC was planning to arrest Catholic priests in Delta State because a devout and practising Christian obeyed words in the sacred book we read. Mr Francis Atuche (former MD/CEO of the now defunct Bank PHB) paid his tithe of N45million and the EFCC believes the Church helped him in laundering money. How dare them! This is the Church of God!!! Surely, they have invoked the wrath of God and the Christian faith!

Someone in the EFCC needs directions on matters of the Church. Someone in the EFCC needs to read his Bible. Mr Atuche only gave to the Church what belonged to the Church. He made a profit of N450,000,000 and being a pious Nigerian Church-goer, he issued cheques for exactly 10% of this income, just as the Bible instructed.

Churches in Nigeria have millions of people in their congregation. They converge every Sunday morning (and sometimes evening) from all walks of life to fellowship with their brethren. Knowing we are probably the most religious people on the face of the planet, Church 'business' in Nigeria is big 'business'. Francis Atuche is a man, who by default, was flawed at birth. The Church is made up of men and so by extrapolation, can be said to be imperfect itself.

The EFCC is of the opinion that Churches must ask their members for the source of their tithes and by proxy, the source of their income. How pragmatic this is remains to be seen. They need to clarify for us, if it is the Church's duty to investigate the income of its members and in the event they discover the wealth is dodgy, turn down such tithes. This is a big responsibility in my opinion.

Who does the tithe belong to? I believe it belongs to God. Should members ask what the tithe is used for? Some folks argue in the affirmative while others choose to differ. Should the Church ask where the tithe is from, knowing the money is for the Supreme Being?. The concept of tithe paying is really a pact or covenant between the payee and the payer. The men of God are really just the brokers of this covenant. They are middle-men. Should they ask questions? Should they frisk the payers? 

We must remember that Nigeria is an exceptionally corrupt nation. Public officers loot with impunity at the slightest opportunity. They are also very charitable. Some are not just charitable but also devout. While they pay tithes religiously, they are also magnanimous givers. They are the first to donate to motherless babies and less privileged. Are they less sinners when they 'share' their loot with the needy? Are they exculpated by their compassionate magnanimity and benevolence? Francis Atuche is one of millions of erring Christians who have painted the religion in bad light. From Asokoro to Banana Island to the Cayman Islands, Nigerian Christians have bilked others and religiously remitted their ten-percents to the House of God. To them, it may be some form of exorcism or an expression of penitence. Bear in mind that most of them are reprobate and their contriteness only lasts for a few hours on Sundays when they are 'in the presence of God'.

Churches have thieving civil servants, murderers, armed robbers, yahoo boys, Otokoto regulars, corrupt Bank executives, skilled pilfering politicians, militants and even 'corporate courtesans' paying their tithes weekly or monthly, however the case may be. Is the Church morally obliged to turn these people down when they come with their 'burnt offerings'. Where do we draw the line between obeying a simple instruction and being morally correct. Income is income. So, whose call is it to declare some offerings vile?

I expect that like Cain, Abel's brother, such shady offerings will not be accepted by God. In the event of this, should the Church not return such offerings to the errant fellow? Should the Church keep such 'unhealthy' tithes in its coffers? Does this not taint the moral fabric of the Church?

Unfortunately, while some Nigerian Churches collect tithes from deviants in total oblivion of their unscrupulous ways and means, some others do so without flinching. Recently, a former Governor who was docked by the EFCC for misappropriating more than N58billion of his State's resources visited my Church. I was not in the auditorium that day but I hear the congregation gave him a rousing round of applause when his presence at the service was announced. He may or may not donate generously to a building project in that Church. The congregation is the same one that prays every Sunday against bad leaders and corruption. They are not from Mars. They know the man is currently standing trial for public looting and grand larceny. Yet, he was applauded graciously.

I am not a priest. Will I ever be one, I do not know. I also do not know the why Churches do what they do. What I do know, however, is that at some point, we will exhaust the store of goodwill and mercy in Heaven if we continue on the path we currently tread.

Atuche is one man. There are many more from where that came from. We will see them next Sunday. In fact, one of the affected Bank chiefs was a deacon in a Church in Nigeria and is alleged to be one of the major financiers of an aircraft for the Church.

The EFCC must exercise caution. The priests did not coerce Atuche into paying his tithes. They did not write the Bible either. He did so on his own volition and as such, they should have no case to answer. This may sound reprehensible to anti-corruption campaigners. They are technically not accomplices in his crime. A law can be promulgated to compel Churches to report suspicious looking donations and offerings. There is a law that currently compels Nigerian banks to report transactions above certain amounts. This new law can be tailored similarly to meet the peculiarities of religious houses. Then and only then can we legally hold the priests responsible.

Our pastors and priests are also human beings. They are however expected to be morally 'super-human'. Yes, the Church has expenses and projects but they should also know where to draw the line. Even when they are not obliged to report such offerings or even investigate such people, setting a standard by not glorifying these miscreants will go a long way in reassuring their flock that truly, they are morally upright men.

Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones. And even, if they must, they should not face the walls when they do. Our Churches must stand up against corruption in every form. So help us God.

The question remains; Did Atuche give to God or to Caesar? Caesar being anybody you want him to be in this case.

Robert...Rich Dad Or Poor Dad?

Robert Kiyosaki is probably one of the most read authors in the world. Many years ago, I made an unusual effort to read his bestseller 'Rich Dad, Poor Dad'. At the time I read the book, the reasonable deduction I made was that, a man's future solely depended on how he invested his present. Many folks also made similar deductions after reading the book. He sounded like he had lived before and was giving advice on how he lived previously, the mistakes he made, the corrections he made in the new life and the remarkable results those corrections produced. He blew many away and his about, 15 publications sold a whopping 26million copies globally.

Yesterday, I was again reminded that indeed the Bible knows all. Somewhere in the book of Ecclesiastes, King Solomon sagely states that '...but that time and chance happens to them all'. 

Yesterday, Mr Kiyosaki filed for corporate bankruptcy. Time and chance happens to even the smartest of us.

After many years of advising many average families on means and models of investing their present, most people never imagined 'Kiyosaki' and 'Bankruptcy' would ever be in the same sentence. It just sounded like folly. It could be likened to saying Usain Bolt could not outrun a toddler who was riding a plastic tricycle. Its just strange to imagine. Personally, the only thing I could utter was 'Na wah o'.

While I agree nobody is perfect and to err is totally human, I believe somethings should not be attributed to some individuals. Many homes have adopted his models for investment, in a bid to outsmart the uncertain future. The copy I read was lying around somewhere in my house at the time. I suspect my father procured one too to intimate himself of the wonders from Kiyosaki's pen. I doubt he ever foresaw a bankrupt Kiyosaki. It was heresy.

So the question is, what went wrong?

Before I proceed, let me clarify the fact that Mr Kiyosaki is insolvent does not necessarily translate to him being broke. No. On the other hand, he may still be quite rich. It does not mean he'll starve or be unable to pay his bills. Far from that. He still has money and he will probably still die a comfortable man. One of his companies was ordered to settle a smaller company some millions of dollars and for whatever reason Kiyosaki believes he is not capable of fulfilling that financial obligation. He then proceeded to court to file for insolvency. His real reasons, we may never know.

What bothers me is not his current account balance in the bank but the degree to which the 'Rich Dad, Poor Dad' and the 'Robert Kiyosaki' brands will be hurt. Believe it or not, brands are what they are. Precious and sacred. Eventually, a brand can gross more in earnings than an entire board of a medium sized business. Brands are powerful and the 'Kiyosaki' brand is not an exception. A misadventure such as bankruptcy can permanently damage the image of the brand and such damage will, sooner or later, take a toll on gross earnings accrued to the man himself.

The integrity of a brand must be guarded jealously. With sweat and blood. Sometimes in the murky waters of the corporate world, one may not get the luxury of second chances. 

More recently, there was the story of a missing iPad on a local commercial flight in Nigeria. The supposed victim, a vociferous social media user, launched a barrage of media campaigns against the airline. The series of campaigns culminated in the airline asking to meet with the blogger and quietly shaking hands and brokering peace with a new computer. The airline understood the importance of keeping the reputation and integrity of a brand sacred. Sometimes, and most times, a stitch in time saves nine.

I know of a small scale businesswoman in Lagos. Some years back, she took a brave step into the world of branding her own weaves. The brand was well accepted in the market and was gradually establishing itself as a relevant market player. This trend continued till a few customers complained about the quality of the product. She was forced to investigate and eventually discovered pirates had cashed into the sprouting brand. They had started repacking and reselling lower quality products in the name of her brand. She swore to haunt them down and she did, at least at the time. I wondered why the aggression on her part and her response was quite insightful. She said, piracy was the beginning of the demise of any brand. Once integrity is breached, it is only a matter of time. For a small business like hers, time was not a luxury she had, especially at that budding stage of its existence.

Entrepreneurs must learn from Mr Kiyosaki's dilemma today. It is important to have a good start, but like in figure-skating, the end is also just as important, if not more crucial. 

No man knows it all. Even the best of us falter. No matter how implausible or inconceivable it may be, time and chance can happen to anyone and anything. 

My friend opined yesterday that he fears for the next book Mr Kiyosaki will publish. Its not likely many people looking to build global empires would rush to the book-stands upon its release. 

After-all, Mr Kiyosaki yesterday announced to the world he's not quite sure which, even him the author is. A poor dad or a rich dad.

Make hay while the sun shines...