Gidi thinz... Good news palava

It’s a fresh morning peops. I’m live at the roof top here on the Mainland. I’m all alone save for another nerd (sorry, member) I just met by the name of Tunde :-) who’s locked up in a corner doing his thing. But then, it’s not quiet! Yeah, it’s mainland Lagos like I mentioned so I can still hear vividly the honking sounds from vehicles down the road. Anyways, this suffices for me in that I don’t have anyone peering over my shoulders thus distracting me from doing my thing. Today’s pretty much light in terms of work as I intend to continue with my character rig and possibly do a comp or two. Before then though, a bit of what’s been playing out on my mind in terms of my trip down here. First, Lagos never fails to amaze people like me in terms of its many dramas. It’s so much that there just doesn’t seem to be an end in sight to its drama come rain or shine. Interesting in a sense if you ask me given it can serve an open ended flow of contents for daily write-ups if one were to venture for a dedicated column in say a newspaper. I kinda want a piece of the foregoing action but time will tell.

So, you’ve heard it said many times before, “how are the mighty fallen”. Well, what’s hardly ever said (in my view) is “How are the weak oppressed”; ironic maybe. But then, my trip here bore hallmarks of the latter. Sandwiched between two heavy mamas in the popular Keke NAPEP tricycle, I felt oppressed. More so, cos’ the ladies to my left and right seemed to care less about my existence let alone my comfort. Yet, I was paying the same fare as both of them. Guess what, the driver (or rider) also shared his seat with another ‘mama’ all for the sake of the naira. Still on the issue, for a vehicle that’s far from able to withstand too much weight, we were at risk in a sense. Well, the weather was great so we were spared the risk of a real test to say the least. Well, that was one part of the drama that ended in Oyingbo. Next up was the danfo bus to Sabo. First, the lady next to me was reluctant to budge in her seat as she was in communion with God as it turned out when I saw her fiddling with her Rosary (Bless You Lord :-)). She didn’t have to say anything as her attitude already did the talking. “wait make I finish”, it said. As is often the case in such dramas, I retorted mentally, “for your papa car abi?” Well, that was in the abstract so in the physical, I simply asked again gently. The smart she knew enough to budge then knowing full well the naira savvy driver or conductor wouldn’t be anything close to nice if they had to intervene. She was obviously standing in line of the next meal ticket which is punishable by jungle laws as we have in Lagos with insults and rude remarks. Well, minutes later, the bus moved from its spot and the short trip to Sabo began. Hardly had we negotiated the closest bend when a female passenger yelled the popular cliché, “Praise the Lord!” While I don’t remember hearing any response, she called for a short prayer before beginning her sermon. And then the drama...minutes into the Good News that we’re all too familiar with, the driver turned on his stereo with an Islamic Gospel song. Gengen! He turned up the volume so much that it all but drowned off the female evangelist’s voice. Raising hers, the competition heated up with the former vociferously hammering on the need to accept the Good News for a life of eternal bliss somewhere up above. The passenger seated close to the driver called for restraint asking the driver if he meant to start a competition. To that he responded that he was only doing his own thing and not necessarily out to witch-hunt the Christian evangelist. Now, the interesting thing for me was how this would have been perceived if it were an exchange that occurred up North. In fact, relay this event to the average Nigerian down South here and the response would be something close to a blind allusion of the drama to radical Northerners. But right here before our very eyes, elements of religious extremism seemed to be rearing their heads. Okay, so it may seem like I’m making allusions myself but I’ve spent time quite some time here to know what I’m talking about in terms of the people’s mindset.

In the end, whose side was I on? On one hand, I’m usually not won over by the messengers of these cliched mesages partly cos’ I know the long and short of it. Two, I’m not particularly interested in what lies outside of here. Rather, I seek my own heaven in living a fulfilling life here on earth. And guess what, if there so happens to be that life of eternal bliss beyond here then I should qualify given I try as much as possible to live right in moral principles. Anyways, I happened to prefer the Islamic track that was playing as it was one I’d long been seeking. It’s been a hit sort of for some time now (you know it’s one when you hear it across bus garages from Lagos to Ibaban) and I’d long looked for a way of getting the artist/album title. Great voicing with a kinda auto-tune effect made it one I loved. True, I care less about its contents hardly even making out what she sings about even though it’s in Yoruba. The driver was all too glad to hand me the CD jacket when I asked for it. In his mind, he’d won over a disciple I guess. If he only he knew where I stood in respect of such matters. To cap this up, she’s (artist) “Ameerat Ameenat Ajao” by name and the album’s entitled “Obi rere” which translates to Good parents. I’ll get it soon.