Are You Working for Money?

In my previous post, I started talking about how my money is working for me. To put things in perspective for you and help you understand how far the good Lord has brought me, I’ve been called ijebu by my own family members because I like to keep my own money and spend everyone else’s.

But what’s the harm in that as long as I share some of mine with you when you’ve exhausted your own? Lol. But seriously, I am not one of those people who love the power that comes with buying whatever they want. Instead I feel like I’ve been overpowered or outsmarted when I spend. As if the seller has succeeded in separating me from my money. But because I like good things (who doesn’t?), I will help you spend yours if you like spending!

I don’t like finding myself without money (abeg who does?) so I’m slightly uneasy and grumpy when I’m broke. I like to have a savings, cut my coat according to my size and take zero risks.

But my motives for being prudent could keep me in a stagnant cycle. Why? Because I can fall into the trap of always working for money and not having my money work for me.

I’ve come to understand that having your money work for you is the path to independence and this will mean different things for different people but I think this means spending my money on things that would:

- bring in more money long term

- save me money in the long run

- improve the quality of my life or someone else’s life

But how does this play out practically? Are there any hard and fast rules? For instance, if you received a $20,000 bonus from your employer, would you use it as a down payment on a house, go back to school for your masters or buy a car? This is assuming that you need all three of these things and don’t own any?

What impact would your life circumstances have on making such a decision? For example, if you were…single, married, a mother, a father, due for retirement, an aspiring entrepreneur etc?

My inverter and My money

My inverter is a huge blessing! I am so so so happy that I invested in it. I was initially intimidated by the price of one battery -N60,000 - And I needed to buy two! So like a wise businesswoman I coaxed daddy dearest into footing the bill for one. After all I won’t carry the thing with me when I’m moving into my own house. Heh heh.

But my people, this inverter is more than worth its value! PHCN gives us an average of six or seven hours of electricity during the day. Yes, when most folks are hard at work in the office they fulfill righteousness and bring light and take it just as you’re stepping into your house in the evening! But with the inverter I can ‘save’ all that electricity for use when I get back home.

I could buy a generator at a cheaper price and have it carry hefty appliances like my A/C and iron, but my inverter still beats a generator hands down because: I don’t have to start combing my neighborhood looking for a kind gentleman to pull my generator. I don’t have to sit in the stuffy heat because I’ve shut the windows against the screaming generator noise. I don’t have to keep reminding myself to put the keg in the car so I can buy fuel for the gen. I don’t have to spend thousands on fuel and I don’t have to store fuel in my house!

Plus whenever they bring light, the inverter automatically switches over and begins to charge up again. I don’t have to interrupt my precious sleep to switch over to PHCN.

Now that’s what I call having my money work for me. More on money in my next post ;)

NYSC Orientation Camp - November 2009

This month, two years ago, I was rounding up my three weeks at NYSC orientation camp. Oh, the good times (I'm not being sarcastic...well maybe a bit;)

But if you never went to a Nigerian government boarding house or more broadly have never been to an NYSC orientation camp, please prepare your mind as you go to camp on Tuesday - here is the Aje-butters guide for surviving NYSC camp.

Sweet sweet Love

Mmmhhhaahhhh! That's the sound of the big sigh that I'm letting out. I've been away too long! Where do I start from? Life is interesting, exciting, scary - The mere fact that I do not know what will happen in the next year. Oh yes, I might think I know. But who am I? I can just see God chuckling at me. Yes, I concede, who am I? I don't know nada about tomorrow!

Yet I choose to Love. Because love is all I need. When the Bible says that love is the greatest thing of all, it's not playing. Yes it's talking about the mushy, talk all night on the phone, can't live without you, I must-marry-you now kind of love. But it's also talking about the you really hurt me, your family is mean to me, I can't stand you right now but I still love you kind of love. Why? Because "Love covers a multitude of sins."

So how can you say you love but then resent a woman just because she's looking fyne! You give your cousin, your ___the silent treatment, and get jealous and angry when good things happen to your friend. Yes, I know that feeling all to well. The pain and fear of unfulfilled dreams. We've all been there and done that. I find myself there one too many times. Why? Because it's my default, factory, human setting. But you know what? I choose not to live that way. I don't have to love only when I'm feeling loved. Nah,this life is too precious for that. I'd be missing out on the enjoying the depths of the greatest gift of all if I do not free myself to love.

Love is too sweet to limit to one small area of your life. I want it to seep into every conversation, every transaction. I want it to sweeten my entire life. I want to feel its warmth. I want it to bring tears to my eyes. I want more of it. Lots more of it. And you know the best part? I don't have to wait to get it. Because true love...gives. That takes me out of the victim's box and puts me in the driver's seat.

Yesiree! I'm free to love. I am free to give. I am free to live.

Why I am still in Nigeria

After my experience at passport control, we drove away from the airport and I was elated. Everything seemed alive! Maybe it’s the dusty roadsides, red soil, lizards or just the people, but everything about Nigeria is engaging. It is only in this country that your okada driver will fight you for not giving him exact change! My people, please hear: I was on my way to the bus stop last week and he asked if I had change, I said yes, afterall N50 is change to me. Apparently, he meant the exact N30 fare. My bad! But he didn’t say exact change, he said change. So, what would have happened if I had given him N200? Of course like a true Nigerian, I didn’t back down when he started flailing his arms and barking at me, saying he didn’t have any change to give me.

An idle onlooker/bus stop agbero saw that neither one of us were budging and interceded by giving me my N20 change. I took it with a scowl on my face but relief in my heart. Honestly, I’m not cut out for confrontation. It took me the rest of the morning to shake the guy’s bleached face and oversized helmet face from my psyche.
Now tell me where else can I find that kind of interaction with a complete stranger? --- Well there was that time during my recent trip; I was in Primark on Oxford street when from my spot on the check out queue, I heard a young lady in the ladies shoe section swearing, shouting, screaming at the top of her lungs to a fellow shopper who had allegedly ( and of course mistakenly) stepped on her.

Some people are just crazy I tell ya!

(The picture was taken from Ebute Metta shoulder of Third Mainland bridge. If you look, far at the right end you'll see the rest of the bridge curving to Oworonshoki)

2 Years later…in Nigeria

It’s been two years since I moved back home to Nigeria. ( My move back date was on my birthday).

I had secured a bargain on http://www.vayama.com/ on a Lufthansa flight out from Washington Dulles, and the layover at Frankfurt left me tired. It wasn’t a long wait; the airport was just unexciting –very minimalist. It lacked the conventional airport design and airport buzz that allows you alternate between people / plane watching. So when we eventually took off for Abuja and reached cruising altitude, I quickly joined the other fatigued passengers who were jostling to make beds out of the empty rows.

I had to make do with 3 unoccupied seats (my 5’9’ comfortably requires a row of 4 seats). And I was so tired I missed the air hostess’s snack cart. An exotic food lover like myself never ever misses food on an international flight. It’s a big no-no in my world. Food is the highlight of my flight. Besides, I paid for it! Yes ke…even if you don’t feel like eating it when they bring it, collect it, my friend. It’s your own. Give it to your neighbor, eat it later or package it for yourself or for your people (How else will you know I’m a Nigerian?)

I’ll be quick to say though that I’m not one of those people who pull down their trays 15 rows before the airhostesses even reaches them. I respect myself.

So I woke up a few hours into the journey and instinctively popped my head over the chair backs to see if lunch had passed my by. It had. As if reading my mind, one of the hostesses walked over to me to find out if I’d be interested in eating. I nodded vigorously and she brought me a steaming square-shaped pizza. Those Lufthansa air hostesses are till date the nicest cabin attendants I have encountered in several years. They were cheerfully patient, and we all know that Nigerian passengers are not the easiest set of passengers to cater to!

I’ll never forget the Belgian airhostess that spoke sharply into her microphone to her mostly Israeli passengers: “Ladies and gentlemen am I speaking English or chinoise?! Please take your seat until the aircraft has come to a complete stop!” I was so shocked but then my classmates and I broke out laughing as we got off the plane. Israelis (and Nigerians if I may add) have a habit of being overzealous on flights so we didn’t fault the hostess for her frustration.

To be continued…

Lagos Spot: Sky Restaurant

Thanks for all the birthday wishes Peeps!The day turned out fabulous. Flowers, a delicious dinner overlooking the Lagos skyline and some good ‘ol loving from friends, family and ofcourse my sweetheart. What else does a girl want ey? The service at Sky Restaurant was fantastic. I can easily say the best customer service I’ve had at any Nigerian restaurant. I can’t say if they’re that good all the time, because it was my first time there, but our waiter was good! Courteous and helpful, not in the annoying yes-ma, yes-sir kind of way, but in the I know my job, I like my job and I’m here to ensure you enjoy your time here kind of way.

So here’s a picture of our plates as we rounded up our appetizers. I got carried away and forgot to take pictures of the entrees that followed. The bill runs high, so budget from N25,000 for two. However, compared to other restaurants in that price range, they’ve got fantastic service and a fantastic view! (Plus a fantastic piano player).

I thought the décor could have been more intimate and cosy, but the service made up for it.

Sky Restaurant is located at the penthouse of Eko Hotels & Suites in Victoria Island.

This is my life and I love it!

For some reason, I get a bit apprehensive around my birthday. When I was 21 I threw a fit and insisted that I didn’t want to celebrate it. I was visiting my folks for the summer and I just wanted the birthday to pass without a fuss. Thank goodness for my mother who ignored my teenage moods and insisted on cooking and calling every one she knew for a mini replica of my 10th year old bash! It was like she was the owner of the birthday, she was sooo happy!

At the end of the day, I look back on pictures and am grateful for the memory that was created. I thoroughly enjoyed myself that day!

Where we would be without the wisdom and the glowing pride of our mothers/elders?!

So now another birthday is around the corner and I can feel a twinge of mixed emotions running through me. God has just been too good to me and any other feeling besides gratitude would just be sheer ingratitude!

My flesh wants to rebel and whine and sulk. WHY? I have no idea! But hey, sorry to disappoint you fleshie. I refuse to be ruled by fleeting feelings.

This is my life and I love it!

Do you all remember singing along with the problem child:

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to. Cry if I want to! Cry if I want to! You would cry too if it happened to you! Ta na na na!

Naw, no such pity party here. I’m singing…

Go shorty, it’s your birthday.. Ima party like it’s my birthday!

To all the July babies out there….here’s to a fantastic, fulfilled, loving, giving, sharing and explosive new year!

Ha ha ha!

Here, here!

Aggression aside!

This morning I was trying to act like a superwoman on my way to work. I had decided to sleep in and consequently had to take public transport to work. Catching a bus from my usually crowded stop was not a problem, but once seated in the danfo, I kept wondering why we didn’t have a conductor in such a large bus (27 seater instead of the usual 15 seater).

My mind conjured up all sorts of explanations including being driven off third mainland bridge into some underwater kingdom. (As if lack of a conductor would be the prerequisite for entry!)

But as I was saying before I hit that weird tangent, I got to Obalande without any of the usual PT drama except having to split N100 change with another passenger who the driver was owing after we all disembarked. Because I was holding the change, I wandered around wondering who to ask for change. I asked one agbero looking man who gruffly told me he didn’t have. Then a big guy walks up to me and offers to make change for us. He must have overheard me or perhaps was on the same bus, but I was so surprised and touched. I don’t think I looked that lost or distraught, this man was just being kind!

Fastforward to my superwoman move. I find a half empty bus going my route. The driver isn’t stopping and with 20 minutes to get to work, there’s no way I’m gonna miss this bus. So I grab the door and hop on board - only to miss my step! Thinking back now the driver must have stopped or my hands must have held me up because I didn’t fall to the ground. I scraped my left thigh against the iron chairs (with bruises to show even though I was wearing jeans) and just sort of hung on the bus.

Kai! Sorry. Eya! Sorry oh! All the passengers called out in a frenzy as I recovered, stepped into the bus, brushed off my jeans settled into my seat. The young man seated to my left even put his arm around me protectively as if to shield me from additional harm !

I was sooooo embarrassed, but they kept calling out with apologies. It wasn't until I looked up at all of them and said “thank you” then they stop with the eyas!

My ego was seriously smarting, mainly because my attempt to appear an agile chick was exposed! But after I calmed down, I kept thinking: Aggression aside, Nigerians are kind people !
It is on days like this that I’m grateful for my country and optimistic about our future!

The morale of the story

People, people, people, my previous post was not about wanting a new phone. (I don't want one)

I don catch una! With your greedy minds. After all the plenty talk I’ve been talking on this blog. Yes, I was recently delivered from corper-hood and a long-standing affair with miserliness, but sho! definitely not to the point where I’d spend 100k on a phone. Hey, what are daddies and sweethearts for? Heh heh.;)

There’s a deeper message people. Oya, go back and read! ;)