The ram I ate last Sallah!

What a shock! I woke in the morning to see two rams tied to the exit door close to my room. Their meal on a tray beside them, pooh everywhere and the distinct ram smell...ewhh! I felt so disgusted! Surprisingly, the next thing I thought of was...a picture!!! (in an excited tone). I dashed back into my room, rushed for my camera and gave them a snap shot. Nice!

I stayed in for a while and came out when my I heard my face-me neighbor's voice. Then I asked him who put the rams there and he said it was the landlady but he would remove them tomorrow. Tomowhat! I replied sharply. How can you leave these rams here for the whole day. Do you want me to die of some disease or something. Look at how they have littered the whole place and they are smelling. Nooo I cannot take this! Please tie them outside or in front of her room, not here, no!
He just stared at me and smiled. I asked him why he was smiling and he just called me a butty as in ajebutter. I ignored his comment and begged him to do as I requested. Thankfully, he did and I was happy.
To cut the long story short, the ram was killed the following day and I ate it. My landlady was so generous. I was given a bowl of amala with correct ewedu soup and a bowl of  rice...with big pieces of ram meat of course.  
This last year happened while I serving in Ibadan. You can imagine how happy a corper would be!
Come to think of it, are those not goats? 

In your choices, BE YOURSELF!

I used to think this high-school-envy-thingy that some girls have against their counterparts fades with maturity. You know when girls just get green with envy because you outshine them in your dressing, hair-do, the way you speak, your attitude or just because you get more attention they do. I never knew some ladies even exhibit it even more as they age. 

How can a lady make it her point of duty to monitor her fellow lady like she was paparazzi for obviously jealous reasons? So bad that she can recite the clothes, shoes and make up her counterpart has worn in the past. Such a lady is easily threatened by anyone who outshines or intimidates her. That person becomes her rival/target and she would stop at nothing to bring her rival/target down. That person becomes her favourite topic, her favourite hobby, her business, and her favourite reality TV show.

Stacey voiced her anger,

“She told me my clothes are bitchy and my skirts are short and tight, but when I told her I also wear them to church she said they were not. She told me to stop wearing a particular pair of shoes but couldn’t give me reasons why. But after I pressed on, she said she felt they didn’t go with a particular outfit (Was that enough reason?).  When I asked her what her point was (because she wasn’t making sense to me), she cited an example of herself not dressing up, not brushing her hair and not wearing earrings to work. She started explaining to me that she also had beautiful clothes even if I didn’t ask her. She went further to explain that she doesn’t care how she looks at work and told me stories of how those who knew her got shocked when they saw her at work because she didn't look as good as she looked during the weekends. Am I supposed to emulate that? How is that supposed to be my business? I am me and can never be her, so why the comparison? Your employer paid you to look good, that is why you have a wardrobe allowance. She kept on saying she was advising me because she is my friend. To me, she was speaking gibberish because she kept going back and forth like she was confused. I asked her to state her point and she told me to dress down. Then I replied, “dress down from what?” She just kept staring at me. I asked her if I was too flashy, she said no. If I was too attractive, she said no. So what was her point? By the way, who gave her the right to call me her friend when she is not even qualified to be called my frenemy? I am not implying that she is my enemy because I have not considered it important to classify her plus I don't have the time. She is just a routine. If she expects me to change who I am because of the disorganised pack of words that poured out of her food and voice organ, then she must be the greatest joker in town.”

To all Staceys out there:

In anything that concerns you and your life, you should have the last but one say (next to God who has the final say). Never be a slave to the opinions of others. The worst task you can embark on is trying to please others because you will definitely fail. You can never please everyone as humans can never be satisfied.  Don't do because others are doing; you have a mind of your own. Don't follow follow or copy copy like the lay man would say. Exercise your freewill and creativity and be proud of who you are. Even identical twins are not a 100percent identical.

Also, know your frenemies. They pretend to be your friends but are happy to see you fall. They laugh with you in front of you but at you behind your back. Do not be fooled by their fakes smiles and gestures. Never take their words to heart. Remember, 'sticks and stones...' They find it difficult to pay you a genuine compliment but are too quick to criticise you. They are just part of your usual pattern of activities because circumstances bring you guys together. If you had your way, your paths would not cross. They could be your classmates, course mates, colleagues, roommates, even relatives... they come in different ways.

Lastly, if you go to a restaurant with your friends and you feel like taking swallow don’t take chips because your friends are going for it. It is your money and your tummy! You want to buy a car and you have budgeted for it, but your friends or colleagues are making fun of your choice. Do not bow down to their pressure, cut your cloth according to your cloth. They won’t give you the money, would they? You want to enroll your child in a decent private school on the mainland and you and your spouse have drawn plans. Your colleagues have their kids enrolled in much more expensive schools on the Island and are trying to persuade you to do the same. Don’t feel bad about the choice you have made. The expensive fees, the beauty or area of the school does not guarantee quality education. Don’t live above your means because you are trying to please.

No matter what choice you make, people will always talk and it is normal. Tuface has rightly said it, "if nobody talks about you, then you are nobody." So in whatever choice you make from now on (minor or major), be yourself, because in the end it falls back on you! Your uniqueness, your self esteem, your happiness and your satisfaction are at stake each time you compromise yourself. Use your head and your heart. You are unique and different; so are your choices.  

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What doesn't kill you will either make or mar you.

We generally say, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" but I think it is more accurate to say, "what doesn't kill you will either make or mar you".

I had been having this inner battle comparing my life now with what I wished it were. God has put me in a position to serve which takes a lot from me. Constantly putting my feelings aside and putting others first isn’t easy. I have not been having enough time for myself. I procrastinate more often than before because I either have to go for a training or I'm just too tired. Also, I have not been able to do those activities I derive pleasure from. Activities such as watching movies at home or at the cinemas, attending weddings and other social events, visiting friends, social networking, reading and so forth. Even writing has been a challenge. My book of to-dos is so full with unaccomplished tasks that sometimes I get scared to peruse it so I don't feel sad, and I still keep adding. Worse is, it affected my feeding habit and ultimately my health.

Eating to me used to be something I did whenever I felt like. I had no timetable or routine. I ate anything I liked whenever I liked. I could take chocolates with a drink first thing in the morning. I hardly felt hungry and ate in small quantities. Three slices of bread with butter and a small cup of tea could be enough for me from 9am to 4pm, then at 4pm a few tablespoons of rice would do. While at night, a little cup of tea would be enough to satisfy me.

This got worse when work got involved. I got so engrossed in serving others that I paid little attention to my appetite. The consequence of this was I ate less frequently and in smaller quantities because by the time I was ready to eat, I would be so tired that I would not have the strength to eat much. Fatigue always took over my appetite.

At the end of the day, I would feel like someone who carried kponkpon and during the weekend I would feel extremely drained. It got to a point I thought I was losing it. I became overly sensitive. I didn’t feel appreciated anymore and it deteriorated to a point that it showed in my apperance and attitude. I stopped dressing as flashy as I used to. I stopped making up altogether and there was even a period I did not make my hair for about four weeks. That was my way of rebelling. I had this attitude of ‘you wanna have me, take all of me, in short, kill me!’ When asked why I didn’t use make up, I would harshly reply ‘will you people allow me? Do you care?’ I became blind to God's blessings and the great opportunities that came my way. I even met the likes of John Dumelo, Ara, the famous sango actor and didn't recognise them.

Back to my feeding habit, I continued in the same pattern as aforementioned till it almost cost me my life because I was giving out more energy than I was taking in. Click this link for the story http://frediliadtruthuncensored.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-am-way-too-vip-to-be-rip.html  
I vividly remember the doctor’s stern warning when he discovered my PVC was low as he advised me to increase my food intake and never miss a meal. The doctor’s wife (the nurse) also advised me like an old friend. She told me encouraging personal stories (that touched me) of her struggles in becoming a successful and fulfilled nurse (even though it was not what she wanted to become initially) and how the struggle still continues.

After this encounter, like an epiphany, I realised that I  had the wrong attitude and approach to the phase I was passing through. Instead of asking God to open my eyes to His will and asking for the grace to fulfill His will, I was busy giving myself unnecessary headaches by asking questions whose answers I probably would not fully comprehend. I was acting like Ezra in the bible when he was asking God why Isreal had to suffer or like the Isrealites in the wilderness complaining to God and Moses whenever they faced any challenge instead trusting God to take control.

I have come to realise that my complaining and rebellious attitude only made things worse. It made me waste useful energy on unhealthy and unproductive thoughts. Now whether I am hungry or not, or whether I have urgent work to do, I must eat when it is time. Sometimes while eating I breathe heavily in my effort to finish up my food when I feel full. At that moment, eating is not pleasure but more or less a punishment.  However, since it is for the best, I bear it with all pleasure.

As I write, I am a transformed being and I see life with a whole new pair of glasses. Serving others is the most fulfilling task in the entire universe; it doesn't matter how you do it. As long as you are making others happy or solving problems, you are doing a great job.

The encounter/phase is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. It didn’t kill me (not my ghost blogging), it almost marred me but didn’t, so I believe (by the special grace of God) I AM MADE. 





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The Nigerian painting that made the Guinness World Records

Ecole de Dessin meaning “School of Art” in french, put Nigeria in the world map by unveiling the largest painting by numbers in Lagos State, Nigeria, on 17 November 2010 in celebration of Guinness World Records Day 2010. 

The painting by numbers measures 3,130.55 m² (33,696 ft² 138.2 in²) and was created by 350 volunteers. The painting represents the map of Nigeria, the logo of 350.org in the middle of the map, the flag of Nigeria (green, white, green) which was painted around the map.This same painting has been featured conspicuously in the 2011, 2012 and the 2013 Guinness World Records Books.
http://ecolededessin.org/guinness-world-records-for-largest-painting/

They are inviting you all to view this masterpiece that made history.

This iconic painting would be on exhibition at the Methodist Boys High School, Victoria Island from the 10th of October to the 12th of October 2012 starting from 2pm.

Also there would be a Press Conference which holds on the 12th of October 2012 at 4pm. In attendance will be the Governor of Lagos State, top Government Functionaries and other esteemed dignitaries.

Their mission is to create a platform through which Nigerian Art Students can contribute to the development of the country, and also where art can be used as a tool to positively affect lives.

Here's a picture of the painting that made the Guinness World Records Books.

The event is in partnership with the Lagos State Government.

To know more about Ecole de Dessin, feel free to visit their website www.ecolededessin.org





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October 1st Nigeria is 52! This is what I have to say!

This is not a blog post, it is just me talking to myself-so please pardon any errors. You can call it a soliloquy or monologue, even trilogue-me, myself and I. I should have posted this earlier but PHCN decided that today of all days, they would not supply my community with power till late this evening. Anyway, yesterday I wasn't really feeling myself. No enthusiasm, no motivation, no will-power, nothing...just little me playing with my phone and with my ear piece plugged into my ears listening to some Enya and Yanni music.

I was having my dinner when I saw something on a popular TV station about Nigeria being 52...yada yada yada...tune in at 7am. My aunt actually brought my attention to it when she said, "na who dey want make e wake at that time pscheww?" I laughed and agreed in silence. I also thought to myself, even if one decides to wake up to watch/listen, will there be power supply? 

In the Twitter mood, I tweeted about it.

@yincah tomorrow is for sleeping, not excited at all. A station showing Nig @ 52 7am. Who r dey expectin to b awake @dat tym? PHCN go gree?  and my friend replied

@frediliamomodu fredilia is vexing

which I replied back

@yincah Vexing ke. I get tym! I'm even enjoyin a plate of peppersoup with catfish and turkey. 

After some time on Twitter, I went into a shallow trance, swimming in thoughts of how life would have been if Nigeria was a land where the dreams of children and youths were not frustrated. I watch American films and hear Americans talk about the American dream; but I hardly hear of the Nigerian dream. Please if you do, let me know. Maybe that is too ambiguous, let me rephrase. What is my dream as a person and how can Nigeria make it happen? Nigeria hmmm...(screaming in my mind) Nigeria how can you make my dreams happen? JAMB question abi! 

If Nigeria were one person, these are what I would ask her (like a mother scolding her child): 

Why did you allow me spend 3years doing JAMB without admission? It is not as if I was not passing. 

Why did you pressure me to choose Chemistry all because I wanted to gain admission? Lack of proper counselling.
Why don't you ensure that there are career counselling centres in secondary schools to give our young ones a sense of direction before choosing a course of study in the university?

Why is it that schools are all about books at the expense of a child's natural abilities? I was good at speaking, writing, drawing and performing arts but who cared. 

Why are  graduates working in places where their talents and education don't fit just because they want to make a living? 
Why do we import virtually everything when God has blessed Nigeria with numerous natural resources?
Why can't we have stable power supply after 52 years? A piece of advise: you don't need to change the name again, PHCN=NEPA.
Why is corruption the order of the day amongst those who are supposed to be our leaders? They accumulate wealth at the expense of the people and still get national awards.
Why do perpetrators of evil go scot-free?
Why do the Rich keep getting richer and the Poor poorer?  

Why do our parents and grandparents say you were better in their time? What has happened to you Nigeria? What has happened to you o?
I am positive we all have our different answers to these questions. 

What can man or woman do? I thank God for our flexible and resilient nature, because anywhichway, we must make things work for us. That is why we are Nigerians!

I woke this morning and thought of the president's speech came to mind. I looked at my clock it was 8am. I checked, no light. Then I remembered the past gifts (fuel subsidy, renaming Unilag, my Alma mater) GEJ surprised us with and said to myself, "hope he doesn't give us a gift this time."     
Talk never finish but I wan stop...as a sign of respect 

Happy Independence Nigeria!
... I still love you. 

I am way too VIP to be RIP!

Maybe I could have been in the emergency room crying (that's if I had the strength to or if I would be even conscious) asking God why He let it happen; or maybe I would have been talking to Him face to face explaining to Him how I made the most of the life He gave to me. Maybe you guys would have been cursing and swearing for my sake, and tweeting RIP tweets @frediliamomodu. Well, Glory be to our forever awesome God, the story is the opposite. 

 On Monday morning, I felt weak and drowsy. It was like the weight of the whole world was placed on my shoulders; I wanted to collapse. I managed to attend to an elderly man who had issues with the ATM. After attending to him as best as I could, he showered me with prayers and he said and I quote, "this week is your week of favours. God will shower you with favours". I said Amen in a low voice and smiled at him as he made his way out of the bank. As myopic and selfish as my mind was, I thought of another job with a mouth watery salary and loads of time for me to do the things I love.

A few minutes later, my stomach started hurting real bad and all the strength in me vanished into space. I went into the store and cried like a child. With the help of my colleagues, the secretary wrote me a letter to go a particular private hospital. I couldn't go by myself so a driver took me there. By then, I was groaning in pains, my temperature began to rise and I began to shiver. Different tests were carried out on me and I was found to be positive for malaria. As an AA and O+ person, I hardly have malaria, but when I do, it's dead serious. I was to prepare for a scan too by drinking lots of water till I felt pressed to use the rest room. 

It was more or less a torment because I was still hurting in my stomach, I was very weak and drinking water just made me feel nauseated. The nurses kept asking me if I wanted to urinate and I kept telling them I didn't know. I had lost total control of my entire body; I didn't know what I felt anymore. I just wanted to do scan and get it over with. In a mixture of pain and frustration, I continued to drink warm water from the dispenser. The nurses and other patients stared at me waiting for me to say I was ready for the scan. I bowed down to the pressure from their piercing eyes and announced that I was ready for the scan. Just for the record, the lady who went in for her scan before I did mine congratulated me thinking I was pregnant. 

When the doctor started the scan, the first thing she said was, "your bladder is too full! I can't see anything, please go and urinate a little!" I obeyed like a timid kitten and wondered why I did not feel pressed. The only thing I could feel was the  pain I was going through. After I eased myself a bit, she did a successful scan, and from the scan, I was perfect. She told me to completely empty my bladder and did some physical examinations on me. After everything, I was diagnosed of appendicitis and an operation was recommended. After a brief talk and phone calls to the surgeon, the time for operation was scheduled because she claimed it was urgent. I was just staring at the two doctors telling me that I needed to do an operation. 

After the consultation, I called the driver to pick me up. I was given just paracetamol to ease the pains. I had taken only oats without milk and sugar the whole day. I was famished and fatigued. This was about 5hours after I got to the hospital. When I got to the office, I told my colleagues and my boss about my encounter and they advised me to get a second opinion from another doctor.

I did that and glory to God, ain't no knife passing through this lovely tummy of mine. Met with my family doctor, an experienced doctor at that. He did a thorough check up on me. Any operation whatsoever could have killed me, because I had acute malaria and my PCV was low. (God will let none of us die before our time...)
Come to think of it...didn't the hospital didn't think it fit to treat me first so I would be in a better shape for the operation? They were just interested in cutting me open and getting my money from the fat bill they would write. How can you operate someone who has acute malaria and is short of blood? What the fuck and hell were they thinking?  I don't even have enough strength to waste on being angry.

Even though I spent the last week shuttling between the hospital and my home, I just thank God for everything. I was given proper treatment in forms of drips, injections, drugs and a proper diet. I can now sing, tweet, blog, smile, talk, run a little and do the things I could not do few days back. 

I now remember that elderly man's prayers and smile. God is forever good.





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