A NIGHT OF INSPIRATION

 

I was thinking this morning.... On Friday night, we were all gathered at the Eko Hotel Convention Centre for the 2025 NLNG Grand Award Night, where the winners of the Nigeria Prize for Science and Nigeria Prize for Literature were to be unveiled. This year's event was themed 'Inspire' from the NLNG tagline 'Inspiring a sustainable future.' It was truly a night of inspiration.

As I walked into the passageway to the Convention Centre, I was immediately wowed by the tropical forest themed decors. The passageway was completely transformed. The lush green designs adorned with fresh plants, green carpet, sculptures of birds and hippo and the enclosure infused with sounds of animals in a forest, gave an immersive 4D experience akin to being in the thick of the rainforest and could inspire you to wish you lived in the forest as a Park ranger or as a minimum, you will inspired to embrace nature afresh.

It was truly a night of glitz and glam as everyone showed up dressed in white. The white pure, no be small. The belief by some women that 'men go stain your white' was debunked as the white of all the women in the room were spotless. White suit, white kaftan, and white traditional outfits, all blended with the neon lights in a way that will inspire you to want to be an angel. At least, if to be angel, no hungry you, at least you for hungry to be a member of Celestial church. Las las we all were more like angels with swagger.

The highlight of the night was the announcement of the book Sanya by Oyin Olugbile as the winner of the 2025 edition of The Nigeria Prize for Literature, clinching one of Africa’s most prestigious literary honour valued at $100,000. Omo! The amount did not hit home until I converted it to naira. Then it sunk. She has just won a whooping N150 million in one night. At this point, I was inspired to be a writer. At least if I can not write novels, I can write sermons. After all, na village wey native doctor know, e dey disappear.

I left the venue that night fully inspired and believing I was a superman. Philippians 4:13 "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Don't settle for less. Be inspired.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

THE STREETS THAT RAISED ME: OLD WARRI REVISITED

 

I was thinking this morning..... Yesterday, I was in Warri for a wedding and decided to visit the neighbourhood I grew up. Beginning from Mission road, I walked past First Baptist Church, where I first experienced what it meant to serve God. I recalled how, as Royal Ambassadors, we did our parade in the open field between the old and new church buildings. It was a nostalgic feeling.

On Okere Road, I took a detour through Nelson Williams Street. Coming out at Ogboru Street, I connected Father Healy Street and stopped over at 6 Ogboru Street where I was born. Standing in front of the compound, I reminisced on how we played in the open spaces of 6 Ogboru and 15a and 15b Father Healy streets. It was pure joy.

I continued my tour, entering Okandeji Street, where most of the buildings, though still standing after 50 years, are now a shadow of themselves. There is a complete absence of urban renewal effort in the neighbourhood, making it look like the relic of a ghetto. I shuddered as I saw waste water and sewage in open drains flow across streets and compounds. Yet, with the danger lurking around, I observed a number of kids, full of life, running around with unbridled joy, confirming the saying that "Rat wey die on top bag of rice no be hunger kill am, na over excitement."

Next, I branched into Ometan Street and walked towards Bazunu Road. When I got to Chief Edewor's compound, I was held captive. The building has been excellently maintained and looked exactly like I knew it over 45 years ago. The statue of the man carrying a bunch of palm fruit (banga) on his head still stands strong on the first floor verandah of the white storey building. It reminded me of the years I walked through that road to the Igbudu market.

On my return, I passed through Ginuwa Road connecting Omatsola Crescent. Walking through Torufa Primary school reminded me of my primary school days when we used to eat jolojolo. I connected back to Okere Road, joined Robert Road, and ended at my beloved Mowoe Primary school. All the joy I felt quickly disappeared when I saw that Mowoe Primary School is now an abandoned grassland.

With tears in my eyes, I recalled the sweet and sour memories I have of my days at Mowoe. I recalled how 'catching abaka' (grasshoppers) behind my class gave me a deep cut that left a large scar on my left foot till today. If there is a lesson from my tour, it is the reinforcement of the pidgin English proverb that says, "Table no dey turn, na who get sense dey change chair." I am grateful for the streets that raised me, but despite changing chairs, I pray those streets remain fertile (Psalms 85:12).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

39 GREEN BOTTLES

I was thinking this morning..... Last week, a close friend turned 20 for the third time and decided to celebrate with friends and some of his secondary school mates. While we gisted, he revealed the motivation behind his celebration. He said, "Last year, my year group in college had gathered for a re-union after about 39 years of leaving college. When we came together, we decided to do a roll call to know where everyone was. By the time we were done, we discovered 39 of our mates had passed on."

While 39 dead in 39 years was an interesting coincidence, the number got me thinking. In the early and mid-1980s, when they were in college, it was common for secondary schools in Southern Nigeria to have an average of 30-40 students per class. That means if all 39 of their departed mates were in the same class and they were having a re-union yearly, by this year, there would've been no one left from that class. In 39 years, a full class of students had passed on. Wow!

As I mused, I recalled the kiddies song we sang while growing up. "Ten green bottles hanging on the wall. Ten green bottles hanging on the wall. And if one green bottle should accidentally fall down. There'll be nine green bottles hanging on the wall." And so it goes until it gets to zero bottle. As my friends continued talking, I couldn't help but hear the variant of that song in my head. "39 bright students sitting in a class" (2×). If one bright student should unfortunately pass on. 38 bright students sitting in a class (2x)." And the countdown continued.

Life is a precious gift that often feels endless when we are young, but time quickly reminds us that it is fleeting. Every year we are alive is a chance to commit to living with purpose. When classmates gather, whether after five, ten, or even thirty-nine years, it should be more than nostalgia—it should be gratitude for the gift of still being among the living. Because na footballer wey ball dey im leg camera dey follow.

Many shy away from college re-unions because they feel their success will be guaged. Instead of measuring success by wealth or titles, we must measure it by the joy of being present, of laughing together, of creating new memories. To still be alive, breathing, and connecting is worth more than gold (Psalms 19:10).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

PROBLEM, WHERE ARE YOU?

 

I was thinking this morning..... Early last week, I had a late morning flight to catch and decided to get to the airport two hours earlier so I could settle in and join a meeting scheduled for an hour before the flight. I got a quiet room in the VIP lounge and went about my business. While there, my mind was heavy with pressing needs and delayed expectations.

A short while later, a group of passengers came into the lounge. Amongst them was a couple with two young children. From the smiles on the faces of most of the people, it felt like I was the only person with problems. Just then, the little boy started screaming on top of his lungs. His dad attempted to calm him down, but no luck. Another lady in the group joined in, even as the little boy became violent. It was obvious he was in the autistic spectrum. Omo. After just a few minutes, I got a glimpse of what this young couple goes through daily. I literally sat back, looked around me, and asked, "Where is my problem?" My problem had disappeared in the face of the bigger problems of the couple.

In my humility, or should I say 'humbility', I recalled how I was worrying about raising money for a need weeks ago. While I worried, we received heart-wrenching news of how a friend had lost his 20-year-old son in an unfortunate incident. I thought I had problems, but when that sad news hit, I sighed and asked, "Where is my problem?"

If you are stressing about your children not winning awards at school or not having money or a job, just visit a few parents with autistic children, or parents managing a child with sickle cell anaemia, you will not only salute the grace of God upon their lives but also leave there looking for what you thought were your problems and asking yourself 'Problem, where are you?'.

Sometimes, we are so myopic, thinking the world is against us, ignorant of the serious pain others are in. We think we are the only ones having problems. Everyone is going through life with one challenge or another. Don't carry yours like a badge of honour. Be grateful for life and for your children (1 Thes 5:18). I pray for more grace upon parents of kids with special needs and that soon they shall look around and ask, 'Problem, where are you?'.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

CELEBRATE JOLLOF

 

I was thinking this morning..... Last Friday Celebrity chef and Guinness World Record holder, Hilda Baci, officially began her attempt to cook the world’s largest pot of Nigerian jollof rice (200 bags) at the Eko Hotel and Suites, Lagos. Baci, who in 2023 set the record for the longest cooking marathon, hosted the “Gino Jollof Festival” in partnership with seasoning and culinary brand, Gino. According to Gino, the event was to entertain and give Nigerians an immersive experience designed to celebrate Jollof rice as a symbol of identity, resilience, and community.

That afternoon, as I stood on the queue waiting to be served lunch, I scanned the variety of dishes on display. From national to continental, nothing was appealing to me. 'What should I eat?' I wondered, as my eyes moved from one chafing dish to another. When I couldn't make up my mind, I decided to play safe and asked for jollof rice because I learnt years ago that you can't go wrong with jollof. As I sat down to eat, the Hilda Baci’s event was being featured on the large TV screen in front of me.

As I quietly ate my jollof rice, watching the World Jollof Festival, the words of the organisers that Jollof rice is a symbol of resilience, continued to play in my head, pulling me into deep introspection. While a number of persons were there to support Hilda Baci, others were there for the entertainment. Yet thousands of others were there for the free food. Whatever the motivation was, it takes resilience to stay awake all night just to eat jollof rice. Celebrate Jollof.

I doubt if there is any group of people in the world as resilient as Nigerians. Fela called it 'suffering and smiling', but oyibo man calls it resilience. You only need to consider what people go through daily to survive in this country. What about what some couples go through in marriage? Nothing defines resilience more than 'we die here' attitude of Nigerians. If jollof rice is truly a symbol of resilience, then we must celebrate Jollof.

As you go worship God today, be encouraged by 1st Cor 15:58 that says, "Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord." And if you can, settle with a bowl of jollof for lunch and simply celebrate Jollof.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

WHAT'S YOUR MESSAGE?

 

I was thinking this morning..... A few days ago, I attended a media training at Lagos Continental Hotel. It was a dynamic and highly practical workshop on how to effectively engage external stakeholders, especially the media. My initial response upon being invited for the training was 'Na today?.' My thinking was that since I have been blogging since 2015, I can say I am pretty much okay with engaging the media.

Just a few minutes into the practical session where I sat in front of the camera and was interviewed by a senior correspondent from one of the major TV stations, my eye clear. Suddenly, the chair was uncomfortable, I stuttered as I spoke and could no longer articulate my thoughts. I quickly realised that no be the eye wey dem dey take chop eba dem take dey share meat.

The facilitator spoke about having a clear message and applying the bridging technique. As she did, I remembered Uche, a trader at Ibo market in Warri, who had recently concluded the burial rites of his mother. A journalist covering the commissioning of the newly constructed road in front of his house had met him to ask for his opinion. "How will this new road help the residents of this street?" He asked on live television. With little hesitation, Uche said, "Oh very helpful indeed. And I want to use this opportunity to thank all those who came for my mother's burial and all my customers who have been patronising me these many years. I thank all of them."

Sharp guy, you would say. Uche may not have had media training, but he had a clear message and knew how to use the bridging technique. With social media everyone has become a content creator, throwing out obscenities and spewing rubbish to the world daily. Lots of talk, but zero message. Before you post your next message or video, ask yourself what the message is because after you click the send button, "otilo." Like we say in Warri, water wey dem take make eba no fit return.

Na wetin you dey yarn? Colossians 4:6 says, 'Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

THE WEY OF YESTERDAY

 

I was thinking this morning.... When I saw the photo of me below, I gushed. As I stared at the photo, thrilling memories of yesteryears rushed through my mind, with every gaze taking me back to Warri.

My first reaction was all smiles as I agreed that of a truth, I was an FBNP-SLDD. How can I not reach that conclusion? After all, 'mouth wey chop pepperfruit no dey hide.' The smiles, the gaze, the mustache, and the 'baffs' all defined class. By the way, FBNP-SLDD means 'Fine Boy No Pimples - Simple Looking Double Dimple.' Okay. You can argue that the dimple is imaginary but can not argue that this Warri boy knew early in life that 'na as goat stand for market dem dey take price am.'

Just then, my gaze shifted to the cap (fila). It was very fitting and adjusted to show that power was shifting to the west. As I scanned the design, I sighed and concluded that long before the infinity symbol was made popular by Emilokan, we had rocked our fila with the 'fast forward' symbol. While I can't remember where we were fast-forwarding to, one thing I knew was that my destiny was in God's hands because 'Person wey hold snuff for palm no dey look time.'

Next, the neck chain caught my attention. I couldn't even remember that I rocked neck chain at a point in life. I zoomed in to look closely at the gold necklace and cross locket. I have no memory of how I was able to afford the gold chain and locket at the time. Was it a long period of saving of pocket money or weeks of begging and cajoling my parents for it? Whatever the modus operandi was, what I know was that 'hand wey stay long for pocket, know say nothing de that pocket.'

The crease on the brocade showed clearly it was starched. I won't even be surprised if my shoe was also starched because in those days starching your clothes was the in-thing. I rocked starched clothes until I was beaten by rain, one faithful day. Despite my becoming a gum-man, I continued my starching adventure because I had learnt that 'person wey don faint before no be stranger to death.'

All in all, the photo reminded me about how our wants change with seasons. Your ways of yesterday will be different from your ways tomorrow. Stealing or borrowing to show off is a mental illness. Please don't, because tomorrow you won't even remember what the hell you wore to that event. Be content and happy about you and about life. If you must borrow, borrow sense from Matthew 6:30.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey