ESUSU MANAGEMENT SYSTEM (EMS)

 

I was thinking this morning..... I grew up hearing my mum say 'When I pack esusu next month, we will do this or that.' For the non-initiates, Esusu is an Ibo word that refers a fund to which a group of individuals make fixed contributions of money at fixed intervals and the total amount contributed by the entire group is assigned to each of the members in rotation. These savings schemes also called Ajo in yoruba and Adashe in the north has the unique benefit of providing bulk money to each of the contributors.

I heard recently of how some blue-collar workers in some organisations where free lunch is provided, have devised a smart way of reducing the cost of providing food for their families using the Esusu Management System (EMS). A number of colleagues agree to contribute their meat (viz chicken, beef, fish, cowleg or kpomo) each lunch and one person takes it all home. The next day will be the turn of another until it goes round. The pot of meat collected by each person is taken home to prepare a pot of soup for the family. Wow! Apart from the challenge of food hygiene, I find the idea quite creative.

The Esusu Management System is most beneficial where there is shortage of resources. No doubt there is shortage of love and goodness in our world today. For a father to beat and broke the arm of his 2 month old baby because he was being disturbed tells us that all is not well with him. We are too consumed by the rat race of succeeding that we fail to see that our brother, friend or colleague is drowning in pain. Love, like dollar, seems scarce in our nation today.

It's time to deploy the Esusu Management System. This time, not for money or meat but for love and goodness. We belong to several social media groups that focus on chatting more than showing genuine love. If we aggregate a little love and goodness in each of us and shower it on one member each week or month, I believe it will go a long way in lifting people out of the mental health challenges they are faced with today. Luke 6:31: Do to others as you would have them do to you.

We have seen money Esusu and kpomo Esusu, it's time for Love Esusu. As we do esusu with our love and goodness, I believe the world will be a better place.

Stay hopeful. God's got your back.

Happy Sunday.

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

VACANCY: LIVING HOUSEHELP NEEDED

 

I was thinking this morning..... as I went out for a cross-neighbourhood morning fitness walk yesterday, I came across this advert board that reads 'Female House Help, Living, 18 - 25' somewhere along Peter Odilli Road in Port-Harcourt. I smiled as I assumed the advertiser meant he was looking for a 'Live-in Female Househelp', but then I thought again 'Wait a minute. What if it wasn't an error? What if the 'Living' was intentional?'

As I walked along, I recalled reading stories and watching videos of househelps that abuse the children they were employed to care for, with some going as far as starving or poisoning them. Someone that is alive and has blood flowing in her veins cannot be that savage na, haba!!! One must be dead to be that wicked. No wonder the advertiser was looking for a 'Living Female Househelp.' As far as the advertiser was concerned, the main qualification to get the job is that the young lady should be alive.

The wisdom of that advertiser need to be borrowed by corporate organisations and our Civil Service Commission for use as a recruitment criteria. Many workers are just not alive to their responsibility. You cannot be alive and are okay with spending the whole day in the office doing private business or gossiping and still feel okay to collect a salary at the end of the month. Like that advertiser, employers should be writing 'Vacancy: Living Accountant required' or 'Vacancy: Living Clerk required.'

In the same vein, we need living Nigerians as our chief servants come 2023. A leader that is not moved by the infirmity of the people he was elected to serve cannot be alive. A leader that is cocooned in opulence while the masses starve is not living. Like that advertiser at Peter Odilli Road, I beg you, come 2023, we need Living Senators, Governors and President, so that we all can be alive in Nigeria.

The suffering and deep poverty Nigerians have been through have already made many dead to humanity. Please do not allow the problems of life overwhelm you to the point of becoming a living dead. If you must be dead, please be dead to sin and corruption. Romans 6:11 says 'Count yourself dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus.'

Stay hopeful. God's got your back.

Happy Sunday.

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

TOUCHING THE STARS

 

I was thinking this morning….. It was a night of honour and glamour at the 2022 Grand Award Night for The Nigeria Prize for Science and Literature tagged ‘Touching the Stars.’ From the red, sorry blue carpet, to the music, it was a night to be much remembered.

As my young wife and I sauntered into the expansive hall of Eko Hotel and Towers, I was initially intimidated by the sheer glitz of the beautifully decorated hall. The multi-coloured stage lightings, three large LED screens, chairs and tables well draped in glittering black and silver and a crew of cameramen from NTA, Channels, Arise News and others tripping over themselves left no one in doubt that the organisers were aiming to touch the stars.

I remained humbled and subdued by the dignitaries in attendance. From his excellency, President Olusegun Obasanjo to His Imperial Majesty, the Amayanabo of Bonny to the Hon. Minister of Science and Technology, Senator Adeleke Mamora, the hall was graced with notable personalities. I however found my mojo in the midst of familiar faces at Table 45. Now relaxed as I took a sip from a glass of cold apple juice, I had no doubt I was going to be inspired to think of touching the stars.

In minutes, the hall was full and everyone seated. The crowd was truly Nigerian devoid of tribal and religious sentiments evident by the babarigas, etibo, wokor, senator and agbada that dotted the hall. As I pondered on the perfect blend of the Nigerian culture and spirit, I imagined a Nigeria united in creed and colour. Truly we would’ve been touching the stars.

Then came the awards recognizing those that have excelled in science and literature. Again the short list was pan-Nigerian with emphasis on nothing but competence and excellence. The panel of judges did not care about the state of origin and religion of the contestants. What they looked for was the best of the best. As the winners were announced and we stood up to applaud them, I mourned for our country Nigeria.

When the night was ended and the morning broke, the winner of $100,000 prize for Literature had announced that he will be giving $10,000 each to the other two contestants. Wow! What a spirit of brotherhood. These young men have again taught us, particularly our politicians, that service by sharing rather than self aggradizement is the surest way to touching the stars.

We are on the march to selecting the chief stewards for our dear nation, Nigeria. Oh I wish we could base our selection on competence, there is nothing that will stop us from touching the stars. Daniel 12:3 says 'Those who are wise will shine like the stars for ever.' Please be wise, so we could touch the stars together.

Stay hopeful. God's got your back.

Happy Sunday.

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

Don't Switch Off Your Light

 

I was thinking this morning.... It was Friday evening as I walked into my room after work. I turned on the light switch but noticed the light didn't come on. I turned the switch off and on again, but still no luck. This light bulb has burnt out so quickly, I thought, as I reached to switch on another.

As I settled in, I wondered why light bulbs don't last so long these day. I remember a light bulb we had in a mum's room while growing up that never got burnt from as long as I can remember till I became an adult and moved out. That bulb must have lasted for over 20 years. Is that a strange occurrence? Maybe not, because I recently found out that the world's longest-lasting light bulb is the Centennial Light located at 4550 East Avenue, Livermore, California. The bulb is at least 121 years old (installed 1901) and has only been turned off a handful of times.

Why do some bulbs last long and others short? The reason is astonishing. The major reason for the longevity of so many longest-lasting light bulbs is because they are so infrequently turned off. Most of the wear and tear that leads to burnouts in incandescent light bulbs is caused by turning them on and off, not by burning them. Each time the bulb is turned on and off, the filament is heated and cooled. This causes the material of the filament to expand and contract, in turn causing micro stress cracks to develop. The more the light is turned on and off, the larger these cracks grow, until eventually the filament breaks at some point, in non-spectacular fashion, thus causing the light to burn out.

Like light bulbs, we glow when we do good works. If so, why do some faint in well doing and others don't? Do you frequently switch your love for humanity on and off? Is it because you feel your good is doing no good and probably wasted? Some have been good to people but their good have come back to hurt them, so they decided not to help again.

Please don't switch off your light, it is causing you more harm than good. No act of kindness, however small is ever wasted. Be like the Centennial Light by being good all the time. Being hot and cold with your love for God and humanity will burn you out like light bulbs. No wonder Galatians 6:9 admonishes, “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday.

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

Mum, Dad, Sorry I am Late

 

I was thinking this morning..... A little girl grew up sleeping between her mum and dad right from birth because she was an only child. When she was 5 years old, her parents tried weaning her from that habit by tucking her in bed in her room at bed time. She will however get up at midnight, tiptoe into her parents room and slide in-between them. To her, 12 midnight was an appointment not to be missed.

Every night, her parents looked to the day she will grow up, be an adult and sleep in her room, but their little girl enjoyed the warmth between her parents. She does this religiously every day, week, month and year until her 10th birthday. It was 12 midnight on her 10th birthday and dad and mum was expecting their beloved daughter to slide into their bed but she didn't. They waited for another 30mins and didn't hear the creaking sound of the door announcing the arrival of their midnight visitor. At this point, they heaved a sigh of relief and concluded that their daughter has finally grown up. As they gradually drifted into dreamland at about 1am, the door opened, the girl snuck in-between them, looked at both parents and said 'Mummy, Daddy, sorry I am late.'

I remembered this story as Nigeria celebrated her 62nd Independence yesterday. The world, for 62 years expected us to grow up but, like that little girl, we still behave like a child enjoying the warmth of her parents. We squander our God given resources like the prodigal son, go aborrowing and then return to United Nations asking for debt cancellation.  What we are saying to the world at a time they thought we've grown is 'Mummy, Daddy, sorry I am late.'

Just like Nigeria, there are many Nigerians that are adults with the mindset of children. One would've expected that with what we have gone through, the major considerations for selecting the next set of leaders will be issues based. Usai! Many still play money and tribal politics synonymous with looking you in the eye and saying 'bro, sist. Sorry I am late.'

My prayer is that as we celebrate our 62nd Independence anniversary and get into 2023, we will grow up as individuals and a nation. We are not designed to be children forever but to grow and mature into adults. We have acted like children long enough, it's time to grow up (Deut 2:3).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday.

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