Let the Children BE Children

There was the recent International uproar about the marriage of Senator Ahmed Yerima, to a 13year old Egyptian bride, who is the daughter of the Distinguished Senator’s driver.

The debate dominated Internet Chat-rooms, Radio & Television programmes, living rooms, Beer parlors and every other gathering of Intelligent and gossip-minded folks.

Collective angst at the callousness of such a high-ranking Government official was rife and no-one hesitated in expressing their disgust and disbelief at how such a blatant abuse of a Minor can be celebrated in broad daylight.

Through all this, I remained silent.

Silent because I’ve vowed within myself not to get caught up in all the hogwash we Nigerians love to engage in.

Silent because, correct me if I’m wrong, but what exactly is new about what Senator Yerima has done?

Child Marriages have been a part of most Northern cultures for generations!! We have ALL known about this…abi is it your first time hearing about thirteen year old virgins getting married to older males?

It’s one of those things that are condemnably wrong, but we have all accepted and actually embraced as a part of our collective consciousness. The only reason there was uproar about this particular incident, is because the person in question is a Senator, and an easy victim to make a scapegoat.

Marriage or sexual intercourse with a minor is a clear violation of the provisions of Section 21 of the Child Rights Act, which states:

“No person under the age of 18 years is capable of contracting a valid marriage, and, accordingly, a marriage so contracted is null and void and of no effect whatsoever.” Section 22(1) states: “No parent, guardian or any other person shall betroth a child to any person. (2) a betrothal in contravention of sub section (1) of this section is null and void.” Section 23 goes on to specify that “a person (a) who marries a child, or (b) to whom a child is betrothed, or (who) promotes the marriage of a child, or (d) who betroths a child, commits an offence and is liable on conviction to a fine of N500, 000; or imprisonment for a term of five years or to both such fine and imprisonment’’.



Is someone going to try to convince me that between now and 2003 when the CRA was established, there have NOT been any Marriages to minors anywhere in Nigeria?!

Why has no-one been prosecuted? Why has there not been a National debate about it since? Why has no-one risen up in the Media to defend the rights of the tons of children whose rights are daily being infringed upon right here in Nigeria? Why do we only acknowledge wrong when it is being committed by someone who has a lot to lose if we judge him?

I first came into contact with the CRA early this year, while doing Research for Content of the ‘Heart of the Matter’, which is a talk-show I produce. We invited a Child Advocacy Group called the African Network for the Prevention and Protection Against Child Abuse & Neglect (ANPPCAN), to the Show, and for the first time, my eyes were opened to the harsh brutalities children are made to suffer in this country.

For the first time, I realized that children actually had clearly laid-out Rights, and my heart ached at the fact that witnessing these Rights being taken away from them had become a normal part of my everyday experience.



Everyday, I watch children on the streets of Lagos, rush to clean my window shield at 11am; a time when they should be in school.

Everyday, I see little girls and boys being made to carry load on their head, earning a living for their families, while their little bodies are burdened by the back-breaking labor.

Everyday, I see children go to school during the day, and hit the streets at night to hustle to make ends meet for their families.

I see little girls transported from remote villages to urban cities to slave away their formative years as house helps to the Rich.

All these, and more of the things we have accepted to be normal, are clearly defined Violations of the Child Rights Act.

Yes, Senator Ahmed Yerima has abused a little girl by marrying her and possibly engaging in sexual intercourse with her.

But so have we.

By ignoring the cry for help from the little ones on our streets, have we not abused them?



By accepting as ‘Normal’ the suffering of innocent children within our environment, have we not teamed up with their Abusers?

By doing nothing, when we see a young child being mistreated, manhandled and forced to become adults in their childhood, have we not become a part of the violation of their Rights?

We certify ANYTHING to be Ok the moment we Accept it.

Please, let’s STOP accepting the brutal rape on the rights of our nation’s children.



Let the Children BE Children.

(All photographs courtesy Oladipo Oladapo...www.phunshots.com)

LIVE from My Birthday Bash at Kirikiri Women's Prison

No form of Camera Equipment is allowed into Kirikiri Women’s Prison, so I’m gonna have to rely completely on my Storytelling abilities, in bringing you all that went down at my Birthday Bash which held at the Prison.



We spent the first few minutes after arriving at the Prison, carrying all the food and drinks we had brought for the Party into the Security Reception of Kirikiri.

Then we were all given a thorough Body Search (no Club Bouncers I know have got anything on the FIERCE female guards at Club Kirikiri), and then handed green tallies which are our tickets in and out of the Prison.

We were warned by the Guards to hold on dearly to these tallies, as failure by any one of us to return any of them on our Exit, will result in being detained. A smart Prison Inmate can steal it and walk out in our place.



Lol..my friends and I didn’t waste any time tucking the tallies into our Bras and every other safe Body parts.

Soon we were allowed in after one more set of safety Instructions by the kind, motherly Guards. The Inmates were already gathered together in the only conducive Party Venue in Kirikiri, the Chapel.

The Prison band were belting out some lovely tunes that had us already moving our bodies as we walked in. They rushed to us as soon as we walked in, welcoming us with such excitement and screaming ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY ’ to me, with lots of hugs and kisses.

I joyfully received the hand-made birthday card that Bukky, a very pretty and articulate young Inmate, had made me.





Never in my life have any group of people welcomed me with such love and open arms.



The party proper soon began: we danced and sang together to the great songs being delivered by the talented Singers.

They had actually prepared a Comedy Sketch for me, which was so funny, we all laughed till we had tears in our eyes.

Then Lovette, an Inmate who had been incarcerated for 7years for taking someone who was almost bleeding to death after an Abortion gone badly, to the hospital, shared her story with us. In spite of the great Injustice which has been committed against her, Lovette was grateful to God for bringing her to Prison, because not only has she discovered the joy of being in an Intimate relationship with Him right here in Prison, she has also found a loving family amongst her fellow Inmates.

Mary, a ridiculously funny, dark-skinned beauty, came and shared a brain-cracking riddle with us. I gave up trying to figure out what the answer was even before she had finished saying the riddle. However, my friend Wonuola Odunsi figured the riddle out in barely a minute. She and Mary excitedly high-fived each other as everyone cheered.

Vivian, our Master of Ceremonies for the day, impressed everyone with the way she co-ordinated the Event with so much mastery and humor. I was so touched by the fact that these Inmates had gone through so much trouble to plan my Birthday Party.

Pastor Abraham, a great man who has dedicated his life to serving the interests of Inmates in Prisons all around the country, and the one who made it possible for me to hold my Party there, came out and briefly shared with us a message about loving ourselves and appreciating who God has made us to be.

He has such an amazing relationship with the Inmates; they adore him and have so much regard for him and his wife. My friends and I were inspired by how much HOPE his message and just his assuring presence, brought to the eyes of the Inmates.

Then EVERYONE sang the 'Happy Birthday' song to me!!

Soon, it was time for us to go…there is only a limited amount of time we are allowed to Party at Club Kirikiri!! We couldn’t FEAST together with the Inmates for Security reasons..Prison Policy demands that they be served food in their individual cells. *sad*

I don’t think I had the words in my Vocabulary, to communicate to the beautiful women at Kirikiri Women’s Prison, how they had blessed me with what I know is the greatest and most meaningful birthday I have EVER celebrated in my life.

As we all said our goodbye’s, we were besieged with so many hugs and kisses from the Inmates. They all came out into the huge courtyard and waved goodbye until we were fully ushered out into the Security Reception.

My friends and I fortunately had all our tallies on us, and so were allowed out by the Guards!! But not until after they had also hugged us and poured out kind blessings on us.

We were all so overwhelmed by the love and good-naturedness we had received from every single person in the Prison. They taught us so much about Gratitude, and the FREEDOM to be found in Rejoicing, regardless of whatever situation we find ourselves.


(L-R)Wonu Odunsi, Pst Abe's Assistant, Pastor Abe's wife, Ngozi Omambala, Pastor Abraham, Me, Nnena Okoye, Toni Tones, Toke Makinwa, Dami Olaiya, Aisha Ibrahim & (John my P.A. took the pic)

As with every other time I have been in Kirikiri Women’s Prison, I walked out of there, knowing I had just paid Jesus Christ a visit. A PEACE that can only come from being in God’s presence is the gift my friends and I were given as we left the Prison Grounds.

And as is always the case, I NEVER walk out the same person I was when I walked in.

Blond Nigerian Answer To The Race Question?!

Of course my first reaction to the story about the Ihegboro’s, a Nigerian couple in London, England who gave birth to a Blond baby girl was “The woman’s Underground train has finally come out of the tunnel!!”

As in seriously now, how, when and where has it EVER been heard that a Black couple have a White child?!

But after reading the story, it’s actually looking more and more like we have just all witnessed a MIRACLE!!

The baby is not Albino, and the woman claims she hasn’t been creeping around. Her husband seems to believe her, so who am I to suggest otherwise.

Even if she’s been ‘getting it’ from some Caucasian guy, he has to be another level of Superman to completely dominate the child’s DNA and leave absolutely no trace of the mother’s race.

It’s interesting to me because just about 2 days ago, I was wondering within myself how all the different races of Humankind emerged. I was imagining a situation where ancient people like Noah in the Bible had different children who were Caucasian, Asian-looking, Black and even Middle-Eastern, in one family.

If all humanity began from one man, then it means that situations like this Nigerian couple’s were a normal thing in the B.C. days. Where a brown-skinned, sunburned Arabian couple would have produced a slanty-eyed, martial-art playing little boy!!

If not, then what other explanation is there as to how so many different kinds of people could have originated from one person. Or can we argue that everyone initially looked the same but as they migrated to different parts of the earth, transformed into whatever physical dispositions their environments demanded of them?!

What if people back then just accepted whatever came out after labor, no matter how it looked, as a child nonetheless, and then these children when they grew, migrated to different parts of the earth better suited for their Inhabitation, and then formed what we now know as Races?

Whatever it is, the Ihegboro’s ‘Miracle Child’, if all things being equal and the mother wasn’t getting busy on the side, has just shown the world that indeed, all these differences we hold on to so dearly are simply elements of our one Humanness.

Maybe blond haired baby, Nmachi Ihegboro, is God’s answer to the Race question, just like Caster Semanya, the hermaphrodite Athlete, may be His answer to the Gender question.

Hmmnnn..so I wonder what His answer to the Gay question would be??!

Again I say, if all things being equal, and there was no mago-mago involved in these extraordinary events!!

I wonder what Question I’m His answer to though?! Hmmnnnnn...

'Wande Coal' Nude Picture - My Thoughts

Like the TONS of people who have now seen the nude picture of the person supposed to be singer, Wande Coal, my first reaction to it was as regards the size of his 'Schloink'!!!

MoHits has since released an official Press Statement on Bellanaija.com denying that the person in the picture is the 'Ololufe' crooner.

To be honest, my first published version of this post, was not quite as nice as this. I took a jab at Wande and MoHits, and made fun of him like I'm sure a lot of you have done.

I am now ashamed of myself and apologise to anyone who read the initial one, for being so irresponsible!! It's this BITCH in me that I keep telling you about...

Anyway, I was actually sad to see my dear Wande(or his Body Double) like that. The reason I now feel ashamed is because it could have happened to ANYONE..even Me. Who am I to judge him or make fun of him for being in such a vulnerable position?!

A lot of people (women especially) have suffered the shame of being snapped and exposed in compromising sexual positions. Most times, they trusted the person who took the picture enough to get that comfortable..so it must be devastating to see pictures (or videos) of themselves eventually being passed around.

The lesson to be learned from this experience is Simple:

We should ALWAYS cover each other's Nakedness, rather than expose, exploit and ridicule the person, especially when they entrusted us with their Vulnerability.

Once again, shame on me for laughing..and if YOU are still laughing at Wande and passing that picture around, please reconsider abeg!!

So I've decided to be a Good Girl now ooooooooo!!!

My Baby Faced His Own Mortality

My heart is really heavy and I’m trying to control myself as I write this. A friend just lost her son barely 9months after giving birth to him.

I don’t even want to imagine what she’s going through right now; the glimpse of the pain she might be feeling right now is tearing me apart.

I mentioned to you guys about two weeks ago, a difficult period my family had to go through; I said then that I wasn’t prepared to talk about it, but I think I want to now.

You’ve probably heard me talk about my 7 year old nephew, Bade. One of the shining lights of my life.

For about 3weeks my heart broke into all kinds of pieces as I watched Bade suffer in pain. It began as a fever, which we immediately assumed was malaria, and put him on medication.

Nothing changed though, as his temperature continued to soar and he couldn’t keep any food down, throwing up even in the middle of the night. I remember lying awake through the night praying and asking God to heal his body.

We took him to the hospital as soon as we saw that it wasn’t a minor fever like we thought and there they tested him for Typhoid and the usual. They also started administering drugs and much to his agony, giving him all kinds of injections.

Bade STILL wasn’t responding to treatment. He would seem better, but then from nowhere, his temperature would rise again and he kept complaining about a pain in his tummy.

The Doctors and Nurses at the hospital were totally incompetent! One evening, as I watched my sister almost tell the Doctor what he should be doing, the fear that gripped me was REAL. All I could think was, “My Bade’s life is actually in the hand of this DUMB F*#K right now?!”

My sister didn’t wait a second longer, and we immediately moved him to a Children’s Hospital in Lekki called Lifeline.

There we relaxed a little as these were actual Pediatricians’ who seemed to know what they were doing and unlike the Doctors at the other hospital, were not ignoring the constant pain in his tummy that Bade kept moaning about.

He got a bit more stable soon after getting to Lifeline, and we were all grateful for the timely decision my sister had made in moving him.

Then night came, and the pain in Bade’s tummy became unbearable for him. He screamed through the night grasping tightly to his mother’s body saying over and over to her “Mummy save me, Mummy pray for me!!”

My sister called me early in the morning from the hospital weeping uncontrollably as she told me what they had gone through in the night. He had only just been able to go off to sleep a few minutes ago.

I was so confused; I didn’t know what to do. My whole family where we all were in different parts of the world were also shaken and troubled at what was going on. The decision was immediately made to take him to London that same day.

I prayed. We all prayed and took a family Communion together, even though we weren’t physically present with each other.

The Doctors however, advised us against flying him in the condition that he was. We sought a second opinion, and they also said it would be extremely dangerous to have him in the air for 6hours and all the time it would take to get to a Specialist in London.

The Doctors at Lifeline then decided to perform Surgery, as they suspected a ruptured appendix.

That’s the worst thing that could have been told my family at that point. Although no one was saying it out loud, I know what we were all thinking; My Dad died after surgery was performed on him.

We felt the Doctors weren’t too sure, but they took us through all their diagnosis and as Bade kept on screaming, we decided to let them do what they could.

Six ‘o’ clock came, and as I watched them roll Bade away on that gurney, preparing him for Surgery, I don’t think I even have the words to describe how I felt.

I know my Mum, Bade’s parents, my sisters and the family friends who were also there were feeling the same thing at that precise moment.

We prayed again.

Soon Bade was alone in the Operating Theater with the Surgeon and other Doctors. I felt as though my heart was on that Operating table.

However, God gave us Peace.

As I looked at the faces of everyone with me in the room as we waited, I knew that all our hearts were in there, yet, the way we carried on, if you had walked in, you’d never have guessed that our little angel, was currently going through a battle for his life in the next room.

Just about 2hours after, the Surgeon called my sister into the Theater to come see what they found. His appendix was fine, but it was a far more life-threatening situation we were now facing.

Peritonitis. Fluids had leaked from his stomach organs and had accumulated, causing him the acute pain he had been facing and making his tummy swell.

The fever, vomiting and all other symptoms he had been experiencing were also as a result of the Peritonitis.

Fluid leakage all by itself is not so much of an issue, even though it causes tremendous pain; the real issue is that after a while, the fluid gets infected, and trust me, I don’t think I even want to imagine what could have happened to Bade if it had gotten there.

We quickly gave thanks to God for letting the Doctors go into Bade’s body when they did.

All the fluid was drained and the doctors did excellently to stop the disease in its tracks. Soon Bade was all stitched up, and placed in Recovery.

However, I could still feel the tension from my family. My Dad’s operation had also been successful, but he died shortly after due to some complications.

So yet again, we prayed and gave thanks to God for ALL He had done.

Bade is fine now, back to his usual naughty self. He has matured so much in the month that all this happened. I have seen him toughen up in different ways. Well, I’m sure anyone who is confronted with their own Mortality will.

He bears the scars of the Battle as a testimony to what God carried us through.

I take pleasure these days, in just lying in the darkness of my bedroom and listening to him laugh, scream and play. It’s like the sound of heaven to me.

I know what my family and I went through just watching Bade suffer so much. I don’t want to imagine what we could have been going through right now if we had lost him; as much as I hate to think about it, I know that we came pretty close to losing him.

My friend has just lost her only baby boy.

Oh God, You alone know why You allowed this happen. Please Lord, give her husband and her the strength, the Peace, and the Comfort that only You can give at dark times such as these.

You are the Light in the Valley.

My Baby Faced His Own Mortality

My heart is really heavy and I’m trying to control myself as I write this. A friend just lost her son barely 9months after giving birth to him.

I don’t even want to imagine what she’s going through right now; the glimpse of the pain she might be feeling right now is tearing me apart.

I mentioned to you guys about two weeks ago, a difficult period my family had to go through; I said then that I wasn’t prepared to talk about it, but I think I want to now.

You’ve probably heard me talk about my 7 year old nephew, Bade. One of the shining lights of my life.

For about 3weeks my heart broke into all kinds of pieces as I watched Bade suffer in pain. It began as a fever, which we immediately assumed was malaria, and put him on medication.

Nothing changed though, as his temperature continued to soar and he couldn’t keep any food down, throwing up even in the middle of the night. I remember lying awake through the night praying and asking God to heal his body.

We took him to the hospital as soon as we saw that it wasn’t a minor fever like we thought and there they tested him for Typhoid and the usual. They also started administering drugs and much to his agony, giving him all kinds of injections.

Bade STILL wasn’t responding to treatment. He would seem better, but then from nowhere, his temperature would rise again and he kept complaining about a pain in his tummy.

The Doctors and Nurses at the hospital were totally incompetent! One evening, as I watched my sister almost tell the Doctor what he should be doing, the fear that gripped me was REAL. All I could think was, “My Bade’s life is actually in the hand of this DUMB F*#K right now?!”

My sister didn’t wait a second longer, and we immediately moved him to a Children’s Hospital in Lekki called Lifeline.

There we relaxed a little as these were actual Pediatricians’ who seemed to know what they were doing and unlike the Doctors at the other hospital, were not ignoring the constant pain in his tummy that Bade kept moaning about.

He got a bit more stable soon after getting to Lifeline, and we were all grateful for the timely decision my sister had made in moving him.

Then night came, and the pain in Bade’s tummy became unbearable for him. He screamed through the night grasping tightly to his mother’s body saying over and over to her “Mummy save me, Mummy pray for me!!”

My sister called me early in the morning from the hospital weeping uncontrollably as she told me what they had gone through in the night. He had only just been able to go off to sleep a few minutes ago.

I was so confused; I didn’t know what to do. My whole family where we all were in different parts of the world were also shaken and troubled at what was going on. The decision was immediately made to take him to London that same day.

I prayed. We all prayed and took a family Communion together, even though we weren’t physically present with each other.

The Doctors however, advised us against flying him in the condition that he was. We sought a second opinion, and they also said it would be extremely dangerous to have him in the air for 6hours and all the time it would take to get to a Specialist in London.

The Doctors at Lifeline then decided to perform Surgery, as they suspected a ruptured appendix.

That’s the worst thing that could have been told my family at that point. Although no one was saying it out loud, I know what we were all thinking; My Dad died after surgery was performed on him.

We felt the Doctors weren’t too sure, but they took us through all their diagnosis and as Bade kept on screaming, we decided to let them do what they could.

Six ‘o’ clock came, and as I watched them roll Bade away on that gurney, preparing him for Surgery, I don’t think I even have the words to describe how I felt.

I know my Mum, Bade’s parents, my sisters and the family friends who were also there were feeling the same thing at that precise moment.

We prayed again.

Soon Bade was alone in the Operating Theater with the Surgeon and other Doctors. I felt as though my heart was on that Operating table.

However, God gave us Peace.

As I looked at the faces of everyone with me in the room as we waited, I knew that all our hearts were in there, yet, the way we carried on, if you had walked in, you’d never have guessed that our little angel, was currently going through a battle for his life in the next room.

Just about 2hours after, the Surgeon called my sister into the Theater to come see what they found. His appendix was fine, but it was a far more life-threatening situation we were now facing.

Peritonitis. Fluids had leaked from his stomach organs and had accumulated, causing him the acute pain he had been facing and making his tummy swell.

The fever, vomiting and all other symptoms he had been experiencing were also as a result of the Peritonitis.

Fluid leakage all by itself is not so much of an issue, even though it causes tremendous pain; the real issue is that after a while, the fluid gets infected, and trust me, I don’t think I even want to imagine what could have happened to Bade if it had gotten there.

We quickly gave thanks to God for letting the Doctors go into Bade’s body when they did.

All the fluid was drained and the doctors did excellently to stop the disease in its tracks. Soon Bade was all stitched up, and placed in Recovery.

However, I could still feel the tension from my family. My Dad’s operation had also been successful, but he died shortly after due to some complications.

So yet again, we prayed and gave thanks to God for ALL He had done.

Bade is fine now, back to his usual naughty self. He has matured so much in the month that all this happened. I have seen him toughen up in different ways. Well, I’m sure anyone who is confronted with their own Mortality will.

He bears the scars of the Battle as a testimony to what God carried us through.

I take pleasure these days, in just lying in the darkness of my bedroom and listening to him laugh, scream and play. It’s like the sound of heaven to me.

I know what my family and I went through just watching Bade suffer so much. I don’t want to imagine what we could have been going through right now if we had lost him; as much as I hate to think about it, I know that we came pretty close to losing him.

My friend has just lost her only baby boy.

Oh God, You alone know why You allowed this happen. Please Lord, give her husband and her the strength, the Peace, and the Comfort that only You can give at dark times such as these.

You are the Light in the Valley.

Hey Guys, Do You Have The BALLS To Read This?!

A few weeks ago, we talked about the 2 kinds of girls there are in Lagos; for the purpose of that post, I identified them ‘The Lover Girl’ and ‘The Sucker Girl’.

Today, I’m sharing my observations on the different types of guys I’ve seen and interacted with in Lagos.

I will say again, that there may be more types of guys than the three I’m identifying here, but for the purpose of this post, here are my three different types of guys in Lagos (or maybe in the world?!):


The Fly Guy

I don’t mean this in a bad way, but this guy is completely LOST!!

His expressed identity is marked by the fact that he has absolutely no clue who he is. Like with every other human being, the search for meaning and relevance has driven him to embrace all manner of thought patterns and egoic behaviors, as a definition of who he is.

The Fly Guy has become trapped in the false Idea of who he should be, or wants to be, propounded by every single Influential force in this world, other than the one deep within him.

He has no true sense of Self; this is expressed in the things that he uses to define his Self-Worth. You would see the Fly Guy in the clubs, popping Champagne not because he has something to celebrate, or he wants to be generous, but because he feels the need to do that to affirm his worth, not only to himself, but also to people around.

He would also be the Guy who you hear boast about how many chics he has on his case, how much money he has, or basically any other thing he believes would give him some value.

It’s funny because, I know some Fly Guys with genuinely good hearts, but they are sooo lost in being ‘Fly’ that their goodness is choked by the need to be what everyone else expects them to be.

If only the Fly Guy would look deep within himself and search for the core of who he is, Lagos would change overnight, cos we would have way too many Good men in this town.


The Limbo Guy

This guy has had a glimpse of who he can be.

He knows that within him lies the capacity to be a fantastic Leader, Follower, Husband/Boyfriend, and generally an excellent Person.

The problem with him is that he allows himself too many opportunities to be weak.

He knows what is right; he can do what is right; but for some reason, he limits himself from BEING who deep within, he knows he can be.

He has believed the lie that he has to have a certain amount of money, power, influence or whatever, before he can rise up to becoming the person he should be, and so he wallows in the mediocre standards that everyone around him celebrates.

The Limbo Guy constantly has a silent frustration growling on the inside of him. He is not satisfied with where he is and who he expresses himself to be, but he has made himself powerless by the thought that there’s nothing he can do about it.

He’s that guy that you see and would be like “this is a cool guy”, but would turn around and shock you by one really screwed-up thing that he does, which even him would not be able to explain why he did.

If only the Limbo Guy would stop for a moment and say “F*#k it mehn, let whatever wants to happen happen, I’m gonna BE who I know I am, right here, right NOW”, trust me, there’ll be a Revolution in this town.


The God-Man

Alright let me confess, I’m smiling as I’m writing about this Man.

This is a Man. He knows who he is, and has no apologies about it. You can’t blackmail this Man, cos he knows that he is not defined by his past, his weaknesses, or his flaws, but by the resident knowledge that he is from God.

One of the most visible marks of the God-Man is the fact that he takes charge. As a woman, or even as a male, you can’t be around the God-Man and not feel safe.

He is not threatened by anyone, no matter how much more money, power or influence the person has. He is secure in who he is and that security emanates from his veins as some Confidence that everyone perceives, but can hardly define.

The God-Man is powerful by his person. Okay, let me re-phrase; the force of his personality alone, not what he has, commands the utmost respect from whoever comes in contact with him.

In spite of that, he is humble and doesn’t ever see a need to announce himself. He has a kind heart and goes beyond knowing what is right, to actually DOING it.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t make mistakes, but his balls are large enough to allow him take ownership of what he has done and do everything in his capacity to make amends.

Now, don’t think that because I’ve called him a ‘God-Man’ means that he’s some kind of holier-than-thou person who’s always in church or is a Pastor. That’s not what I mean; a God-man can be that guy who everyone thinks is the Villain, because he doesn’t conform to the general standards or expectations. So it’s not a Religous thing, but more a knowledge of Self, and use of that knowledge to touch and impact the lives of others.

Unfortunately, there are only a handful of God-men in Lagos; but the great thing is that the God-Man has an out-of-this-world capacity to inspire the best out of those around him, so I have faith that more and more God-Men would be raised, and hopefully, one of them would come and ask me to marry him. *huge smile*

Anyway, I have to remember that a God-Man is only attracted to a woman who possesses the values he esteems.


So these are the 3 distinct types of Guys I’ve observed right here in Lagos. Checking guys out is a hobby I very unashamedly enjoy, so I’ll be sure to do some more Research on this subject.

For those of you who live outside of this city and know your terrain well, please feel free to enlighten us on the types of guys in your part of the world...

..And Man made God in his own image

I recently remembered the period of my life when I decided I was going to become a Supermodel!!

It was during one of those tormentingly loooonngg strikes or holidays (don’t remember which one it was) while I was in Unilag, and I got very bored and restless. So I got myself into all sorts of stupid and awkward situations, and soon got bored with those also.

Suddenly, I heard a commercial announcing one Silverbird Model Contest (turned out to be a one hit wonder) and my interest was immediately aroused. I made some more enquiries and then decided that I, Tariere Ekiyor, was going to be the next greatest Supermodel.


Janice Dickinson - claims to be World's 1st Supermodel

I didn’t care for one second about the fact that I had no experience in Modelling and was probably not even tall or skinny enough; I just believed it and enforced my unrelentingly stubborn will to making sure it happened.

So I began working out like a deluded monster, cut down on my food and alcohol, and then went deeper, by making a pact with God that I’d be good from then on and stop smoking and doing err...some other things, if only He gave me what I wanted – to win the Contest.

So for the next 2 weeks up until the Audition/Selection Process (not sure what it’s called), Mother Theresa had nothing on me mehhnn!! I was the embodiment of all things Saintly. I even got a few weird and questioning stares from members of my family, but I kept my secret to myself.

Then the D-day came. My lack of experience in the cut-throat world of Fashion, led me to wear a short white dress for the Auditions. I remember staring at all the tall, super-skinny models in black and swallowing once or twice, but I maintained my stance after all, had they made the same Divine Deal or sacrificed to the levels I had?


Kate Moss

My turn came to walk the room before the judges who were to select the girls who would eventually compete. As I strutted before them in all my saintly glory, I’m sure all it took was probably the jig of my traitorous ass (which my friend, Yvonne, has aptly named the ‘Yansh of Shame’) for them to say “NEXT”!!

So I stalked out of there, hailed a taxi, made a quick stop at the first roadside shop I saw and was soon relaxing into the back seat of the cab with a cigarette nicely fired up!!

I remembered this incident after a conversation I was having with a friend yesterday, about how everyone tries to use God to get what they want. For me at the time, I didn’t give a flying ram’s ass what God wanted for me; all I could think about was ‘Supermodel’, ‘Me’.

At various points in my thinking, I’ve had to remind myself a lot, that I exist to fit into God’s plans and not Him into mine. I do wonder what He thinks in situations like my experience where people come to Him and try to manipulate Him to do what they want, even though it goes against the plans He has for them or all that He stands for.

I almost had a heart attack recently when a friend revealed to me that for almost an entire year, she was crying to God every night to ‘Bless’ her with a married man that will come and change her life financially!!

..And Man made God in his own Image...

My Dad was the guy who...

I miss my Daddy!!

He died in 2001 at the age of 62. Even at that age, he was the guy who still used to run down the stairs and get up every morning to do his Yoga routine.

Right from when I was very little, up until just before he died, he would still make the funny yoga facial expressions that would cause me to squeal in frightful excitement and run out of his room.

My Dad always smelled nice. Kourous by Yves Saint Laurent!! That was his fragrance.

He was the Charismatic, tall, handsome and fair-skinned man that was always immaculately turned out. My Dad never missed his manicures and pedicures and after a while even assigned me the exclusive role of doing them for him. It was always a joke around the house that I was his 2nd wife.

He was the guy who when I was struggling with my grades in Secondary school, would leave his busy schedule and come to school and find out from all my teachers why exactly I wasn’t doing well. He never made me feel bad about myself regardless of how many times I would fail, but would instead, boast proudly to anyone that cared to listen, about how magnificent I was as an Athlete.

My Dad has 10 kids, yet he had a special way of making each and every one of us feel as though we were his favorite. My siblings and I can argue non-stop, each claiming that they were his favorite, because of the special and unique bond he formed with each of us.

He’s the guy who would stay up late at night helping my immediate older sister write the Speech that caused her to win her Law Student Union elections by a landslide.

He’s the guy who would help another sister see the vision of what a few years down the line would be like, when she was having challenges at the beginning of her career and wanted to give up.

He’s the guy who would jokingly boast to us about how he kept no secret from my Mum apart from when he had girlfriends!!

He’s the guy who never turned anyone who came to him for help away without giving them something..anything.

My Dad’s gift to the world was his heart.

A heart that went out to the weak, the poor, the oppressed, and fought valiantly to give them hope for a future.

A heart that gave generously of itself at ALL times, irrespective of if it was getting little or nothing in return.

A heart that was blinded to the flaws of everyone it encountered and addressed each person according to his/her potential.

A heart that loved till the very end.

Even 9 years after you’ve been gone Daddy, you’re still very much a part of me. I see you all the time in my dreams. You’re alive in my dreams; laughing, talking in your usual excited manner, comforting, encouraging. You’re alive Daddy!!!

I’ve been through so much since you’ve been gone. A lot of which I know you’d be disappointed in me for. However, in all of that, I’ve never forgotten something you always said.

Remember when we had to walk past you in church to go take the Holy Communion?! And you’d watch us..your girls, as we walked by?!

Then later. You’d say to us, ‘When you walk, no matter where you are, always hold your head high.”

In spite of everything I’ve been through Daddy, I never forgot that. I’m still holding my head high, Daddy.

Thank you Daddy. I love you.

The Born-again Jihadist

As someone who has lived in Nigeria all my life, I thought I had reached a point where almost nothing could shock me.

I was proven wrong this morning when I opened the newspapers and read the report of the man who tried to blow up a passenger-filled airplane with his taxi. (click on title link for full story)




That is something you honestly don’t see anywhere but in the movies. The last time anything like that happened was in the movie ‘Live Free or Die Hard’ of the Die Hard series, when Bruce Willis’ character "killed an airplane with a car"!!


Bruce Willis

But everyone knows that life in Nigeria is one incredible Nollywood story so why am I surprised?

Different news media have given different accounts of the unknown man’s intentions. 234 Next says he claimed he was Jesus Christ and was trying to save the aircraft from an impending crash.

This Day on the other hand says that he screamed “REPENT!!” and then crashed his taxi under the plane. The paper reports that his message for the 200 people he could have killed was “Jesus is the Redeemer. Everyone should repent and follow him because I will come back and complete the attack”. According to him, Nigerians are unrepentant sinners.




This is some freaky, freaky happening!! So does that mean every bad thing I do from now makes me a potential target for terrorist attack?!

The idea of Jihad has now gone beyond religious boundaries and so anyone who feels that a person or group of people who are not living in conformity to their own idea of what is right, can now take up their own weapon of Mass Destruction to rid the earth of all perceived evil?!!

But wait o….what if according to the Next report he was telling the truth and was indeed trying to save the plane from a crash?! I’m just not convinced about the him being Jesus part though. It’s quite hard for me to reconcile Jesus being a fanatical taxi-driver by day and airplane destroying terrorist by night Efik man.

Then again, is it possible that we all engage in this form of Terrorism every time we judge people for their weaknesses and failures as human beings?? Every time we look down on other people’s beliefs just because they are even slightly different from ours?!




Am I not operating by the same principle of the Jihad when I alienate someone or condemn them in my heart just because their lifestyle is not in conformity to my personal standard of morality?

“Nigerians are unrepentant sinners”....can someone please remind Mr Unknown Assailant of where he’s from.

'No Good Thing'

“For the LORD God is our sun and our shield.
He gives us grace and glory.
The LORD will withhold no good thing
from those who do what is right.”

Psalm 84:11 (New Living Translation)

This was the verse of the Bible that got me thinking this morning.

The second half of it particularly caught my attention: “The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right.”
‘But there are a lot of good poor people now!’ I thought.

And then I immediately saw what my problem was. I have defined ‘good thing’ by everything material.

My mind automatically produced images of a beautiful seaside home, fast cars, a wardrobe Victoria Beckham would beg me to employ her as my personal maid just so she can drool at, and loads of champagne to celebrate the good life daily.




Looks good doesn’t it? But what about great health, is that not a ‘good thing’?

How about peace? Or joy? Or rest? Are they not all ‘good things’?

Aren’t honor, wisdom, knowledge, dignity of self, and a good name all ‘good things’?

What about the air I breathe, the fact that I sleep, and the assurance of Life? Can these not be qualified as ‘good things’?

“The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right.”

Hmmmnn…I guess my challenge now is to be among ‘those’ who know what is right and do it.

At the end of the day, it’s all still up to me. Yet I ask; why is doing right so difficult most times?

And they say True Love doesn't exist...

I listened to a young woman tell her story recently:

Her husband’s kidney’s failed and he needed a transplant. All his siblings and his Mum who were a match could not give him one of theirs. His sisters couldn’t give him because their husbands wouldn’t allow them, and his Mum couldn’t because a history of heart problems or hypertension made her ineligible.

So his wife, who was telling the story, promptly asked if she was a match, got tested and immediately offered to donate one of her kidneys to her husband as soon as she discovered she was.

The procedure for kidney transplants is a very delicate one and both donor and donoree can lose their lives in the process. In fact she had to sign multiple forms that confirmed that she was doing this of her own free will should she lose her life. Even her parents had to sign consent forms.

When asked the big question ‘WHY’ she did it, the lady gave a very simple answer: “My husband needed a kidney or he would die; I was a match; I didn’t even think about it beyond that.”



This woman was ready to give her life….sorry…..has given her life for her husband, because there is still major risk in living with only one kidney!!

The question I kept asking myself, apart from if I’d do it if I were in her shoes, was this: What if this man starts treating her bad or wants to divorce her in the future, would she regret her decision then?

There was the story last year about a New York doctor who sued his estranged wife, asking her to return the kidney he donated to her while they were married, until she allegedly had an affair.


Dr Richard Batista and Wife


I mean it’s a heroic gesture to give your kidney or any other vital part of yourself to someone you love, but I guess the test of the unconditional nature of the ‘love’ that prompts one to give so much, comes when there is a failure of the other party to meet one or all of your expectations of the giver.

All I could do after I listened to that woman tell her story was pray that God will give her the grace, so that regardless of whatever her husband does or does not do for her in future, she will not regret her decision.

We all have said or been told “I love you” at one time or the other, but the mark of true love is to give of oneself generously and expect NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING in return.

God help us.

Abdulmutallab: The Other Side to It

Once upon a time in my life, I might have carried a suicide bomb. Fortunately no-one asked me to.

I had just given my life to Jesus Christ and I was absolutely in love with Him. I was in University then and I remember really great times when I would skip happily along the road all by myself, singing and laughing with my new-found love.

My gang of back benchers in class always used to tease me about a secret boyfriend I had who I would always rush home to rather than hang out with them for drinks or other extra-curricular activities after classes.

Truth was I just used to rush home to go and lock myself up in my room to spend quality time with the Lord. I loved Him with everything that I had and couldn’t imagine any moment not spent with Him.

During that period, I started going to a church around my house. Because of my insatiable hunger for anything even remotely God-related, I absorbed everything I was told in church, hook, line and fish itself.

Even some of the rather questionable doctrines such as females not wearing trousers, and others I really can’t remember right now, were not a problem for me. I just accepted everything I was told believing that it’s what God Himself wants…..who am I to do differently?

I stopped hanging out with my friends, stopped going for parties or to the clubs, stopped drinking and smoking (well, although that was for the best) didn’t even want to have anything to do with the opposite sex (hmmnn…might just begin reconsidering that one again), in truth, really just stopped being me.

I became a clone; a robot….just another human being’s idea of who or what a ‘Christian’ should be. I call those days my days of being Institutionalised.

I thank God for saving me from that. All I really wanted at the time was to be right by God and I thought… believed that was the way.

I was Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab.

“I have no friend. Not because I do not socialise, etc but because either people do not want to get too close to me as they go partying and stuff while I don’t, or they are bad people who befriend me and influence me to do bad things.”

That was one of Farouk’s posts on an Islamic social networking site. I completely understand what he was feeling because I remember feeling the same way at that point in my life. I would watch my friends going out to have fun and condemn them in my heart for their lifestyle, but honestly I was really just envious of them because they could have fun and I couldn’t.

I totally condemn Farouk's act of terrorism; however, I identify with him as a human being.


Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab

Abdulmuttalab is just a regular Naija boy who wanted to do right. People who knew better than him took advantage of his naivety and desire to please God, and used him as the sacrificial lamb in the execution of their selfish schemes.

Let’s not crucify him for that.

How to Get a Strong Signal on God's Network

‘Tari Ekiyor is wondering what life would have been like if I was trying to get through to God and there was network problem! Chai!!’

Tari’s Facebook Status: 30th December 2009

It does seem sometimes as though no matter how hard and frequently we pray, we are not getting through to God. It feels as though He either can’t hear us or has just chosen to ignore our desperate cries for help.

As British pop singer, Robbie Williams succinctly put it in his 2002 classic ‘Feel’, …”I sit and talk to God, but He just laughs at my plans”, sometimes it really does seem as if life is God’s big joke at our expense.

In response to a Facebook friend’s comment to my status in which she stated that it sometimes feels as though there is network problem in getting through to God, I acknowledged that it most likely is because we are in a place of bad reception.

God is. He doesn’t change; He doesn’t take vacations; He doesn’t sleep.

We on the other hand, are prone to fear, anxiety, distress, discouragement, doubt, and all other things that keep our focus on everything but God Himself.

A place of good Reception in which we can effectively communicate with God, is that place of absolute quiet and complete trust in Him.

“… in quietness and trust is your strength”

The strongest signal from God comes when we lay all of our worries, fears, doubts and fix-it solutions at His feet and rely on His strength alone to get us through the storms of life.

This Bible Verse which has helped me through many, many troubles (which most times I cause for myself) states, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God; and the peace of God which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus”

This verse calls on us to exchange our doubts, worries, fears and ideas for the Peace that only God can give.

Aaaahhh perfect Peace!! There is nothing, absolutely nothing like it.

Have a Peace-filled 2010.

1st Bible verse: Isaiah 30:15
2nd Bible verse: Philippians 4:6,7

The 'Na Wa O' Blessing

“Na wa o” is a term that I’m certain every Nigerian and wanna be Nigerian has used at least 10times in their lifetime.

It is a Pidgin English exclamation that is used to express awe and disbelief. It is the most likely term of expression a Nigerian would use when he/she is overwhelmed by something, either in a positive or negative way.

The most recent ‘Na wa o’ I heard was earlier today when a guy I know used it.

Sunday is a Security Guard at my office. He is the best of the entire team and also the youngest. His excellent service was rewarded recently by the Company he works for as he was made Supervisor over all his other much older and experienced colleagues.

What sets Sunday apart from the rest is simply his attitude to the job.

He acts as though being a Security guard is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He is polite, courteous, friendly and helpful to all who he is opportune to interact with.

He runs like the Tasmanian devil is after him, to switch on the generators when there is a power cut, so that we who are in our offices don’t even notice that the power is out.

Sunday, is generally a great guy and the second best Security guard I know. The first still remains our guard at home (will tell you about him another time).

So this morning, Sunday received a surprise gift from an unlikely source. He really wasn’t expecting what he was given and from his reaction it was obvious that it couldn’t have come at a better time.

Sunday was visibly shaken; obviously overwhelmed by what he’d just been given and all he could repeatedly utter was….”Ah…Na Wa O!!!”

My prayer for you in this New Year is that God will do so many great and wonderful things in your life that will overwhelm you so much that all you’d be able to say is “NA WA OOOOOOOOOO!!”

May nothing happen to cause you to use the term to convey any negative feelings. Amen.