ROUGH, RAW AND RIGHT…the musings of a Christian brother working and living in Lagos!

ROUGH, RAW AND RIGHT…the musings of a Christian brother working and living in Lagos!
EPISODE 2


 ....I like talking and getting paid and not talk and get owed like Nigerians want you to do......

And indeed I had a call, and indeed it was a business call. Someone was having a wedding and I was asked me to anchor the reception programme.  I guess I need to introduce myself here before a mix up creates itself. I love talking and getting paid (well paid) for it. Although many people think I just love talking for fun. I guess that alone gives you an idea of my Igbotic nature. And my Yoruba nature makes me like the idea of closing up with those that are willing to share the money and my Hausa nature affords me the grace to want to be on top forever. Call me a Nigerian chauvinist and you will be totally right! I love my country; I no go lie, na inside am I go live and live!
I like talking and getting paid and not talk and get owed like Nigerians want you to do. Some do not even think it is worth paying for with the silly thought that they can also do it. And if na so, I would prefer you go hand over the mic that your graduate son/daughter/siblibng/neighbor/church member to anchor your next event and see how easy it is. This part of the world, people regard the arts as cheaply GOD's gift or a way out for jobless people. Until financial level started started climbing the elevator for musicians, actors, footballers and even pastors! Very few considered the arts as worthy of the coins or effort (I rest my case).

..And if na so, I would prefer you go hand over the mic that your graduate son/daughter/siblibng/neighbor/church member to anchor your next event and see how easy it is.....

Hence, the MC thing is a veritable source of money if you know your onions. Call it a good source of income and I would say yes but when you call it a good source of living and I would say OYO (On Your Own). Anyway, the call I got wasn't from the couple getting married that called. It was the mother of the groom to be. She sounded like one of those learned over 70-years old women but still agile.
"I want you to anchor my son's wedding the way you did it at Mrs. Sososo son's wedding. They said that you collected sososo amount".
"They? Who are they ma?", I asked. I knew what she was talking about but was shocked that Mrs Sososo could go ahead to tell them that I actually received that amount of money from her as my fees! Dear reader, you don't want to know how much this amount is because you might decide to suggest going to get my head washed at one of the shrines for good luck...sorry not good luck this time (because we already have an idea of what good luck could also mean) but
Success. I had received the said sososo amount because the mother of the groom of that wedding was actually the sister of one of my pastors in my former church whom I have a lot of regard for. And apart from that, I felt I owed the man the honour.
Anyway, I objected and told the Mama calmly that the said fee wasn't a fee but a gesture from the woman. The Mama insisted I should do same while also calling on my ancestors, her ancestors and the host of heaven to bless me and prosper my business...I switched off my phone immediately to come back to writing you. That's Nigeria for you. Business is never business until you are considered ruthless, rude, and arrogant and some other things people see as disrespectful.

Anyway, this morning as usual, as I got out of the house which entails searching for the keys from the bunch I have with me of 4 different doors, opening and closing them all, I realised that my Phone which in the past few years has become my personal assistant wasn't with me; I must have left it in my room. I gave a crazy expression and hit my forehead with my palm saying to myself "not today, not today".
I had a meeting with one of these big men who have penchants for time like I do. I would have to search for the keys of each door again, open and close them and get into my bathroom to get my phone and undertake same routine to get back toi the gate. This process takes about 10 minutes. I felt like crying. I immediately hated the Power Company, the state also for the insecure nature of the country that caused me to have to undergo the security measures of having to go through 4 doors to get into my flat. That's how frustrated I was. It was about 5am and pretty dark. And so I made to go open the doors. And just as I was searching for the first key from the bunch, I heard a voice, a young man's voice advising me to not turn around.
"Don't turn around or else I will blow your head to pieces"
Pieces? My head?...PLEASE HOLD ON, MY PHONE IS RINGING AGAIN

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