Eze's Musing

We had come for Sunday School Preparatory Class. With us were members of my childhood church, respected people, and my parents. It appeared we all arrived early so there was time for catching up before the start of the Prep. I, my pastor, and a few others talked about why I have not been coming for the prep, although I had a respectable and juicy position - Assistant Superintendent. I smiled and thought to myself that it didn't matter, the position wasn't anything to make me available for the preps. It was all small talks when there was a sudden flurry of activities: members began to run into the church hall - we were holding the prep outside. I thought it was a sudden rain, others thought so too, but some others saw the strange things. I didn't see what was happening. I wondered why they all were running off without carrying the wooden benches we were using. Ideally, when the rain comes while we were in class, members carried benches -  two Individuals to one bench, each i

We came late. People had waited long and were in a hurry to go. We got in for the negotiations. I am not used to any of such. So, I was really apprehensive. My parents were too, since they didn't know the traditions of our host. So, when the eldest man of the family began to pour out and count the pear seeds, our unease rose to a max. My mum's face went pale, my dad shrunk, and I could feel my hollow tummy. We waited as he counted.  It turned out that the pear seeds was a symbol of money. Each pear was a thousand Naira. And since we were not bargaining for a goat, but a woman, we can't haggle money directly. The culture said we had to go back and forth on it three times. So, we did. When it was done, the elder counted __ seeds and another__ seeds. The deal was done. The tradition says pay the first set now and the second set whenever.  Next, Victor Akpagu whisked me away to get photographed. The next twenty minutes was clinging and snapping with Somto and her girls.We we

In it all, there is this part of us that just wants to sit and observe it all: no speeches, no interests to protect, and no end to meet. Just a proper analysis of all things and wonder at the whys and the bases. That part of me makes a debut quite often. I find that I mostly want to observe, to experiment - to do things just to observe the outcomes. Go to places, hang out with people, try out an idea, do a project, and the list goes on and on. There is this urge to experience, reflect on the experience, and then recount them in speech and writing. And I wish that could be the default mode of life - no real consequences, just an unending sequence of trying, reflecting, and recounting. But life is not just a series of harmless events and choices. There are roads we take and never return; actions come with serious reactions. And even more saddening is societal cum moral expectations. We find that we can't just be passive and objective when some matters are discussed; certain social gr

I was born and raised in a lower-class family. Or if you will bother with more accuracy, top lower-class, for even among the low, some are lower. Dad did his best to give my siblings and me a fine education. So, since my school days, I have mingled with children from higher social standing. Today, I have become in the eyes of society a middle-income man due to where I work. I do not see myself as a middle-income man, because my network is still rooted in the lower rungs, and I am still within their everyday demands. How do I live a mid-income life amidst the poverty of my network? My inner life is a constant tussle between the realities of the lower class and the expectations of the middle class. So, spending is a headache - every dime spent has to be justified, and every need must be questioned for legitimacy. Every buy is considered in the light of how many families it could feed. It is a constant barrage of what the alternative uses are. Needs are real, expectations are real too, an

I am a Christian, I was born into Christianity. Over the years, I have walked my own spiritual journey in the overall framework of Christianity. So, some micro beliefs that once mattered no longer do. Some, practices are now clearly seen as simple traditions that have nothing to do with right standing with God.   Years of both religious, philosophical, and historical study also lend a particular color to my view of what matters most in the Christian religion. Since I have been an individual who is keen about my internal belief system matching my external actions, it has been a hard battle with living true to the  requirements of the established church - my mind keeps sorting which is essential and which is simply an addendum. Organized Christianity has a strong pull, you can't dissent easily. Plus the sentiments are deeply rooted such that they block off even obvious points from the Holy book. Dissent is negated no matter how Bible-based it is. The norm just have to be maintained,

I remember a story I was told when I was a child. How the Spider got his distinct thorax-abdomen constriction. The spider, it was told had agreed with different people to be in their event (or was it to help them on the farm?). The activities for the different groups fell into the same day and time. So, when it was time they all came to take the spider along. A heated argument arose, each claiming that they informed him first, and so had the right to take him along; and their engagements were all very important. Nobody wanted to listen to anybody, so they each tied a rope on Mr. Spider's waist in an attempt to drag him off from the others. The four parties ended up pulling at four different directions. The result is what we see today. Today, I will call myself that spider. Not that I have agreed to attend a function, but that I have achieved a duality (if not quadruplicity) in my religious and social interactions that has now presented a difficulty in planning my special event. No

Photos by qimono at pixabay I am getting married!!! Yes, I am. Many people talk about their vision of how they would feel when they are about getting married, but I didn't have any. So, here am I about to get married, but I feel very regular, of course, except for having to spend more  So, who are my marrying? My teenage-time crush!  An all time prayer point!! Some how Providence kept Somto single till I was ready. Come September 11, God willing, I will be married to Somto. I send this as an informal notification and a formal request for support - good will and monetary - mostly monetary really. '"One person does not cook for the community", the Igbos say; signifying that when it comes to catering for a community project, an individual can only do so well, when that same community helps. In these few weeks, I have understood this more as needs and requirements mount. I will be pleased to get support from you as I anticipate September 11, the day Chinedu says 'I do

There are things you don't want to change - the way you treat people kindly, the listening ear you give to friends - you don't want to change them. But you change. You fought the change as it was coming, you gritted your teeth and said no to the change. But you change. Things force you to change. The demands got much, your own needs begin to really hold tight - your projects had increased. You try to balance the competing interests but they are much - 'everybody' is asking, and you see all the needs. Or maybe you realized you were not all that selfless. So, did you change, or a part of you that you never knew surfaced? Well, you just want them all to know that you fought the change, or that you never liked that part of you that you never knew. Picture credit: Andrew Martin from Pixabay

I am scared of getting old. I hate to think that I will ever come down with low energy, low aspiration, low inspiration, and be down and out. Will my urinary system retain integrity? Will my muscles begin to shake? What will my eyes and ears do? I am scared of getting old. Will younger men disdain me?   Will they regard me as dull, feeble, and useless? Will they push me aside in their purposeful frenzy? Will I be too slow to understand what they are saying? Will I be too weak to follow their tracks? I am scared of growing old. Will I have no desire? Will my mind not process solid thoughts? Will I be able to stand erect?   Will it be impossible to sit still or sleep still? Will I toss on the bed and feel no pain?   I hate to think I will grow old. What will happen when I retire? Will my jaw chew aright? Will my throat swallow? How about my stomach, will it churn and turn or grit in pain? Will my bowel move by my will or develop its own mind. Will I then be able to wine and dine?

So, I visited Ope, a Christian brother from my national service days. His bathroom shower works! If you have lived in some mid and low-cost areas of Enugu, the coal city, you will know that's a big deal. I have lived in houses where we did the bucket method. And it is my birthday today, and I want to make the day special, but I never know how to. I know however that I must write. So, I write - The Gift Of A Body. I got that in Ope's shower! Therefore, when Christ came into the world, he said: "Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a BODY you prepared for me; with burnt offerings and sin offerings you were not pleased. Then I said, 'Here I am--it is written about me in the scroll-- I have come to do your will, O God.' "   - Hebrews 10: 5 - 7, New International Version. The writer of Hebrews was obviously quoting Psalms 40: 6 - 8, with some slight modifications. Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but my ears you have pierced; burnt offerings an

September 2019, the Rebirth of EBF * Like all other months, I was awake at the birth of the new month, working away on a project of the last month. I seem never to know the difference between time swaths (months). Time is a continuum, so today is same as yesterday though we call it by a new month or a new year. I had noted in August that September was the month to host my 8 month dead event.   I had informed Gbade of the role he was to play. So, here was the time to execute! By the second or third day of the month, I had spent two hours to design the fliers for the event. Akure was to witness ‘The New Narrative’ whereas Akunga will make do with ‘Personal Finance for Entrepreneurs’. The events were not to be called a breakfast, because I knew I didn’t have the cashflow to make breakfasts. So, I settled for the word ‘Time-out’. With that, I can afford not to give costly refreshments! The New Narrative, 12 th September, Akure Akure.  We forgot to snap the particpants.