Navigating friendships in adulthood…

You’re probably the worst person to write about friendships. But you cease to be in denial of having a fair share of beautiful, average, and ugly friendships. Friends are like seasons—some are sunshine; some are rainfall; some are whirlwinds. Like seasons, they’re connected to us for reasons. Some come and go, while others last for a lifetime.

You’ve always been fascinated by childhood friendships and teenage love. Especially the ones that stood the paradigm of shift, redefinition, and reorientation. You were a conservative weird child, but had friends whom you thought you would share what you had as children to your adult age and even in death, but somehow life happened.

As a teenager and young adult, you’ve had deep connections with people held together by the bond of friendship, but it somehow got loosened by unexplainable forces.

“What happened to us?”

“We used to be close. How did we drift so apart?”

Dreams change. Goals change. Orientation and views evolve. Classes swirl. People experience upward progression and downward regression.

Maybe, that’s what happened.

My mother, in situations like this, will use the clause, agbaịtazihi m ọsọ, I’m out of the league.

Do you ever look back and wish you’d take something dear or a mental flex tape to patch the leaking spot of your friendship?

You both are adults. You’ve somehow replaced them or pretend to have replaced them. You’re in different cities, busy trying to do life and survive. You view each other’s Snap Stories, statuses, and Insta Stories; other times, you stalk them on their socials. You always repress the urge to reach out first, simply because ego is in the way of your alter ego.

One day, you swallowed the urge to reach out and asked “What happened to us?”

But their energy didn’t match yours. It was below par. No iota of missing, no spark, no effort; let alone rekindling whatsoever thing.

Now you’re ageing. Like a snake, as you’re wearing off the exoskeleton of each phase of your life, so are your friends and community.

Making new friends in adulthood is by far one of the most difficult things. You happen to have this opinion because you believe that childlike innocence and carefreeness stand as the like poles that attract both people together. Adult friendship is most of the time, transactional. For someone who is short of the currency and is struggling to get hands-on at least a penny, you admire people who do it seamlessly. But work and career propel you to do better.

It feels awkward trying to wear that garment of childhood in friendships and meeting new people. What if everything falls apart again? What if they’re satisfied with their circle?

What if you…?

Too many “what ifs?”

Again, you ruminate the question, “what happened to you?” “what happened to me?” “what happened to us?”

You’d sternly warn people and make jokes about calling you unannounced, both on voice and video call. Like, what in the world? But I’ve appreciated every single person who called me lately. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for not minding how I’d react. Thank you for reaching out and checking on me regardless of my stubbornness and carelessness in friendship. Not everyone will keep up with someone like me. Maybe, I’m like Timaya.

When I was writing this, a call came in. It was from a friend. We’ve not talked like God knows how long, but it felt so light after we talked and laughed.

An Igbo man would say that ara di na udi, na udi, madness comes in degrees. But that of one of the world acclaimed democracies has this craziness(madness) in all its shades of “awesomeness”.

We would have been done with everything election but we’re in an entanglement if postponement and electoral corrupt practices. They have its claws wrapped around us to the point that we succumb to their decisions and will.

It all began in 1900 when Maazị Okeke, Alhaji Ciroma, Mr Babatunde and others were living in separate harmony. They had their individual and tribal differences, variegated perspectives on important issues and cling unto them as part of who they are. Unlike others, Maazị Okeke was receptive to new ideas and changes. He was free and more innovative. There were claims that Ciroma and Babatunde were limited by traditions and religion which has become part of them. Ciroma is obsequious.

The union marked the beginning of the discordant. The state of the nation’s democracy is suicidal. The just concluded elections fantastically described the acme of demo(crazy) in Nigeria.

Angelina as the Igbo would say, ewego ka onye nwenu ga-ama, Angelina has taken away enough for the owner to notice.

Mr Okeke has a brother, Okafor is the name. So do Babatunde, and Ciroma. The siblings of the three big brothers rose to become minor ethnic nationalities who would in the future rear its head for recognition and significance. They used to practice a shabby democracy but over the years the acclaimed democracy turned volte-face as a result of the foundational issues which can be traced since their independence from Angelina.

He wrote, “I’ve tried my best for APC, the party style of democracy in Oyo State kills my conscience and I’ve to put my people’s interest first. I’ve realized that the youths and the people will continue to be at the mercy of few at the top. I’ll announce my new political party on 21|06|22.” — Shina Peller

The children of the Union made a deliberate consensus to put an end to the mishaps. They campaigned for good governance, for accountability, for inclusivity and immediately, for attention to the PoPo uprising in toto. These children were majorly descendants of Maazị Okeke and Mr Babatunde.

At this time, democrazy reached its acme. Angelina’s people has turned all the people occupying governmental positions into stooges. The interest of the people and of the state was chained and thrown into abyss. The children of the Union has searched for the cure to this political madness all to no avail. The madness is systemic. But they found an antidote. He came from the blood line of Maazị Okeke. He is different. He has a good and verifiable track record of political portfolio.

Sadly, the ruling class(crass) and elites conspired against him simply because he’d bring a reasonable degree of normalcy to the state and the people. Regardless, he gave it a shot, and there was an election. One of the biggest and existential in the country’s history. It was a race that majored Mr Peter Obi of Labour Party and Bola Ahmed Tinubu of All Progressive Congress.

Usually, results are announced immediately after elections. In fact, this year’s exercise was expected to be faster as a result of the introduction of a modern device— BVAS(Biomodal Voter Accreditation System). Instead, the electoral body took its time for their gross misconduct and announced the result days after while the citizens were sleeping. The incumbent president, even after being called out to leave the legacy of free and fair elections made a tweet which read:

“I congratulate His Excellency @officialABAT on his victory. Elected by the people, he is the best person for the job. I shall now work with him and his team to ensure an orderly handover of power. The election was Africa’s largest democratic exercise. In a region that has undergone backsliding and military coups in recent years, this election demonstrates democracy’s continued relevance and capability to deliver for the people it serves. Within Nigeria, the results reveal democracy’s ripening in our country. Never has the electoral map shifted so drastically in one cycle.”

PMB has a track record of making completely opposite speech or tweet. He did the same when the question of who ordered the killings at Lekki tollgate was addressed to the presidency. Always giving a fine off point speech.

Here reads the analysis of Howard W. French, a columnist at Foreign Policy, a professor at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism, and a longtime foreign correspondent.

‘The election he won came on the heels of some extraordinary political chicanery, after the government withdrew the national currency from circulation to replace it with newly printed bills. In the chaotic weeks before the vote, Nigerians struggled to even access their bank accounts, making everyday life incredibly hard. Little wonder, then, that in nearby Ghana, a country of only 30 million people, 13 million voted in the last election, whereas in Nigeria, a country of 200 million, 24 million did. With it so hard to simply get by in Nigeria, it would be hard to design a better way to suppress voter turnout than the currency-swap scheme, even if that wasn’t the explicit goal.’

On Tuesday, 21 March, filed petition against the APC. It is titled PETER OBI & LABOUR PARTY V INEC, BOLA TINUBU, APC, & KASHIM SHETTIMA. This is rooted on three grounds which reads—

1. That BAT was ineligible to contest the election.

2. The election was invalid by reason of corrupt practices or non-compliance with the provisions of the Electoral Act 2022

3. BAT was not duly elected by majority the lawful votes cast at the election.

As events unfolds in the future, we would ascertain the degree of the craziness of our democracy. It is said that if a mad man wears off his wrapper, the next place to enter is the market place. Such level of madness is obviously incurable.

“Pain demands to be felt.”

The in betweenness is the wait. People wait for many things.

For love.

For a job.

For healing.

For promotion.

For life partner.

For a child(ren).

For forgiveness.

For academic success.

For return on investments.

For business/career breakthroughs.

For the call or mail that will change the course of their life for the best.

In a general sense, people wait for many things. They believe that those things they hope for will definitely happen. The Christians will wait for God’s time. Naturals will wait for the universe’s time. And this will become or becomes their miracle. However, behind the wait, there are huge sacrifices and or investment, nights of weeping, a firm grip on strength, patience and perseverance that will be required through the tumultuous storm.

Someone once tweeted that it’s very hard to want something and watch others get it while you wait in fragmented hope that it’d happen to you.

It really is! Like, am I not good enough?

Am I undeserving of good things?

Has the universe and the whole forces in it conspired against me?

When I was a child, in primary school precisely, I was a very brilliant child. Not particularly studious. This isn’t sidelining studying in academic success but the place of reading on my activity radar is somewhere in the middle. First position was my other name. There came a competitor, all I could remember about this figure was that he was the son of a police officer. That term I fell ill that I was admitted in Nnenne’s home-hospital. I had a challenge in my academics— meeting up in class attendance, copying notes, writing quizzes, exams and all. I took the last paper orally at my house.

When we closed for the term, another name was called for the first position contrary to the old and consistent taker, Chidimma Nwafor. My teacher brought my exam sheet as well as my result later in the evening and I took the usual. Gossip flew into my ear that I slagged and this police boy emerged the first in my class. I waved it because I maintained my position. As at the time, I never knew that two persons can actually have same score thus maintaining the same position. School resumed and I confirmed that we scored the same thing.

Now about waiting, the next term, my parents said that if I take the first position, they’d buy me a fancy bicycle. Do you know what that meant? Well, I’d be richest, coolest and biggest kid in my hood.

It felt like the longest term.

I studied. Prayed. When the wait was over, I won. I took the first position. Disappointedly, the bicycle didn’t come.

Writing in hopeful anticipation of the real result of the 2023 general elections in Nigeria. I am for Mr Peter Gregory Obi. People like me and others are anxiously waiting for the next step after the sham of INEC picked their president. We are waiting for the outcome of challenging the result. This is our wait.

In life there will always be in-betweens; this is the time that prepares us ahead of what we asked for. It’s like the preparation room. In this room a lot of temptations are thrown at us. How do we wade off these temptations?

Simply put on your apparel of courage, perseverance, long suffering, patience and anything that would make you hold firmly onto that dream. Let the words of May serve as a tendon between your bone and the bone of your dream or purpose.

“You have to keep pursuing it until you get that tingle that tells you that you’ve found something that’s magical to you”.

Two month old new year

March 2, 2022…

‘Happy New Year’.

‘Today’s 2nd, sixty days old’.

‘So long as I’ve not seen you this year, even if I do when the year is in its sixth month, I’d still say Happy New Year’.

Well, to some the exchange of New Year pleasantries is valid till any date of the year while to some it expires on 11:59pm on January 1. I belong in the first category. On that note, Happy New Year!

Over the years, especially since five years ago, a number of changes has taken place in the most important aspect of my life. Prior to this, I dreaded change like death. This was serious that I hardly let go of clothes if I have a change or upgrade of wears. I have feelings for and cling to them as though they are animated. Then, how much more humans— family, friends, colleagues. As a child growing into adolescent, I dread the changes — physical changes that comes with adolescence. But life happened and I embraced change and quit dreading death too. And that I’m about to do this year and years to come.

The highlight of my 2022 is graduating from uni. I am a graduate of History and International Studies.

Personally, being schooled in Nigeria is a trap. The one with lots of stress, time consuming and their imposing timetable. These will make you to just focus on everything on the school curriculum particularly the academic calendar. You’d find it really difficult to acquire skills or upskill if you’re also working. Then getting yourself cleared and one’s result is a different ball game. It’s just crazy going from one office to another to get their cranky stamp on your form. At the end of the day, you won’t be attended to as a result of a flimsy excuse and you’d come back to look at their old faces.

Last year, I culled the Republic’s first quote of the week by Zora Neale Hurston which reads “there are years that ask questions and years that answer”. I want to say that it’s going to be both for me but knowing that my journey to a bigger life just began there are going to be lots of questions. I may not get answers to many and that’s okay.

2023 goals for Everyday Life & Living

1. Be consistent in publishing.

2. Create and publish monthly newsletter.

4. Read more books— review 12 books

5. Take courses on blogging and writing as well as related courses.

6. Acquire gadgets that will make blogging convenient.

7. Space for photography— food and other lifestyle aspect.

8. Self-host Everyday Life & Living.

However, setting goals doesn’t necessarily mean that once they are smashed, the setter will fold his or her arms and relax. No. You’d do more and everything in between. Maybe it’s safe to say that to him who dreams big, much is expected. Especially work.

New year resolutions feels like an energy draining vicious cycle because it puts you in a place where you feel like being pushed to drop or pick something. But goals comes with intentionality. With purpose. With fulfilment. And still fulfilment if uncertainty pushed our goals otherwise but a spirit to go again. On that note, I urge you to not just create a mental note but pick a pen and notepad and make a list of realistic and attainable goals of how you’d want to navigate through 2023. Don’t sleepwalk through it.

The previous year was a tough one. The goals were goal-ing at least the consistency was there but the others weren’t scratched due to some limitations. Just like Nigeria’s electoral body in the just concluded election, we also had technical glitches or rather challenge. But I hope to be better this year.

By the end of this year, I want to look back, pat myself on the back for a job well done not necessarily that I outdid someone whom I’m supposedly in competition with. My mantra this year is consistency regardless of how little or substantial the result is. And I urge you to do the same.

Happy New Year from ELL!

‘I want a 100% virgin donor bone straight hair for Christmas.’

‘I want a Double Drawn hair…’

‘I want a water curl…’ bla bla bla

The list goes on and on as girls makes discussion and preparation for a detty December and some would go any length even doing dirty to hair of their preferred length.

Maybe, deep down, I want one or two as well. Just maybe. INFLUENCE and subsequent politics OF CULTURE!

In recent years, “natural hair” has made a resounding comeback to the fashion world. It’s no longer a thing worn by the highly conservative Christians from Deeper Life, Chosen, the EFAC of the Anglican, Scripture Union and other denominations as well as non-denominational organisations to show a high degree of modesty and natural-ness. A random street girl now wears her hair in full fro depending on the hair type and desired style.

Are there natural and unnatural hair strands that grows from root?

To blacks, their natural hair is their afro while the afro that relaxer has been used on and other hair extension are unnatural. Well, grooming one’s hair naturally without any chemical or chemically based additives is natural or virgin hair. Doing the otherwise isn’t called unnatural at least generally but it’s called chemically relaxed hair. In other words, the former is still unf**ked while the latter is f**ked. Are both hair healthy? Again, well… it depends on care. However, all hair grows naturally from strands.

Natural hair otherwise known as virgin hair over the decade has taken a large space in fashion. Good thing is, it looks so good in pictures when taken care of especially with a little or full glam. The sad or rather unfortunate thing is, most “non-virgin” women with the virgin hair isn’t completely proud of it. They’ve succeeded in subduing a culture by covering a culture. The culture of the straightened coloured “non-virgin”.

What influenced the comeback?

Based on interaction with a number of women who are naturals, this transition stems from two major things: like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Genevieve Nnaji, Beverly Naya, Chioma Chukwuka and a host of other influential women at the top funnel of their niches; then the Instagram influencers. A lot of people caught the “virgin hair flu” because the Instagram influencers has the spray bottles and they caught it. Some of the influenced joined the movement or rather fashion trend with the intention to have hair like a black in faraway America or Jamaica. However, there are other reasons which are very few in numbers.

“Black is beautiful — which is to say… that black hair must be guarded against the torture of processing or lye…”, when Coates said this in his book entitled Between the World and Me, he posits that a black girl who woman’s hair

Regardless of the comeback, some female still falling head over heels over the straightened hair extension sold at very outrageous prices. And anyone who doesn’t have one or two in her closet is tagged condescendingly, an mgbeke, a local girl. A very backward person. On the other hand, people should be left to choose without any form of cultural or societal pressure how they want to keep their hair. They should be allowed to by live.

It’s been one year. One rollercoaster of a year. By this time a year ago, I birthed a baby— Everyday Life & Living, a “fun blog”.

At the beginning of this year. I had goals. Simple and feasible goals. Just like the non-commonness of the common sense, simple things aren’t really simple.

There’s crying. There’s weeping. Then there’s marinated weeping. 2022 made experience the latter. My baby(blog) had her share of it because I couldn’t function properly. I’m battling to have my sanity guided and guarded.

‘In my next life I would come as a bird. I want to be free’, I said when I painfully telling tales of struggles and suffering humans have to go through just to become responsible and proactive.

Now I wish to come as a poem.

I want to be rich. So rich, not in money. In words. And depth. And just everything.

A beautiful thing that is multidimensional.

I’ve tried to write but I couldn’t.

I’ve tried listening to music but it’s… I don’t know

I’ve cried but it didn’t work.

I read Lord Byron’s quotes and poems, I found strength.

Last night it was tougher and closer. Close to squeezing the last breathe in me. I reached out to The Thing Around Your Neck and specially picked The Thing Around Your Neck, for really, there is a thing around my neck.

I read the part and wished to find strength. To yank off this thing around my neck. The first time Akụnna felt relieved, she found Chang.

Cheers to a year 🥂

I hope to find strength to do more the coming days, weeks, months and years.