Of Ghosts and Cemetries

The conversation at the dinner table last night eventually led to talk about ghosts and cemeteries, only because one of us had expressed her fear of burial grounds. I was asked if I share the same fear and I said no, which is only a half truth. For, as I have discovered, to my own surprise all fear of ghosts and burial grounds always disappeared whenever I set foot on foreign soil.

Throughout last year, while riding back to my apartment at eleven or twelve o clock at night, I get to pass through a dimly lighted bike path with thick woods on its either side. And I’d always wondered to myself where all the trepidation went that I would usually have while walking at a similar place in Ibadan or anywhere in South-Western Nigeria around the same time. The conclusion, of course, was that the fears were only conditioned by familiarity. Perhaps it is impossible to import fear across such a wide ocean as the Atlantic. Note: I noticed a similar trend of artificially acquired confidence while in Northern Nigeria, and in Kenya. Suddenly, it seems that the best way to rid a human of fear is to transport them to a different environment.

Now when I see cemeteries and tombstones, at whatever time of the night, the only thing I want to do is to take pictures of/with them. It must come from watching too much of Michael Jackson. And yes, I’m still going to spend a night at the Lemp Mansion sometime soon.

Yeah Yeah.

There’s magic in company, perhaps the best known means of socialization known to man. I spent yesterday in good company after a long sytax test, and it was all justified in the end. From the early birthday card from faraway that had lovely words written in my language, to the beautiful and thoughtful one surprisingly waiting on my office table when I got there early in the morning, to the happy hugs, virtual and text messages from near and far, calls, and beautiful birthday songs of friends and family, I should say I had fun.

Special thanks to everyone who thought of me. I appreciate it. The after party eventually ended at a dining table in a professor’s house, all – as usual – within wine, laughters, food, fun, photos, socialization, nostalgia, and all the perks of warm happy humanity. I should probably have my birthday every day of the year.

Twenty-nine and Counting

It’s probably been a while since I last celebrated my birthday in contemplation. Ah, it was just twelve months ago, on the wings of an earlier interesting travel experience. But other birthdays before then manage to fade away in comparison and I tell myself in the mirror as I go out that I’m an adult already. I think the idea has properly sunk in by now. Perhaps the most memorable birthday was that one of whose memory I don’t even possess beyond that which is shown to me in the glossy photos of childhood. I had just turned two years old (or is it three), and was looking good and innocent behind a cake and a horde of neighbours invited to celebrate. I still look at that picture every now and then. All the invited guests of that day are now scattered all over the world in different endeavours.

Starched new clothes, shiny shoes, jollof rice and chicken (or fried fish), and cake (of course) made by mum to make the day feel special, I have fleeting images of birthdays looked forward to with such eagerness and delight. It always helped when the day fell during the week. I would be except from wearing the school uniform. I could show off a new attire and get the whole class to sing me a birthday song. Of course I also had to go to school with sweets and biscuits for those said classmates and teachers. I remember chocomilo, bazooka and sumal chewing gums, and Marie biscuits, and 7up, Crush and Mirinda. And some little solid sweets of many colours we used to call eyin alangba. Birthdays during those years of innocence were one of those days of the year when you get to be king for twenty-four hours and dictate your choice of food and drinks. The other day is whenever you came home with a report card that said you took the first position in the school year.

Gone are those days now. Today I will spend the early part of the evening taking a syntax examination with no singing, and no jollof rice whatsoever.

But in the distance between the pleasant innocence of childhood and the now grown maturity of youth, there has been very much to be thankful for, too many to count. From love of friends and colleagues, the assuring presence of family, to even the reliable permanence of season, every turn has been rendered a blessing not quantifiable by words. And for that will I spend this day in the gratefulness for all things good, happy, cheerful and soothing. I’m a year older again, it seems. It is a prime number, a number divisible only by 1 and itself. Ah, the delight of arithmetic. This is also the last year of my twenties.

This is the oldest I’ve been yet. So maybe it’s time to prepare for all needed rites of real adulthood, in within a mouthful of the best delicacies of this day, thankful in the process for the great gift of life.

What is your best Yoruba proverb?

There are so many of them, but here’s one circling my head at the moment: “T’omode ba mowo we, a ba agba jeun.” Translation: When a child washes his/her hand well, s/he could eat with elders. What’s yours?

Ask me anything

If all the politicians that have declared to run for the 2011 Presidency in Nigeria are the only ones contesting, who will you vote for?

I’m faraway in America so I don’t think my vote will count, unfortunately, but if it does, I might give it to Goodluck.

Meanwhile, check out this joke:

Ibrahim Babangida visited a school to campaign.

The excited kids wanted to ask him questions and he obliged them.

Dayo stood up and said “Mr. President, I have three questions”:

1. Who killed Dele Giwa?
2. Why did you annul the June 12 Election?
3. Who frustrated the judicial processes and why was Gani Fawehinmi not allowed to try your security chiefs for the murder of Dele Giwa based on the evidence he had?

Before Babangida could answer, the recess bell rang, and the kids went on break. When they came back the session continued.

Musa got up and said “Mr. President, I have five questions for you?”

1. Who killed Dele Giwa?
2. Why did you annul the June 12 Election?
3. Who frustrated the judicial processes and why was Gani Fawehinmi not allowed to try your security chiefs for the murder of Dele Giwa based on the evidence he had?
4. Why did the recess bell ring one hour early?
5. Where’s Dayo???

Ask me anything