CHOOSE YOUR SHAME WISELY

 

I was thinking this morning..... I have always known shame to be a negative emotion, but experts say the feeling of shame is a normal part of the human experience and that it is what sets us apart from all other species. Some even believe there are three types of shame - the good, the bad and the ugly.

The ‘good’ kind of shame also called "healthy shame" is the shame that helps us to feel a sense of guilt or remorse when we’ve acted badly. With healthy shame you hear someone say "I feel bad because I made a mistake.” Bad or unhealthy shame on the other hand is when we refuse to look at ourselves but rather overreact and attack or blame someone else. You hear someone say “You’re the problem because you made a mistake.” The most harmful kind of shame, toxic shame, is the kind that leaves us feeling like we are less than worthy human beings and leads to chronic feelings of depression and low self-esteem. You hear someone say “I’m a mistake.”

I was still reflecting on this when President Trump called Nigeria a disgraced country, threatening to send troops to wipe out the terrorists killing Christians, if the government does nothing. From government to the masses, everyone that had hitherto been silent on the death across Nigeria, now had a voice. Instead of confronting the truth with humility, many Nigerians instead raged, attacking Trump. I shook my head and said "Chai! Nigerians, choose your shame wisely."

In the face of the serious national issue and talk of genocide or no genocide, social media was overtaken by the domestic problems of a billionaire and his estranged celebrity wife. Like seriously? So sad that the spouse you chose is bringing you such toxic shame.

The truth is, many in choosing their spouses and friends have made choices that brought them shame. My prayer is that the spouse and friends we choose will not bring us toxic shame. Choose your friends and spouse wisely, because by so doing you might also be choosing your shame. May God guide us in choosing our friends and spouse wisely. Isaiah 54:4 says "Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed: neither be thou confounded; for thou shalt not be put to shame."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

DEAD MEN DON'T KEEP APPOINTMENTS

I was thinking this morning.... I was at the airport waiting for my flight to Lagos days ago when my phone chimed. When I checked, I saw a message from a member of my university class, who seldom reaches out. Her first line message 'Not sure if you are already aware' caught my attention. She was still typing when I called her line, just to be informed that one of us had lost her husband in a ghastly motor accident along the Benin-Ore road. 'Our friend is terribly devastated,' she concluded.

Being the coordinator for the class alumni group, I immediately informed the class of the sad news and commenced planning for a team to visit her the next day. Four of us agreed to pay the condolence visit between 11.30 am and 12.30 pm.

I set out early the next day to be able to keep to the agreed time. Unfortunately, due to the unpredictable Lagos traffic, it wasn't until past 12 noon, that we eventually went in to see our friend. She was all tears when she saw us and told us how her beloved husband is no more with her. We mourned with her and did our best to comfort her amidst sobs.

Less than 30 minutes later, I was itching to leave because I had a 2 pm meeting I was to facilitate. As I sat beside our sobbing friend, apologising for having to leave so soon to keep an appointment, I heard a voice in my spirit saying, 'dead men don't keep appointments.' I was yet to fully take in the message when my friend said, 'Hmm! All the appointments my husband had now amounts to nothing.'

As my other friends walked me outside, I finally understood the Togolese proverb that says 'the only woman who knows where her man is every night is a widow.' The message finally sank. Dead men don't keep appointments. As we walked, one of us, who I hadn't seen since we left school 34 years ago, brought up the issue of having periodic re-unions. He had said, 'It's 34 years since we left school. We couldn't find time to come together to celebrate, but have now found time because of a tragedy.' We nodded in agreement even as I again came to the realisation that dead classmates don't do re-unions.

Stay connected. Live happy and give thanks in all circumstances. 1st Thes 5:18.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy New Month!

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

Mama! Na Boy O!

 

I was thinking this morning... It was a normal day at work as I walked with some friends towards the staff canteen. As we approached, another colleague walking out of the canteen saw me and said loudly, "Mama! Na boy o." I immediately responded, "Na boy o." He followed up saying, "The boys don become men o." The friends I was with looked at us, wondering what our coded language meant. As I walked along smiling, I recalled how it all began.

It was a cool Saturday morning on the island of Bonny. We started our day like any other day and were preparing for the day when my young wife went into labour. I immediately drove her to the hospital in the residential area where we lived. As the nurses wheeled her into the delivery room, I found out two other colleagues had also brought their wives for delivery. As the medical personnel did their thing, the three would-be fathers held their breath while waiting by the corridor.

After about 30 minutes (one of the longest in my life), the door to the delivery room opened and a nurse walked out and announced to me that my young wife had given birth to a baby boy. Overwhelmed with joy and with my co-expectant fathers congratulating me, I picked up my phone to announce the good news to my parents in Warri. As my mum picked up at the first ring, I announced with glee, "Mama! Na boy o."

My colleagues with me laughed at my chosen mode of announcement. This was because "Mama! Na boy o" was a popular 2003 MTN advert at the time. It happened that the wives of my other colleagues also gave birth to boys the same day. That day was exactly 20 years ago last Wednesday. Twenty years after, we still greet each other with "Mama! Na boy o."

"Mama! Na boy o!" is not just a playful greeting between two fathers; rather, it's a reminder of the faithfulness of God. It's a reminder that it doesn't matter how long the night is, joy comes in the morning (Psalms 30:5). It's a reminder that if you stay the course, all things will fall into place. Though the boys of yesterday have become men today, the event of October 22, 2005, will always remind me of "Mama! Na boy o."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

BREAKING 27 BONES

 

I was thinking this morning..... Last Friday, I attended the funeral mass in honour of the mother of a colleague. When I saw the crowd that came from all over the world to honour this great woman, I was pleased because I learnt long ago that the labour pain women experience during child birth is equivalent to breaking 27 bones in the human body at the same time. Yes! 27 bones. How is that possible? I couldn't argue with it because I have never and will never be delivered of a baby. How can anyone survive that threshold of pain?

But wait o, if the pain of childbirth is equivalent to breaking 27 bones, what will make a woman be willing to experience the pain of breaking 270 bones (10 children)? I was trying to imagine the pain, but then I remembered the saying that Pikin wey think say he fit use his tongue count his teeth na headache go kill am, and I gave up.

Breaking 27 bones was on my mind when I recalled an event that occurred while I was living with my aunt on campus years ago. She had driven out for shopping that day and unfortunately had an incident with another vehicle. Apparently, the man driving the other vehicle physically assaulted her. She came home that day in tears. I had never seen her cry before. While her husband raged and paced, wanting to rush to town to kill the man that dared to slap his wife, I sat quietly wondering why a sane man would raise his hand to hit a woman. A woman who had endured the pain of breaking 27 bones.

Incidences of domestic violence on women seem to be increasing, with the latest being the celebrity actor accusing her billionaire husband of beating her. Some women have even lost their lives from this. I still don't understand why some men disrespect or worse, beat their wives. Meanwhile, these same men will never do the same against their fellow men. Like we say in Warri, 'If spirit no dey fear, why dem dey waka for night?' As a man, if you are tempted to assault a woman, first step back and consider if you can endure the pain of breaking 27 bones.

I can not imagine disrespecting my young wife, who has endured the pain of breaking a total of 81 bones. 1st Peter 3:7 says, 'Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife.' I kowtow for all mothers around the world and encourage all men to honour their wives.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

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

GOATS, PERIWINKLE AND FRUITS BASKET

 

I was thinking this morning.... I was at Lagos Business School (LBS) this past week for training. The resource person, while talking to us about business models, highlighted the challenges faced by small businesses and what many poor Nigerians do to survive. He talked about some persons who now go to butchery to collect bare bones, saw them, and use them for cooking just to have the taste and flavour of cow meat in their soup.

We were still reflecting soberly and 'jejely' when one of the participants jumped in to tell us of his experience. He said he once observed a man washing the beards of a goat. He was curious and asked the man why he was doing so, and the response by the man was that he wanted to use the water to cook okro soup. That since he can't afford to buy goat meat, at least he can smell goat in the okro soup.

While the class erupted in laughter and some said it was a classic cock and bull story, the message was not lost on us. Having mentally taken us to the shanties of society's poorest and humblest, it was time for a site visit to the playground of the rich and famous, Lekki.

We got a first glimpse of money as we drove in our bus towards Lekki. As we slowed down at an intersection, we observed some area boys run to this luxury vehicle ahead of us. The person inside brought down the side glass and threw out a bunch of crisp dollar notes to area boys. Omo. See levels!

We were still discussing the contradiction as we got into Lekki. We drove through Periwinkle Empire, touted to be the destination of billionaires, and finally entered through a gate and another till we got to a waterfront piece of real estate. From that location, we were shown 5-Cowries island, Banana island, Orange Island and if you wish, throw in Coconut Island. All locations being limited pieces of real estate with plots selling from one billion naira. The cool breeze swaying the royal palm trees in different direction gave the estate a luxury steez that reminded me of Beverly Hills in California.

Chai! I imagined the difference between the man washing the beards of a goat to cook okro soup and the man eating periwinkle and fruits on an island, and recalled a wise man said that life is not a result of circumstances, but a product of decisions. Your circumstances don't make you. Your decisions make you. Proverbs 13:15.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE JOLLOF RICE PRINCIPLE

I was thinking this morning.... About 10 years ago, I was in charge of inducting all new staff and visitors at my organisation's head office. The implication was that, for years, I knew everyone around. Those years, when I walked into the staff canteen, everyone greeted me like I was Davido entering into the reception hall in Miami.

Years later, I moved higher and completely left the induction to a younger member of my team. Despite that, I can still boast of recognising over 90% of people at the location. Then came the COVID-19 lockdown years that birthed the new age of virtual working. I had not been in the staff canteen for years and decided to do so one afternoon. As I stepped into the expansive hall with at least a hundred people already having lunch, I was expecting to make my usual rockstar entrance. That day, I got the shock of my life. Every face was strange. Not one person recognised who I was. I collected my food and sat down like a prodigal son.

As I ate, I wondered what had happened. Am I in the wrong location? How is it possible that no one recognised me? Who are all these people? When did they join this organisation? There were so many questions on my mind. But then, it occurred to me that it wasn't a sudden change. The organisation had been employing new persons while others were leaving one person at a time.

It is the same principle in life and is called the Jollof rice principle, derived from the pidgin English proverb that says, "Jollof rice wey dey bottom pot today go dey on top cooler tomorrow." Everyday, someone is dying, while another is born. It's only a matter of time before every face would be new. The new or young colleague at the bottom of the food chain today could be the king of the jungle tomorrow. Life changes, one person at a time.

If, therefore, life is changing, one person at a time, why are we not humble? The organisation wherein you are acting like a demigod today, come back after 10 years, you will be a stranger. A celebrity today would be unknown tomorrow. The 'Pharoah that knew Joseph' will not be on the throne forever. You know why? Life regenerates. Life changes, one person at a time. Jollof rice wey dey bottom pot today go dey on top cooler tomorrow. The one wey dey on top cooler today na im go first end up for toilet. Psalms 75:7 comes to mind. Join me to pray to stay humble.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

KOKORO NO KAZE

 

I was thinking this morning.... Days ago, I walked into the staff canteen with a colleague. As we stood on the short queue waiting to be served, my colleague said, "Have you observed how almost everyone in this canteen is wearing a jacket? Is it that the AC has been adjusted to be extremely cold, or the recent heavy rains made it seem so?" I looked around and truly saw so many people wearing fleece and other jackets that made some look like Eskimos in the North Pole.

As I watched these colleagues walk back to their seats, tray in hand with all sorts of orishirishi, to provide food for their bodies, I got thinking. We give so much attention to providing food and avoiding cold for our bodies but do very little to prevent a cold of the soul. In Japan, a cold of the soul is described as "kokoro no kaze." While Kokoro no kaze generally refers to mild depression, I prefer the literal meaning - cold of the soul.

Too many people around the world are suffering from colds of the soul (Kokoro no kaze). Imagine the other day, I walked into a supermarket to pick a few things. Just a few items that couldn't fill a disposal plastic bag and the cashier said N32k. I looked at the queue behind me and looked at the young lady. With a confused look, I asked the young lady if she added the bill of others on the queue. She laughed and confimed it was only my bill. 'Jesu!' was the only word that came out of my mouth.

As I walked out of the supermarket, I wondered how people survive in Nigeria. Yet, we see less than 1% of the population loot our common wealth and recklessly flaunt it, while millions die from hunger. They don't even pretend that they care, and I wonder why. Now I know that they are suffering from Kokoro no kaze - cold of the soul. When parents sell their babies to survive and children use parents for money rituals, the root cause is Kokoro no kaze - cold of the soul.

It is foolish to pay attention to the food for the body and less to the food for the soul. Yes. It's okay to quickly react to external cold by covering up, but we must be urgent to stop the cold of the soul (Kokoro no kaze). It is better to have a warm soul and a cold body than a warm body and a cold soul. Do all within your power to avoid Kokoro no kaze (cold of the soul) because it is the kokoro (worm/insect) eating your life away. Matthew 24:12 says, "And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

HOW WE AVOIDED A PLANE CRASH

 

I was thinking this morning.... it was a bright, sunny day as our aircraft commenced its descent into the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja. The pilot had announced that we would be landing soon and the seatbelt signs turned on. I adjusted myself and my seatbelt in preparation for landing.

As I opened the window blind to my left, I looked out the window to scan and enjoy the view of the suburbs of the Federal Capital City. As I did, I observed a black feature, just above the rocky mountains close to the Abuja airport. I initially thought it was a bird because of its size. But as we descended a lot more, this object got bigger and clearer. Yes, it was an aircraft also flying towards the Abuja airport.

I kept staring at this aircraft as we continued to descend. I got a bit curious observing that this aircraft was flying at the same speed and a fixed angle from our aircraft. I was certain that both aircrafts could not have been cleared to land at the same time on the single runway.

I kept observing, keen on seeing which of the aircrafts will land first. One kilometre from touchdown, this aircraft was still approaching, but this time getting closer to us. What does this pilot think he is doing? I hope he is sane? I wondered about the pilot of the black aircraft. Well, even if he is mad, I was sure the pilot of our aircraft was sane. Our pilot is not blind and must have seen this rogue aircraft.

500m, 200m, 100m to touchdown, and this rogue aircraft was getting precariously close to us. Why is everyone calm? Am I the only one seeing this aircraft? 50m, 30m, 10m. Oh my God! It's going to crash into our aircraft. Just when I was about to scream Jesus!!! I looked again as this rogue aircraft merged with ours at touchdown. Oops! It was our shadow, a reflecting of our aircraft, all along. Phew!!! I sunk into my chair in relief.

There are so many people who are afraid of their shadows. They always feel someone is coming for them, not realising it was their shadow. While for some, the unseen shadow truly portends demonic oppression, for others, that ominous shadow is their ignorance. Light is the solution to shadows. Position yourself rightly before the Son and all shadows shall disappear (John 8:12).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy New Month!

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

I SHALL NOT DIE

 

I was thinking this morning..... The past few days have made me sober, triggering deep introspection about life and death. I was on a flight with a colleague who had received the shocking news of the passing of her brother-in-law a few hours earlier. This man's job had been so demanding and stressful in recent years that he had agreed with the wife that he was going to resign for the sake of his health. However, he kept going and going until last week when he could take it no more and threw in the towel. He had resigned in the morning, and by midnight, he suffered a heart attack and died a couple of hours later.

Wow! How do you explain that? Did he resign too late? If he hadn't resigned, could he have died in active service? I imagined how so many people are experiencing similar extreme work pressure but somehow can't break away. As I considered why, I can only recall the Warri proverb that says, 'E go beta, e go beta, na e make camel still dey carry load.'

I remember a colleague years ago who was a workaholic. He worked so hard and hardly created time for vacation or recreation. He was saving up seriously for his retirement when he would finally relax and enjoy the fruits of a labour. Unfortunately, the stress took a toll on him, and he collapsed and died. The retirement he worked day and night for was never to be. As colleagues gathered for his burial, one lesson was clear to all, 'Who naked no dey chuke hand for pocket!'

I was still pondering on the fate of those they left behind when I saw a writeup on the burial of President Muhammadu Buhari. The author had clearly pointed out that despite the status of PMB, his burial was simple, with no night of tributes, no wake keep, no in-laws visit, no expensive coffin, no 5 musicians playing concurrently, no hired pall bearers nor spraying of naira or dollars. Everything that makes people say 'the burial carry weight' was absent. How did we come to this point of stressing ourselves to death and still stress the living because of what people would say? I concluded with the saying, 'This burial rich, this burial rich, no make to die hungry elders.'

Don't live or pattern your life to impress anyone or conform with unhealthy tradition. Think deeply about what is driving your actions. Otherwise, like they say, 'head wey no wan think, go carry load.' Psalms 118:17 says 'I shall not die, but live.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

Hello! Can You Hear Me?

 

I was thinking this morning.... The wedding of the daughter of our Hussey College classmate in Toronto happened at a time when the trade war between the USA and Canada was raging. This triggered a soft war between our classmates from the USA and Canada, with the Canadians jokingly threatening to slam additional tariffs on the USA group on arrival. The USA group threatened that their visit to Toronto was to finalise the annexation of Canada as the 51st State of the USA.

Unfortunately, the day of arrival of the USA team in Canada was when the hotel everyone was lodged, decided to carry out maintenance. Power was shut off, and water ran out. The USA folks went into overdrive, telling everyone exactly how Canada is like a county and needed to be annexed by the USA.

We were yet to hear the last of their complaints on our way to Niagara Falls when we saw this phone booth standing by the side of the gas station we stopped to top our tanks. That again triggered another round of gbas-gbos between the USA and the Canadian teams, with the USA team insisting that Canada is old-school for having phone booths in the era of advanced mobile phones. As they banter, I walked over to the booth, just to confirm if it was functional. As I picked up the handset to my ear and heard the ring tone, like in the movie, Matrix, I was teleported to a realm of musing.

How ironic that we came from an era with little or no mobile phones, but yet communication was great, to today with mobile phones everywhere and we are not communicating. In 1980, there were approximately 400 million telephone lines compared to today, with over 7.4 billion smartphones globally. Today, talk is cheap, but communication is poor. Everyone has a phone, but only a few are communicating. Parents and children are all sitting in the living room, each holding a mobile phone, not for communication, but lost in their respective virtual world.

Mobile phones were meant to improve communication, but it has made it worse. Talking does not mean communication because we can communicate in silence. Beyond communicating, we must seek to understand one another to make the world a better place. No wonder 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." 

Hello! Can you hear me?

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE BOY WITH OVERSIZED SHORT

 

I was thinking this morning..... Still on the wedding of the daughter of my Hussey College classmate in Ontario, Canada, 39 years after we left school. My young wife and I got to the venue of the trad early, just to ensure we were part of all the action. One by one, guests walked into the living room, colourfully dressed in traditional Niger Delta outfit. While I recognised just a few of my classmates, almost every one of them recognised me. I'm not sure why, though.

While musing, Usifo walked over to where I was with another of our classmates. I didn't at all pick his face from the past, even though the name rang a bell. I was still digging into the deep recesses of my memory when Usifo said, "Weyimi, I remember you quite well. You were very small while we were in school and always wore oversized shorts." He concluded by gesturing to the shorts being below my knees.

After laughing off the joke, his words played back in my head. Not the fact that I was smallish but the memory that I wore oversized shorts. I recalled that the oversized short was not a fashion statement but rather an economic strategy by my parents. My short was oversized either because I was to wear it for several years or because it was passed down from my elder brother.

As I thought about Usifo's remarks, I was initially disappointed in myself. Usifo did not remember me for something positively grand, like being the best student in class or an outstanding prefect. He remembered me for my oversized shorts. Chai! He didn't even remember me for being a fine boy or well-behaved student, but of everything about a student, he remembered my oversized shorts. Usifo, why? Lol.

But then, I thought again. While in Hussey College, there were many students that Principal Ojo gave his signature slap for truancy. I am thankful that Usifo did not remember me as one of the receivers. He also didn't remember me as the boy that stole or for any other vice. He remembered me for my oversized shorts.

Thanks to Usifo, I got a renewed sense that it is better to be remembered for a bad outfit than for a bad character. What you wear is external and will not define your personality, but what you do to others will define who you are, and that's what you will be remembered for. Be intentional about having a good name rather than a great fashion sense or riches (Proverbs 22:1).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

TABLE 19

 

I was thinking this morning...... Two days after the traditional wedding of the daughter of our Hussey College classmate was the white wedding, and every one of us had dressed up in our aso-ebi. Again, a Niger Delta attire. As we arrived at the venue, I had planned to go sit with my close friends in the Hussey College Class of 86, but the organisers had a different plan. We were directed to go check our table on the display board at the entrance. My young wife and I had been assigned to Table 19.

I wasn't sure who was assigned to my table and was bracing up for a boring four hours. On getting to Table 19, double chief Lucky Memene, his wife and daughter, the lovely Clara Uyi Reinicke, the irrepressible Maureen Iyere, the amiable Favour Orere and Tony Dale were already seated. These were familiar faces but not my regular pals while we were in school. With a chair short, Tony Dale happily volunteered to give up his seat so my young wife and I could have a seat at Table 19. He left for another table. Lucky Braimoh, who was originally assigned to Table 19, came in later on but joined another table because there was no more seat at Table 19.

As we drove back home after the event, I imagined how the journey of life can be akin to Table 19. Just like I came to the event not choosing where and who to sit with, no one selected their parents when they were born and, to a large extent, not even their friends. Life brought us all together at Table 19.

Like Tony and Lucky, who eventually left Table 19 to another table, we sometimes separate from those we started life with and sojourn with new friends. We must, however, maintain a good relationship with them. Interactions on Table 19 started slowly but picked up tempo when we embraced our individuality and enjoyed the company of each other. Our conversations connected, and we left as closer friends on Table 19.

Life has placed every one of us at our respective Table 19, seating you with family, classmates, colleagues, and others. What you make out of Table 19 depends on you. Embrace those life has paired you with and be kind to them. If you must leave to join another group like Tony, do so happily and without acrimony. Like the Rotarians would say, "Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver, and the other is gold." Romans 12:18 is also instructive.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

WE ARE BUT CHILDREN

 

I was thinking this morning.... This past weekend, the daughter of my secondary school classmate got married in Toronto, Canada. With adequate notice, over 20 classmates travelled from Nigeria, Europe, and North America to honour our friend and classmate. It was a re-union of some sort and the first time of reconnecting with some classmates after 39 years.

While the day was meant to be for the daughter of our friend, it turned out to be a mamas' and papas' fun day. With every of our classmate that walked into the venue of the traditional wedding, there was a shout from someone hailing a friend he hadn't seen in years. We laughed, hugged, and threw banters at each other.

As we made these loud noises, my daughter sat close by watching our every action. I am sure she was wondering what the heck was wrong with these old folks. As the 'yabbies' continued, I wondered how and why we weren't behaving like parents and grandparents that we are. I looked around me and realised that amongst our childhood friends, we were all but children.

When the paying of the bride price was over, we gathered to dance with the couple at a small reception behind the house. The noisy Hussey College group was there to sing the school anthem, and then something unexpected happened. The Mother of the Bride (MOB) stood up to sing a song and boom. What followed was the most bizarre song a truant college student could ever sing. One that would immediately attract punishment from the school principal. Everyone was left in stitches from the laughter. The bride sat there, probably wondering why her mum and her friends were acting like children. She had no idea that amongst your childhood friends, you are but a child.

The next day, we all packed ourselves like kids going for excursion and headed for a fun day at Niagara Falls. Without the thoughts of school fees or family and work challenges, we experienced the freedom of kids. But wait a minute, amongst your childhood friends, aren't we all kids?

There are few occasions where an adult is truly childlike. One of such is when you are with your childhood friends or classmates. Take a break from being a father, mother, pastor, boss, oga and madam, and just be a child for a day. It would do you a lot of good. In Matthew 18:3, Jesus admonished us to be like children.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE PLATE AND THE PALATE

 

I was thinking this morning.... I was still doing my Masters, when I ran into a former classmate in Benin City. It was a time we were in a hurry to make it. He was looking good and had great panache or like we say, e don hammer. He invited a friend and I for lunch and we obliged. After all, student no dey reject free food. As we gisted, I observed his transformation from our days at the university and was determined to understand his template.

We settled into this popular restaurant in town and placed our order. Of course, someone else was paying, so we ordered 'orobo' portion. As the food was being placed before me, I suddenly heard my stomach grumbling and my mouth salivating. It was like my hunger had doubled. It must be true that the content of the plate determines the reaction of the palate.

Without hesitation, I dug into the dish and kept going until I was full. It was only then that I started to see and think clearly. Like the Scripture says, the eyes of my understanding became open. I started noticing things about my friend that made me contemplate.

After an hour of gisting, I still couldn't say exactly how he made the money he was spending. From his expensive smelling frangrance to his designer clothes, I imagined how what he was spending could pay my school fees ten times over. What about his wristwatch? Hmm! It was even gold plated.

The more I saw, the stronger my doubt about the source of his wealth, and the more I got uncomfortable and decided to cut short the outing. We shook hands one more time as he dropped us off on campus. As he turned to speed away, I looked again to wave a goodbye, and I caught a glimpse of the licence. Wow! His nickname was on the number plate.

As I opened the gate and walked towards my room at the BQ, I recalled the words of Proverbs 1:10, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not.' I re-appraised my values one more time. I would rather enjoy a plate of jollof rice cooked with firewood than pretend to be a big boy using an electric hotplate.

The devil will always tempt us with the luxury of life to derail us, but Ephesians 6:14 had admonished us to stand, gird our waist with truth, and have righteousness as our breastplate.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

WHERE YOU DEY CARRY ME DEY GO?

 

I was thinking this morning morning..... Have you ever flown those intercontinental flights that take about 14 hours? I did it a couple of times in my younger years without hassle. On such a flight, you eat, watch movies, read, sleep, wake up, watch movies again, stand to stretch your legs, but the trip never seems to end. Like Fela sang in one of his oldies, the trip go tire your body. E go tire your mind.

This was my feeling on a recent trip, and I couldn't but recall the experience of a young Warri girl, as told by a colleague. In his early days in one of the oil companies in Warri, his colleague, who was single at the time, got an international posting. In order not to sojourn in the far away land alone, he hurriedly perfected his wedding to his Warri girlfriend.

It was a dream come true for this Warri girl, travelling abroad for the first time, and more so, with the love of her life. When the journey started, it was wonderful. She ate, watched movies, and gisted with her husband, but the journey was just beginning. She slept and woke up after a few hours, yet they were not there. At one point, doubt about her safety and whether she could really trust the man she just got married to, started to creep in.

A couple of hours later, the doubt had changed to fear and the fear had taken the better part of her enthusiasm. She turned and looked at her newly wed husband straight in the eyes and said, "My guy, where you dey carry me dey go?" Before her husband could explain, she broke into tears. According to my colleague, it took other passengers to console this young Warri girl that her husband was not taking her for slave trade.

Sometimes, we all have doubts about the process and journey of life. You left your job and comfort zone, convinced by a friend, to travel abroad for greener pastures. Or you recently made a big decision in your career or business that you thought was going to change your life. Now, a few years on, and you are not sure anymore. It's okay to cry and ask, "Lord, where you dey carry me dey go?"

If God is the one that is taking you, relax and fear not. You are not alone. Abraham looked forward to a city whose architect and builder is God (Hebrews 11:10). God is taking you to a glorious place.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

THE POPCORN GENERATION

 

I was thinking this morning...... I attended a training with some colleagues this past week and was discussing how we coped with life in the seventies and eighties. A colleague who became a seafarer at 18 told us how they routinely spend 6 months at sea without phones, video calls, or social media. This was a period when you sent an email, and the shortest time you got a response was 24 hours. How did they even survive those years? How did they not die of boredom?

As he spoke, I reflected on our lives in Warri. How we gathered in the yard to play and wait till 4 pm when TV station resumes. There were no flat screen TVs or video games for us as children. For those lucky enough to have a television, their screen time was no more than 5 hours daily. We didn't die of boredom. Our life was not slow.

Life today is different. Very different. Young people of today live in a bubble. They are the popcorn generation, who wants to change from corn to popcorn in seconds. They live in a fast world, eat fast foods, and drive fast cars except that they do not fast, to strengthen their spirit man.

Oh, the popcorn generation. They say they are socially and upwardly mobile and in a hurry to get rich. The Yahoo gang of that generation spend their time on mobile phones, live in mobile apartments, invest heavily in mobile data and at the end they become guests of mobile police.

For the rest of us that are legit, our lives have become virtual reality. We hold our family and business meetings in virtual spaces. Instead of going on vacation to appreciate nature, we do virtual tours. We spend virtual currency to pay for our kids to have virtual learning. Sadly, we have all become avatars in a virtual world.

When I recently saw my NYSC photo and how my trousers looked like skirt, I knew immediately that the popcorn generation would not understand. Every good thing in life takes time. The radio jingle of old says, "Jeje o, my friend o, no rush life o, you hear. Jeje o, jeje o, take am coolee oo." Where are we in a hurry to? Relax and appreciate life. Ecclesiastes 9:7-9 comes to mind. Be real. Be human. Be alive.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy New Month!

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

NA WETIN I GAIN?

 

I was thinking this morning..... It was my colleague's birthday a couple of weeks ago, and in my usual manner, I sent him a short email greeting, saying, "Happy birthday. Kindly accept my best wishes." Everyone else I had sent that message to in the past always responded with a simple "thank you." But this my guy gave a completely different but profound response. He responded, "Thanks, Mr Wey....but wetin I gain if I no receive your best wishes?"

The response got me thinking. Truly, is there a possibility that he wouldn't accept my best wishes? I have always known that "Kindly accept my best wishes" is a polite and formal way of expressing your well wishes to someone. What I have, however, not thought about is whether anyone really considers accepting or not accepting.

I can understand someone rejecting a birthday gift but haven't imagined someone not accepting one's best wishes. As I walked into the office the next morning, still musing on the response, another colleague who had offended me the day before said, "Good morning." My carnal mind was telling me to ignore him, but then my church mind said, "Mr Wey, na wetin you gain if you no receive his good morning?"

The "Na wetin I gain" test is a trigger for deep and honest reflection. There are many things we do that we would not, if only we subject ourselves to the "Na wetin I gain" test. You are a man and said your wife offended you. Therefore, you refused to eat her food or touch her. Chai! Na wetin you gain?

You are in a position of authority. Together with your cronies, you stole the funds meant for providing basic amenities, including health care. When you are sick, you run abroad, forgetting you have family and friends here that will become victims of your failures here. Na wetin you gain?

The Warri bible version of Mark 8:36 says, "Na wetin person go gain if e kolobi the whole world and come kpai im soul?" Before you take the next big decision, ask yourself the question, "Na wetin I gain?"

But wait o... Is today not my mum's birthday? Na wetin you gain if you no join me to send her best wishes?

Happy Birthday, Maami!

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

ARSENAL HAPPENS TO US ALL

 

I was thinking this morning.... The last  four weeks have been terrible for true Arsenal fans. Arsenal FC last won the Premier League in 2003/2004 season. There was so much expectation of them winning something this season, but like in recent years, they faltered in the last mile. First, they gave up the fight with Liverpool for the Premier League, and then their only chance of winning a trophy after 5 years, the Champions League, evaporated after losing to PSG home and away. Since then, the Gunners and Gooners have been the butts of jokes.

Memes and AI generated photos were shared widely on social media with the most striking being a video of a young man approaching a young lady and said, 'Since Arsenal hasn't won a trophy this season, every Arsenal fan will want a girl like you because you are a walking trophy.' Chai! O enter gan. Another that got me thinking was the AI generated image of Arsenal players atop an open roof double-decker bus in the streets of London with the inscription 'We Tried FC.'

Despite Arsenal holding the record for the highest number of FA Cup wins, having claimed the trophy 14 times, most recently in 2020, it didn't stop the trolls focusing on the one thing we've failed at, the Champions League. But then, aren't we all part of 'We Tried FC'? I doubt if there is anyone who has never tried and failed in one way or another. Arsenal happens to us all.

It's the way of the world. First they force you to focus on your failures rather than your success. Next, they will laugh at you for putting in your best and not succeeding. How has putting in your best and not succeeding become a sin? You've studied hard and attempted an exam multiple times and not succeeded, and haters call you 'We Tried FC.' Haba!

Sadly, not everyone can manage failure well, particularly when teased or laughed at. The 19-year-old female student from Ikorodu that committed suicide because she scored 146 in the last JAMB UTME exam, lower then her 190 score for last year, probably did so because she felt disappointed and was afraid of being seen as part of 'We Tried FC.' It was Winston Churchill who said, 'Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.' Isaac Newton, Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Edison and many other great men all failed spectacularly before they succeeded. Proverbs 24:16 says, 'Though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again'. Arsenal happens to us all and it is not a curse.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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

WHO IS YOUR SAMARITAN?

 

I was thinking this morning.... a couple of weeks ago, we got the sad news of the death of an elder in church. He was about 70 years old. While his passing was shocking, the manner he died was heart-wrenching. He retired from active service not too long ago and started living alone not long after, having separated from his wife of so many years. The children are all grown up and living on their own.

On the fateful Monday morning, he collapsed while washing clothes. Because he lived alone, there was no one to help. For the next 4 days, he laid dead in his flat. No one who came to look for him got alarmed enough by his absence to break into his flat. By the weekend, the offensive smell and swarm of flies by his window had attracted the attention of his neighbours, who later broke in and discovered his decomposing corpse. 

In my shock, my mind wondered. How is it possible that for the 5 days he was dead in his flat, no one loved him enough to be alarmed by his being incommunicado to go look for him? Where were his children? What was his relationship with his neighbours? Should a 70 year old man even be living alone? There are so many unanswered questions.

Of all the questions, there was one that I couldn't shake off my mind for a long time. For 30 years or more, this man gave the best part of his life bringing up his children. How is it possible that for 5 days, none of the children called their father, who they know live alone, to the point of becoming alarmed when there was no response after 48 hrs? 

I still don't have all the answers and probably never would, but it is important for every man to plan for their retirement years after the kids are long gone. Be intentional about maintaining harmony with your spouse. Aside from death, it is a terrible loss to be separated from your spouse at old age when you both should provide each other succour. Building a strong relationship with your neighbours is another must. 

We all need a Samaritan in life (Luke 10:36), who will care enough to go out of his/her way to ensure you are okay. The Samaritan could be your spouse, child, neighbour, or brother in the Lord. Who is your Samaritan?

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

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