Bwari, My Bwari (1)

Usuma Dam ( My favourite place around here )

Stella Obasanjo Child Care Trust (only street without a pothole in Bwari)

Nigerian Law School Entrance ( U like?)

Bwari Supermarket (apologies if you were expecting something like Amigos or Shoprite)

HERO !

I am currently writing a business plan and the business plan guide I am using has a self- assessment section. One of the questions it asks is Describe yourself in one word?. I cant find the right word and so I walk into the kitchen and say “Mummy, describe me in one word apart from CHARMING”.

My mum laughs out loud. She must be clearly overwhelmed by my charm. I move over to my Dad who is in a completely different part of the house and rephrase the question to “Describe me in one word”? His response was CHARMING. Phew! Even obvious to the blind. My mum joins us later and tells me I am “humble but arrogant”. "Its not your place to say you are charming", she says. First of all Mother, (notice the rapid slide from Mummy to Mum to Mother), that your description is a paradox and it is 3 words. Secondly, I was stating a fact. How about pleasant? My father concurs. My mum disagrees. "You are only pleasant to people you like, I see you more as focused than anything else".

You will be wrong for thinking only these positive words are used to describe me. Other terms like "reclusive bastard”, “weird”, “under G”, “anti social”, “bloody wanker” , “nuisance” have been thrown in for good measure and used to describe me. It really depends on who you speak to. Yet, all I ever wanted to be was a HERO. In primary school, I got my friends and foes to make up a song for me. Every time I walked into class, I was hailed with this chant, “Bwari Boy! Bwari Boy!The Hulk Hogan”. Then my head will swell to the point of bursting. Then I fell in love. At least I was convinced it was love. I wanted to be her HERO.

After summoning the courage to speak to her, she gave me a unique response. Not the usual “YOU ARE NOT MY TYPE” or “I WILL THINK ABOUT IT” that Nigerian girls famously gave in those days. She said "you are nice but I like guys with a bit of meat". I am convinced that she had no clue what this meant but was only re-echoing something she heard on tv or heard from her older sisters. Nonetheless, I was not deterred.

YOU WANT MEAT BABY, I WILL GIVE YOU MEAT. I heard some adults say that drinking coke daily will make you fat. So I started drinking coke daily. I begged, borrowed and stole so I could have my daily dose of coke and okin biscuit. After a while, I still wasn’t Schwarzenegger so I upgraded to maltina which I heard made you fat too. My dressing changed as well. I started wearing more sleeveless tops and basketball jerseys so my lover could see my exquisite muscles (think Popeye). I look back now and I laugh. Ah! The things we do for the approval of others. Not sure whether it was peer pressure, insecurity or sheer stupidity but I was a victim and 1st class people pleaser.

As I grew older, I realised my ambition to be a HERO was just a fantasy but somehow I reconnected with another HERO. Then I became a recipient of unconditional love. I became remarkably self assured. It didn’t really matter what people thought anymore. Then I became free. Free to be me and boy! Did I push the freedom envelope. I became less materialistic and it did not matter if I bought my clothes from Tejuosho Market, Carrefour or Asda. As long as I wasn’t naked, I was pleased.

My Hero is called the father of the fatherless, friend to the poor, merciful one, Prince of peace or Saviour of the world. His name is JESUS. I am not attempting to preach here nor present myself as holier than thou. A couple of days ago, My mum was complaining about the kind of music I listen to. She had a point. I cant explain why my most played artists are Tupac and Joe ( its All that I am and not All the things your man wont do o!). Lets not even talk about my jamaican dancehall collection. I guess I am still work in progress. Neither is every experience with Christ pleasant. On good Friday, I was told about the death of a family friend’s son who was too young to go. Over the weekend, the man who I was hoping would be the professional consultant for the very business I am planning for had a heart attack and died. I had read his interviews and watched him on tv. He was a young achiever, so full of promise, so full of life. Yet it was cut short. My easter was just there from then on.

Nonetheless, the Easter story is a wonderful one. Its the story of a loving God who never gave up. His love never gave up. His love never looks back and his love never dies. I write to express my appreciation for the gift of love and the joy and peace that he has given me. Its belated but ...... Happy Easter!