Your time in university is one of the most fun periods in your life – to start with, you finally leave home.
In the four or five years there, you will make new friends and do things on your own terms for the first time in your life.
But nothing prepares you for the switch-up that happens when you get to final year.
All of a sudden, nobody wants to flex anymore. Even your most playful friends are suddenly serious. It just feels like life increased the difficulty level to “Very Hard”.
Take it from someone who knows. Your final year in University is the first year of the rest of your life.
After years of evading it, you finally have to confront the thought of what comes after school. Getting through university is no longer the focus, you now have to decide what comes next and what you intend with the rest of your life. Congratulations, shit just got real.
Everyone expects you to have a plan for your future.
Every single person in your life, from the OPC guy at the end of your street to the Ibadan uncle who has no intention of helping you, will ask you questions like ‘Where do you want to work?’ ‘Do you want to do your masters?’
Nobody cares if you’re still thinking. This life is really just a pressure-cooker and guess what? Someone just turned the power on and poured jollof rice ingredients on your head.
It’s when all your hens come home to roost.
It’s one long year of living with all the decisions you’ve made through the last three or four years. Remember that time you skipped a test to go on a road trip? That’s why your CGPA looks like it needs a blood transfusion.
In the immortal words of J.Cole, “choose wisely”.
You will work your ass off in final year.
From projects and trying to boost your CGPA, to trying to maintain and build important relationships for the world outside, your finals will be pure, undiluted stressss. Be prepared.
If your parents are like mine, final year is when they’ll first tease you with independence.
You may first notice it when you ask for 10,000 naira and they send you 8,000 because life is hard and it just is what it is. If you think that’s cruel, wait till you start collecting allawee.
Final year is where friendships go to die.
As you begin to figure things out in the final months, you’ll notice that you and some friends drift apart and you don’t know why.
Most times, it’s because you have your eyes set on different paths and it’s difficult to focus on anything else. And that’s fine. Make new friends, figure your path.
But it’s not all savagery and work.
You’re in the top echelon of the school now and with that comes a special form of respect. Freshmen will look up to you like a young Pete Edochie, someone who has arrived at the final stage of an experience they’re just getting into. You have great power in your hands. Use responsibly.
Odds are you are around that time in your life and need help, like I did.
If you are, you should fill this form. No promises, but we’re here to help you figure things out.
The more I think about it, the stronger my conclusion – relationships are a scam.
Take dating for instance – that arrangement where two consenting individuals agree to care for each other in a special way and see where it goes.
To start with, it’s based on pure probability – what the hell do you mean by seeing where it goes? Plus you have to show your love, in gifts, in special nights on the town – basically, it’s expensive. Then there’s the fact that you could come to the end of a three-year-long relationship just to find out you’ve been dating yourself.
It doesn’t help that the pressure to get in relationships is real. Even if you have the confidence and poise of a young Frank Donga, people expect your university degree to come with hints of a relationship – proof that you won’t spend your life alone and become one of those dog-whisperers.
Everything changed when I took a few weeks off work in 2017.
I chose to spend my time resting at home and as Cupid would have it, I learned all the ways loneliness can kill a man. It was then that it came upon me like an epiphany brought to you by BellaNaija; why was I not seeing someone? Would I die if I started dating? Doesn’t a hot piece of cake like me deserve love too?
So I decided to get into the dating pool. And where else would I choose to date than in Lagos – the city of beautiful, independent women where you lose money every time you breathe, sneeze or take a step in any direction. The city where I’ve lived for the last 2 years and most of my life before that.
See how I set myself up? Boys and girls, gather around, I tried dating in Lagos and these are my confessions.
It is starting like this.
Can you convince someone to date you?
The last time I checked, relationships involved a minimum of two people. So the first step was obviously finding bae. I was pretty clear on what I wanted.
Four words: interesting, opinionated, not broke and fine. I stan myself, a simple man.
The problem is, nobody’s walking around Lagos with their character traits plastered on their foreheads. I had to search, something I had neither the time or money to do, so I settled for the next best option.
It’s free and depending on whether your boss can see your phone screen from his seat, you can use it at work.
Boys and girls, meet TINDER.
Except instead of love, I found women trying to sell their market.
One conversation went like this:
Me: “Hello. I’m Segun.”
Tinder Babe: “Hey. Do you want a few hours or the whole night?”
Me: “What?”
Tinder Babe: Where are you? One night is 30k and you’ll pay for my Uber.
Me: *deletes Tinder app and pleads the blood of God*
So I took my search offline.
Weeks later, I met someone who seemed a good fit at a Brymo concert, but life quickly showed me we were not in the same tax bracket so I moved on.
It took a chance meeting with a friend’s friend to find someone I actually liked. Let’s call her Sunny.
So (potential) bae found, the next obvious thing was to find out if I was being groomed by a serial killer – that thing people call ‘getting to know each other’.
I have come a long way from university and asking girls out to beer parlours. I wanted to do it right and in my hunt for a perfect date, I learned something.
You always have a point to prove.
In Lagos, people treat every date as if there’s a better option waiting for them at the door – so you’re always trying to prove you’re the right option.
I did this by planning my first date at Bungalow’s in Victoria Island.
Nothing too fancy. Just art on the walls and food that looks like it was Photoshopped. Then I saw estimates of the bill on a food review website and my brain started shaking in my head.
Basically, how you choose to prove the point is up to you.
After hours of asking for divine inspiration, it came to me; a place where the breeze is cheaper than air conditioning and God’s niceness can be witnessed first hand. We went to Oniru beach instead. After some snacks, a long conversation and some playing in the water straight out of a lazy Major Lazer video, we agreed to another date.
Mission accomplished.
After a few more dates, things began to move a bit steady.
For one, we had come to understand one another. She had a giant sweet tooth so I figured ice-cream made up for a few unreturned calls. She also discovered I’m a personal person (whatever that means) so she learned to keep things between us.
But what about other people? I mean, all the people walking around, looking for other people’s business to put their noses in.
Lagos has an estimated 18 million people and all of us are in the same WhatsApp group.
Some weeks into my new thing, one of them chose to tell me some ‘private information’ about Sunny. Basically, she had been seeing someone while I was all by myself in this cold world. This ‘information volunteer’ thought I should know that they had been a celebrity couple of sorts.
Right out of the gates, I didn’t like it. But in a rare moment of reasonable thinking, I chose to talk to her first. A brief conversation cleared things up.
It was easy to understand – It happened before me and she made it clear that they had both moved on.
You hear that dull hum in the background? That’s the sound of a fight that almost happened, dying forever. Out here, some people just don’t want you to enjoy things. I wanted to enjoy this so trust became important way earlier than I expected.
With our external enemies in the dust, it was time to overcome my biggest challenge; myself.
But first – an important question.
How do you know when a series of dates become a relationship?
I ask because some people are funny and they’ll actually ask, what are we now? To which I am inclined to answer that we are nothing but pencils in the hands of the creator.
I think for me, it was when we began to dedicate time to one another. She’d show up when I was having a bad day. I’d take time off my regular schedule to go with her for a weekday movie or a play, (or something I wouldn’t be caught dead doing alone).
Sadly, you will find that sometimes, the devil and his bad ideas will come in your way.
Case in point (and proof that I’m my own biggest problem).
After a relatively stressful week, Sunny had been asking if I could make time for us to chill, on her bill at that, but the boys beckoned. I figured I could give Saturday to the guys and hang with her later.
So on Sunday night, while I was in Lekki at a friend’s, I asked her to dress up for a night out. As I dropped the call and made to request a Taxify ride to the mainland, my fingers begged me to play a final round of FIFA, so I did.
I saw streaks of lightning after I conceded the first goal but the rain didn’t start until I had fully been embarrassed.
Long story short, I ended up spending the rest of my night in traffic, admiring headlights and the Atlantic Ocean, and later, apologising for being a douchebag.
It was a lesson that showing up is important. But sometimes, what is required of you is less personal and more… financial.
At this point, Sunny and I had been going steady for nearly two months.
I was swimming in a relationship, guys. I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life alone in a flat with old books, Football Manager and hungry dogs.
We’d learned enough of each other to know our limits, so when she asked for me to pick up the tab on some work-related software she was getting, I knew she was asking because she had no choice.
The problem is for the past two months, my mind had been dreading this moment; a time that reminded of the immortal Nigerian phrase;
No Money, No Honey
Whether it’s for a dinner on the town, a gift or a bail-out, seeing someone puts some strain on your wallet.
I live in a flat in Surulere and fend for myself which means spending 1000 naira feels like I’m losing blood. In the early days, because love and good vibes cannot charge my laptop, I always chose to pay myself (and my bills) first before helping anyone out.
But the truth is that love in Lagos, or anywhere for that matter, needs money to flourish. How to balance the strain is the real question you have to answer.
Also, pray you don’t end up with someone who looks at you and sees a dark-skinned GTB ATM.
Did I give her the bar? Not all of it but I did what I could.
In the end, Lagos is the real enemy
You read that right.
Spending money on Uber and getting stuck on Third Mainland Bridge. Eating at Chicken Republic because Victoria Island’s restaurants are actually made for Instagram. Missing a date because my street is underwater.
I found out that every time something went wrong, it was because Lagos was trying to kill me.
I don’t understand why we all don’t just decide to be friends because that’s what this city really wants.
But then that’s what makes it fun. Fighting, literally, for what you want, like the time I had to explain why I was on Instagram Stories even though I wasn’t answering her calls.
How did it all end you ask? It didn’t. We’re almost a year strong now and we haven’t reported each other to the Police yet so I guess we’re good. Now I’m just waiting for Lagos to elect a new governor so I can know if this city has something personal against me.
If you do decide to get on this journey through the wilderness, please stay off Tinder, or open your mobile banking app together at the same time.
“Naija, how far?”
Nigerians have been asking for better leaders for as long as we can remember – from street protests to social media. But judging by the state of things, we can’t say we’ve achieved much. Perhaps, it’s time to learn from people who have actually pulled it off quite well, like Nigerian musicians.
When they’re throwing all sorts of accusations at Amaka, or praying for money, our artists know how to take their pain to the people in power, and most times, they get reactions.
Don’t believe us? Let’s take you on a short trip down memory lane.
“Zombie” – Fela Kuti
Who better to emulate than a man who went for the jugular and likened soldiers to zombies as people with no mind of their own? Whether Fela’s message of military oppression got across is not in doubt. The song hurt so much that weeks later, they executed the infamous raid on his home, Kalakuta Republic. On second thought, don’t try this at home.
“Mr President” – African China
This is how to convey so much agony that you oppressors may be moved to pity you. An open letter signed, sealed and delivered with pain. You will be hard pressed to find a protest song as detailed and realistic as African China’s magnum opus, yet there was no arrogance in this song. African China was simply begging because like all of us, he was actually tired-“lead us well, no let this nation to fall inside well.”
“Which Way Nigeria” – Sunny Okosun
Back when he was on his pan-African vibe, Sonny Okosun literally asked, Where exactly are we going to? He called Nigeria an agbaya ruined by indiscipline and corruption and pointed fingers at the government and regular people. This is how to do it if you want to hold everyone accountable.
“For Instance” – 2baba
Instead of going the regular route, 2face chose to imagine himself as one of the people in power. In three minutes, he outlined what we’ve come to expect from our leaders, the lives we’ve resigned ourselves to and what they could do differently. If only our leaders could imagine themselves as better people.
“Jaga Jaga – Eedris Abdulkareem”
Sometimes, presenting alternatives is too nice. Sometimes, you just want to say how you feel and get it over with. I imagine that’s how Eedris felt when he described Nigeria as jaga-jaga, a word that describes disarray like nothing can. The sad thing is many people still feel it’s the right term to describe Nigeria with, so maybe Eedris’ template is the way to go.
“E Wa Fun Mi Ni Visa” – Bembe Aladisa
56 years after independence, after all the protesting, it often feels like we’ve made no progress. So no-one could blame this guy when he showed up on our screens begging the international community aka ‘eyin oyinbo’ for a visa. We hear he eventually got the visa, but not without getting into trouble with, you guessed it, the Nigerian government.
“I Go Yarn” – Eldee
But even when it gets tiring, we must continue to demand more as Eldee does in this classic. He sounds tired, as we all do when we ask for a better Nigeria, but in doing so, he makes it clear that it won’t get better if we go quietly. A manual from someone who believes in his country.
Side-note: The funny thing is that the video for this song is no longer available for watching in Nigeria. Ordinary complain, you can’t even complain in peace.
I can’t remember when I finally understood how happy people work, or if such a moment exists. I do know that there is a kind of happiness you see in people that is contagious.
Such people are rare, but when you do stumble on them, like Teni the Entertainer, you will be certain of who and what you’ve found.
It’s almost impossible to disappoint people like this, as Teni shows in the recently released video for her newest single, “Case”, a song about desire and unrequited love.
As with everything she’s done since she first showed up on our radar, Teni has won our hearts yet again.
And because we love to celebrate happy people, here are five Teni songs that have made us feel the same way.
“Case”
So imagine this scenario. A mystery lady with butterflies in her belly over you sees some random hooligan beat you up over nothing. So she brings out her Okada gang with a team of strong black women to avenge you.
But you just don’t like her in that type of way because you know you’re with someone else and all of that.
Yet even when she finds out her love interest isn’t really interested in her, you get the feeling that Teni was fine just being herself.
“Askamaya”
The biggest song of 2018? We can’t say yet, but we do know that Askamaya makes you want to go to a dingy club with fairy lights that are too bright for the room and dance with reckless abandon.
If that isn’t happiness, I don’t know what is.
“Wait”
“Don’t get it twisted, love is a beautiful thing”, the urban philosopher D’banj once said. On this song, Teni asks a lover if he will wait for her and conjures the image of endless love blossoming against all odds.
It’s the kind of music that makes you want to find someone to love, or if you’re in a relationship, break up so you can fall in love all over again.
Love is a beautiful (and confusing) thing.
“Fake Jersey”
I think of this song, the Super Eagles jerseys and all the love Nigeria got in the weeks before the World Cup and I want to sing happy songs in Fulfulde.
“Rambo” w/ Dr. Dolor
This is what music sounds like when you don’t have a thing to worry about. Teni glides over smooth melodies and takes you to a beach party with friends who might be flirting with you or just being playful.
It’s loose, relaxed and cheerful. Sorrow would never exist in a world that sounds like this.
The day was the 11th of August 1997, nine days after Fela’s death. Seun Kuti stood on the first-story balcony of his father’s home in Ikeja. Tens of thousands of people stood below. Most of them had walked through Lagos for Fela Kuti’s funeral. Now, they looked on as Seun offered a brief yet brave eulogy to the late bandleader.
“We will remember the true meaning of Fela: Forever Lives Africa”, he screamed out.
That acronym now reads “For Ever Lives Afrobeat” – as the theme of Felabration, an annual celebration of Africa’s most influential musician. The event’s purpose is as simple as the statement; Fela’s legacy, this music and his beloved people will live forever.
Fela would have turned 80 this year. In the years since, many names have come forward as potential successors, evidence that his legacy lives on.
But are they really? Which of these artists is the new Fela?
The Prince of Afropop
The first name that comes to mind is Wizkid, Africa’s pop prince and maker of watery party anthems.
In a way–considering his standing and the image he projects–the Fela comparisons were bound to come.
For one, Wizkid loves his marijuana, a drug that Fela described as a “gift from the gods of Africa”. Long before he decided to marry 27 of his dancers, Fela was known for his promiscuity. Wizkid’s 3 children and tussles over parental responsibility have brought that part to the fore as well.
If the comparisons have put them in the same sentence, Wizkid played his part to create an actual conversation by using the #Felaback hashtag.
He has “Jaiye-Jaiye”, a song with Fela’s first son, Femi Kuti, complete with a music video shot at Fela’s Afrika Shrine where he dresses like a Gucci-friendly version of the late icon.
But that’s where the attempts at similarity end. To start with, Starboy doesn’t look like he’s trying to get into trouble with anybody-he is more likely to talk about shoes than politics.
There’s also a lack of depth to Wizkid. His watery lyrics aside, he’s a sweet-faced poster boy for pop success in a way that opposes what Fela stood for; originality, pride in identity and a willingness to push the boundaries.
What we have is an easily digestible version of the real deal; a de-caffeinated Fela more interested in waist sizes than social commentary.
Damini Ogulu’s new national anthem, “Ye” revolves around a sample of Fela’s “Sorrow, Tears and Blood” that most people sing like a personal truth.
Burna ticks a lot of boxes, from Fela’s gang-like inner circle to walking around in his own perpetual cloud of smoke.
His devotion to Fela shows in his music. Burna is adept at making rousing songs of struggle with a sprinkling of Fela’s lyrics.
Like Fela who believed in corporal punishment, Burna has a reputation that suggests he is not one to shy away from using the power of the black man’s fist. And he has his own Afrika Shrine video too in “Run My Race“.
So what’s different? Perhaps, it’s Burna’s nonchalance. He may fill the Fela spec sheet quite well, but unlike Fela, there’s an impression that he’s not a deliberate product of his intentions.
Burna could sing Nigeria to revolution but he’s also as likely to inspire outrage for shutting down an interview of his grandfather because he was apparently bored.
On a bad day, he’s a loose cannon inspired by someone who had no regard for rules.
You get a sense that he wants to be as respected as Fela. But, for better or not, he’s confident he can become someone just as worthy by being himself.
Addendum: Since writing this piece, Burna Boy has delved deeper into Abami Eda’s influence on his sound and beliefs. For one, he has a massive diamond-encrusted necklace in the late singer’s image. The most substantial tributes to Fela have come on his fourth studio album, “African Giant” and the many events that led to that. He is Fela’s biggest and most prominent ambassador today.
Seun Kuti still wears Fela on his sleeve.
It’s almost perfect that the closest real thing to Fela is one of his own.
You can hear it in his aggressive Afrobeat, see it in his outspoken nature, and feel it in his belief in a united Africa.
Seun has Fela’s aura; an air that demands respect even if you’re uncertain of what to expect in return.
It is that impression that lures you to sit beside him and listen to whatever he has to say like the wives and children who shadowed Fela in interviews at his home.
Yet we never look at what Seun does as inspired in the same way that we look at Fela.
Seun, like all Kutis, suffers from the curse of having a unicorn for a father.
He has always been expected to follow in his father’s steps, like his brother Femi.
As such, his best efforts come across as one who is simply doing what he must.
Someone who might be surprised he’s making this conversation is Falz.
How does one compare a sweet-boy lawyer turned rapper – whose mainstream fame came with Instagram skits – to an unbridled, drug-using, anti-establishment bandleader with misogynist views?
The answer? The Internet.
This slightly-absurd story peaked when Falz put out “This is Nigeria“, a commentary on the Nigerian situation inspired by Childish Gambino’s “This is America”.
Lo and behold, the rapper, whose alter ego is named “Brother Taju”, was taking shots at everyone from politicians to yahoo boys.
Falz has found a sweet spot by making music that the average Nigerian finds personal, honest, or amusing at least.
Like Fela, he’s vocal about politics and the quality of people in power. After leaving crumbs of his singer’s inspiration, Falz released “Moral Instruction” in January 2019. It is an album so heavily influenced by the late icon that its could well be a cover album. The album was critically acclaimed for addressing “the lack of decorum that have become part of life in Nigeria”. However, the album faced backlash for selective morality, a problem that we deemed “problematic but not fatal“
But all that is only a feeble drop in a shallow puddle, next to the ocean that was Fela’s life.
At best, Falz’s image and approach is too clean for the grime of Fela’s impetuous life and legacy. At worst, he appears like an attempt to re-imagine a man who died in a class of his own, cooked up in the dark bowels of a strategy meeting.
What then does it take to be a new Fela? Or to be at least, worthy of the comparisons?
To start with, there’s an obvious flaw in how we see Fela. It should be obvious that most fans have grown familiar with a watered-down image where Fela is the benevolent daddy of all Nigerian musicians. But it was the same man who boasted of having death in his pouch.
To be the new Fela would mean to be free-spirited, like him, to the point of recklessness.
At the height of his career, Fela discarded every connection to foreign cultures, particularly those from Europe and the United States.
Despite being raised by an Anglican minister, he shunned Christianity and practised traditional faiths.
Before his performances at the Shrine, Fela would conduct elaborate ritualistic ceremonies with help from his personal magician, Professor Hindu.
To be Fela would mean to be idealistic to the point of self-sabotage.
Fela’s anti-colonial upbringing and his Black Panther teachings spurred a deep hatred for authority and repressive regimes.
As the military abandoned the barracks for government houses, Fela let them know what he thought of their autocracy with tongue lashings disguised as songs.
Some of them were like “Zombie“, a song so brutal that record shops refused to play them in public for fear of being beaten by soldiers.
For all his trouble, Fela had his home burnt down, his wives robbed and stabbed and his mother, the enigmatic Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, thrown from a second-story window.
But till his last days, he never stopped.
To tick the boxes that make one worthy of being compared to Fela would mean abandoning material success for a greater purpose.
In this sense, Fela was closer to a religious leader than an artist.
His home, Kalakuta Republic was a fenced compound that was home to hundreds of free-spirited young people, many of whom had run away from home in search of answers and like minds.
Maybe that’s why there can’t be a new Fela, or why there shouldn’t be.
There are too many boxes to tick, some of them exemplary, others dangerous.
Fela was a rarity – and there will be many more that invoke his ideals. The road to carrying on his legacy may seem covered in Afrika Shrine videos and angry lyrics from “Teacher Don’t Teach Me Nonsense”, but any potential successor may find that the destination is beyond limits.
Some, like Burna will be close in most regards. Others, like W4 who showed us Fela’s fashion in contemporary terms, will pull off some elements with insane precision. But what they will not be is the complete package.
And that’s okay.
On their own, despite their individual shortcomings, they could be all the evidence we need that Fela still lives.
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Nigerian Politics is the gift that just keeps giving. Just when you thought Dino Melaye had proved himself worthy of his skits and questionable dress sense, Aisha Jummai Al-Hassan, known to most as Mama Taraba, showed up this week to serve us with real petty goals.
For those who don’t know her, Mrs Alhassan first came to the spotlight when she lost the race to be governor of Taraba State to Darius Ishiaku of the PDP. For her troubles, she was made Minister of Women Affairs in 2015. Here’s where it gets interesting.
This year. The APC screened her out of the race for the governorship ticket. So our mother in pettiness left the party. Fair enough right? Except on Thursday, her ‘boys’ showed up at the APC secretariat to relieve them of all the things she had donated to the party.
She packed it all, people of God. From computers and office furniture to rugs and air conditioners.
If I move, my property moves – Mama Taraba
Imagine it. One minute, you’re sitting in your new office, the next, someone asks you to stand up because the owner wants to collect her chair and table back.
Hate it or love it, Mama Taraba has set a new standard in showing people you’re actually in charge. Which reminds of us of a few circumstances where we’ve seen these before.
These are the classes of Nigerian politicians Mama Taraba reminds us of.
Those people who want to see how low you can go because they’re already lower.
One day, Dino Melaye will release a full mixtape with Vic-O as his campaign material, just so you know it’s real.
Those people who are sure you can’t create as much trouble as them
Fayose is what pettiness would be if it came from Ekiti, enjoyed frying akara with market women and had ambitions to become a DJ and President at the same damn time.
The class of politicians who will do anything to see their dreams come true
Some of these people have changed parties more times than we’ve eaten in the last three days. But who’s counting right?
Then there are the godfathers that will promote their nephew to firstborn because the first son is misbehaving.
Flogging a bad child, according to Jagaban.
Those people who will bring out your black file the moment you stop being friends
You can go from being the saviour of the world to being a complete nuisance in two days.
Did we leave anyone out? If there are other petty icons, let us know in the comments.
Getting your first internship is right up there with the most important moments in your life. The idea of getting a salary alone is enough to get you excited.
There’s so much that you can’t know about joining the workforce until you’re deep in the system.
We’re here to help you out because you know, we’re your guys and all that.
Your energy is almost as important as your output.
Nobody likes bad energy, especially when they are trying to get things done. Be the reason why people want to come in every day, not the one who’s always complaining about the colour of the dispenser.
You’ll usually have to do more than your job description
Things always come up that will require your skill or attention. It could be because someone’s not in, or you’re just great at doing that one thing.
Work never ends at closing time.
It’s not a bad thing. It just means as long as the world keeps spinning, more things always need to be done. It’s up to you to figure out managing your time.
Nothing can prepare you for the first time you break the dress code.
Oh, you thought this was like one of those American sitcoms where you can go from the club to the office.
Do you need a hug?
At some point, one of your older colleagues will try to send you to buy amala
Shut it down immediately. Managing relationships with your coworkers is very important. Some will be vital in the course of your career. Others just need to be kept at arm’s length.
There will be days when you have a shitload of work and your brain becomes shy.
Take a short walk or a nap. Do something to help your brain get some rest. If you find it’s more serious than that, take a day or two off from work. Even machines need some downtime.
Who you know is nearly as important as what you know.
You need to learn to build and maintain relationships with the people you meet. The guy in that sales meeting today could be the one who will epp your life in 10 years. Shake his hand and collect his number.
You can’t say goodbye to school… not yet.
Odds are the Bachelor’s degree that got you your internship will be as irrelevant as the Abacus in 4 years. Stay ahead of the curve. Enrol in courses. Read within and outside your field.
An internship could be your key to a fulfilling career so find a great place to work and be as diligent as you can.
If you’re in university and you want to know how it feels to be part of a great team.
Her devotion to her work led Hauwa to Rann, a town in Kala/Balge LG in Borno State. It’s the easternmost LGA in Nigeria, on the edge of Sambisa forest.
The area has been a hotbed of the insurgency for years. The young aid worker was abducted there when Boko Haram attacked the town on March 1, 2018.
You could say Hauwa knew what she was signing up for but she cared enough to do it anyway.
Her selflessness endeared her to colleagues and friends. They knew and loved her as a sociable, dynamic and enthusiastic woman.
While she was in captivity, there were numerous calls for her release, from home and abroad.
Hauwa Liman made the ultimate sacrifice to bring hope to a land covered in despair.
That’s how we must remember her.
1. You move to a new area and finally make a rich friend
“Hey man. I’m new to the area. Is that your Range Rover outside?”
2. Then he invites you to meet his other friends at his expensive house.
And you’re wondering why one of them reminds you of Kanayo O. Kanayo.
3. They finally ask where you live so they can come check on you.
So you have to make up the craziest lie about how your estate only allows visitors on Monday morning and Saturday midnight.
4. First night out as guys, and they decide to order at a fancy restaurant
“Can I have a bottle of water, please? I’m fasting”
5. When they talk about their vacation trips but you’ve only gone to Ogbomosho
“God. Why is my life like this? Who do I have to beg?”
6. Sharing interesting stories about the most trying times in their lives
But you can’t say your own because it sounds like something from “Labe Orun”.
7. Everyone says you’re the most humble of your friends
But you can’t afford to be carrying shoulder. You actually can’t afford anything.
8. You and your self-esteem
Because your confidence is tied to your account balance.
9. One day your rich friend comes to you for an emergency loan.
*laughs in long-term poverty*
10. When they eventually start doing things without you
Loneliness is a social construct.
11. So you decide to hustle your way up.
“If we no get money, wetin we gain” – Victor AD. 2018.
