Five in one and one in five......

No one gets out alive. - Jim Morrison & The Doors

The flight to London was relatively smooth and we were not even welcomed by the usual unsmiling Immigration officers and their fake-passport sniffing dogs. (Oh please you amateurs. If you really want to make me feel unwelcome you have a lot to learn. Just pop over the pond and you will see what it takes to really make one feel unwelcome and unwanted).

The hotel in the Bans is cheap but is close to our previous home and offers the girls the chance to see their old school friends. Having gathered them up without much ceremony and shipped them off to Naija my paternal guilt always makes me sacrifice comfort for their pleasure. As I sit typing I am using one hand to type whilst the other is busy alternating between swatting those small vicious bugs that accompany greenery and scratching the bumps on my body where they have already succeeded in leaving their mark. You see the hotel is bereft of AC so we have had to resort to open windows and table fans. Did I mention parental sacrifice?

Slaving away on the laptop really late on Thurday night (hint to employers) with Sky News on in the background I see their Breaking News banner come up and look over to see the headline that Micheal Jackson is dead. For some reason which has not fully hit me yet I am neither surprised nor disturbed. Just numb. My only emotion I would hazard to say was disappointment that he had allowed this to happen to him. Like a lot of people of a certain age I was brought up on MJ. We grew up together though he was older than me. Who in my group growing up experience did not want to be him at some stage in our lives? The jerry curls, the white suit, the dance moves (which unfortunately for Iyawo are still the only ones in my repertoire till today), the glove etc etc. Micheal, Micheal how could you let this happen to you? How could you do this to yourself?Cardiac arrest eh? Is that not what killed Elvis? Oh and yes a bucketful of drugs. Do we never learn? Madonna can't stop crying apparently. Yeah right. This is what it boils down to? Almost 45 years of greatness and Madonna can't stop crying?

The hotel informs us that there is a festival in town this weekend and as such they are fully booked and as such we must hit the road. After much internetting and phoning there is no local alternative to be found so we decide to make the most of it and hit Central London. This is how we find ourselves at the Hilton Park Lane. My memories of this hotel based on previous stays is of Nigerians in the lobby and elevators making the sort of noise only Nigerians can.

We duly arrive at the hotel to be met by Nigerians in the lobby making the sort of noises only Nigerians can. That is the good thing about Nigerians. They never disappoint. Except when they do.

Check in is a smooth process and we are soon whisked up to our floor by the most complicated elevator system known to mankind. You have to enter your floor number even before you get in and the computer then assigns you an elevator. Once you are in you cannot change or select a different floor!! Scary really. The view over London is scarier. (As is the news from my daughter that you have to dial 419 to reach reception. 419?? really?? These people really know how to make us feel welcome!!)

A clear blue sky beckons from the other side of the window and we can see it all, Big Ben, Centre Point, the Gherkin, the Eye etc etc. Height always brings a beauty to a city you cannot get at ground level. Check out Lagos from the top floor of the Eko Hotel and you will be gobsmacked. But we are not here to see the sights only. Teenage girls can do sight seeing for only so long before another urge beckons. Shopping.

I suggest we hit Oxford street on which I will allow them very limited access to my billions. They both give me a look. I'm used to it now. They then inform me that Oxford St on a Saturday is not a good idea. I say haba can it be any worse than Shoprite after the churches let out on Sunday? Trust me it is. Peeking inside Primark (a Mecca for teenage girls) we notice that there are more battles going on in there than Afghanistan. Being that shopping in an empty store is torture enough for me, not to talk about a store filled with half the tourists to London we beat a hasty retreat to Selfridges for lunch to calm our nerves and devise a strategy. It is agreed that the best approach for them (minus dad but with his hard earned moolah) is to be outside the store first thing in the morning when it opens.

So it is that at 11.30 this morning we all arrived (my plan to relax back at the hotel having been defeated again by parental guilt) at the doors to find a crowd strecthing down the road. What is wrong with these people? Is today not a day of worship in the Western world. I have an excuse in that I am a Muslim so am allowed to be out galavanting of a Sunday morning buying £5 button fly jeans and 98p sunglasses. What is your excuse? This time there is no turning back as our Central London sojourns ends today. So we brace ourselves and join the fray.

And this is how life is. A musical icon passes away and well..... Life goes on. RIP MJ! I will miss you.

Five in one and one in five

No one gets out alive.

It's hard to be a saint in DC.ity

After a long, long flight what you want is a warm embrace, a smile, a big hug, an offer of a cold drink, a buxom blonde with shiny white teeth and a cold towel for your furrowed brow. What you get is:

"What brings you here?"

"How long are you staying?"

"Where are you staying?"

"How much luggage are you bringing in?"

""How much cash are you carrying?"

"Why are you frowning?"

It would be easy and tempting to say "yes I understand that there is a need for security because 8 years ago some Saudis who were trained in your country committed an act of terrorism and punched a big hole in your veil of invisibility. Now that was 8 years ago, millions more innocents have died since, some at your hands. so get over it. Dawg."

However these comments are about as welcome as a bible at a bar mitzvah so with a tightening of the sphincter one holds in one's view and maintains the rictus smile whilst the whole charade goes on. I am assured this is much the better option than getting said sphincter being forcibly examined by a brute called bud who grew up on a farm and misses the goold ole days of probing said region of small unsuspecting animals.

A good forty five minutes later we are comfortably settled in our ride and off to the hotel. I am sure gaining entrance to the pearly gates would be far easier , faster and there would be no fingerprinting involved.

The first thing we notice is how green the grass really is. The grass really is greener. And lush. And everywhere there are mammoth tress with even greener leaves. The drive to the hotel is a marvel of Georgian buildings, green grass and clean streets. No wonder they keep trying to keep the riff raff out. The problem being that unfortunately they are already in.

Welcome to Obamaland.

24 out of 100..... A fail mark in any book.

For the past week I have been tortured by the screaming, shouting hysterical wailing of one Jack Bauer. Iyawo in her wisdom picked up the latest series of 24 on DVD and it has been hell. Not only is our friend Jack, for me, the worst secret service agent ever, what with being the magnet for all the world's evils but he surely must be living in some sort of groundhog day nightmare. I think this is series 7 and for me there was no difference between this and Series 2, 3, 4, 5 and er 6. See terrorists plan to destroy America, see Jack come to the rescue, see lots of people that have any connection with Jack whatsoever get killed, see Jack being in almost constant danger but he manages to walk through glass, survive bullets, bombs, chemical poisoning and all the other atrocities these "terrorists" throw his way.

I tell you this stuff was riveting in Series 1, mildly amusing in 2, interesting in 3 or whichever series had the black President (a definite precursor for Obama I feel as the actor carried off the role with such dignity and charisma) but by now I am actually on the terrorist's side. I keep hoping that the next explosion, bullet, radio chemical will put paid to Jack but no, like a bad coin he keeps turning up saying the same things, doing the same things, chasing the same ghosts. From the various snatches of this latest series I caught, between giving Iyawo filthy looks and what not, it seemed at one point that he had one day to live. Imagine my surprise when Iyawo came out of her coma after a marathon watching session to tell me that the prat had survived and not only that but the "terrorists" had also captured his daughter (who had made some of the episodes in the other series watchable, cough) so that there would definitely be another series. No Jack please no. You have failed. Go to the back of the class.

Speaking of losers, my condolences go to the supporters of Man U. Delusional as they are and filled with false pride by the Scotsman. The air was slowly, painfully and embarrassingly let out of their balloon over 90 minutes in Rome. As a former footballer and still avid and passionate follower of the sport I cannot begin to tell you how magical it was watching that game. It was like a film. Several times I muttered to myself - this is like a practice match. The sheer domination of the game by Barca was so absolute after the first ten minutes of Ronaldo that I assumed that there was some sub plot wherein Ferguson would do something and then they would go on and win. However, God, in his infinite wisdom saved me from having to suffer the smug Scots's git after match press conference wherein he would blow smoke up his own bottom (a difficult task but he manages to do it consistently). Be quiet Sir Alex. You too have failed miserably.

For me however, the key thing was, and is, the difference between Messi and Ronaldo. On the one hand we have a perma tanned prima donna (the crooked teeth and greasy spotty face are now a thing of the past) who swans around as if he is owed everything and on the other hand you have a small pale genius who glides about the pitch without much fuss doing serious and maximum damage. The second goal from Messi will be played over and over in sport's highlights for years and demonstrates that one can be just as effective in one's work, believe in one's ability and be confident in one's self without having to always shout it from the rooftops.

Someone please tell Mr Bauer as he prepares Season 8 or is it 80?

Smoking the green shoots of recovery.....

House prices are up. No they are down. The price of land in Lekki has fallen. No it has gone through the roof. The worst is over. No there is still more to come. UK Ministers are claiming 40p chocolate bars on expenses. Nigerian ministers are sharing $60m amongst themselves (we always have to show off don't we?). BA suffers its greatest annual loss (serves them right). BT lays off another 10,000 people. Zain jettisons 300 in Nigeria.

All these headlines and still when I look around in Lagos I do not see a single sign of this so called Cadbury's crunch. Where is it? Or are we exempt from the words "Global credit crisis?". The number of new cars continues to grow. I have seen at least half a dozen of the new and even more ugly BMW X6 in the last week not to talk about new Merc 4x4s and the latest big boys toy - the Tundra - a car bigger than some places I have lived in. So where is it? Where are the signs of cutting back? Planes are still full. Parties a plenty. So what's going on? Are we fooling ourselves or the world? Are we thumbing our noses at them from the privacy of our beach front villas? Credit crunch? Oh please squire. How distasteful. Not a topic for polite company old chap.

My landlord is looking to sell one of his houses for N100m . He has not even finished building and the buyers are already jostling. And this is not a mansion o. Just a small, well built and finished four bed house on a small plot. He looks at me with some pity when I ask if he is not asking too much. He is probably thinking to himself. Look at this JJC. This didirin. N100m is weekend money for some big boys o. These guys have the credit crunch for supper and wash it down with Moet.

So is it me? Or are some people really smoking the green shoots of recovery?

Totally unrelated to the credit crunch (but in line with smoking green shoots ) is this photo of African first ladies. Cameroon must be a much livelier place than I had gleaned from my short visit there last year. As for our own first lady - kudos for decency and decorum.

Good people. Great nation. Lazy sod!

Well its been a long time
sorry I've kept you
without the updates you're used to
without fabu and gisting
I just went awol and missing
I apologise for my absence
too much travel to make sense.

Wow. A day is a long time in blogsville. I can only imagine how long a month must feel like. There has been so much happening that I don't even know where to start. I am discombobulated. disoriented and just dis.

Where to start? Today is the best place I suppose ,and the clearest. At my age things start to disappear from the memory banks sooner rather than later. The birthdays and other important events I have forgotten this month alone!! Anyway.

There are things happening on our estate that give cause for concern. Firstly, earlier this year they fixed the main road by which I mean you can actually drive on it without requiring a new exhaust; shocks; tires or liver. Then out of the blue just yesterday I was informed that all the streetlights had been switched on and were working! All the way from the gate to the bottom end. It was like a promenade apparently. This is fantastic news as two days ago I almost ran over a cow that was lying in the middle of the road chewing it's cud. No seriously. It was just lying there like "bros, how's things?. Yes I know I am lying in the middle of the road, just chilling but besides that what's jumping?. Me? Get run over? In this Lagos? Na lie. I pity the 4X4".

I am concerned about these developments- the street repairs, light fixing, new gate and heightened security because in Nigeria they have a way of building you up to the highest high then just when you think you can see and smell heaven they drop you down without a parachute.

I am holding my breath. The minute clean water starts coming out of our taps and we get more that five to six hours of electricity I am out of here. I won't let these people kill me o.

Tomorrow - I think some people have been smoking the green shoots of recovery.

Hot Chocolate

I sit and stare as your steam rises

I watch your foam trickle down

With fumbling fingers I trace its path

and bring your sweet taste to my mouth

I dip my thumb into your cream

I stir the froth and feel your heat

that bubbles like molten lava

from a volcano, underneath.

I bring your cup up to my lips

I run my tongue around your rim

I ease aside your creamy defenses

and dip my tongue into your warm embrace

I sip your nectar with slow precision

I marvel at your heavy richness

a connoisseur sampling a new found taste

finding it so much to my liking

I end with cream around my face.

Much later as you lay, exhausted,

your taste still lingers in my mouth

my tongue still throbbing from its exertions

tingling from your heated responses

I run it slowly around my lips

all the while wondering how long

I must wait to savour

(for you have now made me a junkie)

your sweet nectar and flavour.

Hot Chocolate.

I am so underwhelmed.......

Last night when I was sitting there minding my own business jeje jeje and praying for Arsenal to beat Hull so we could meet them at Wembley (prefer Arsenal to Hull o. Those Hull boys are too goal hungry for my own liking) when my phone buzzed and I received the following text message. FGN - Nigeria . Good people, great nation. I immediately scanned my phonebook for any Man u supporter with those initials but to no avail. See I thought that since I had sent condolence texts to every Man U supporter I know over their weekend destruction by Liverpool it could have been one of them sending me a text back as a piss take. No luck there. And then I thought maybe it was one of my work colleagues in the UK who had received another one of those 419 mails they are so very happy to discuss with me in great detail every time I happen to be in our HQ. Again no luck. Oh well. Back to the game.

Call me slow sha but after some time it then occured to me that hold on a minute, you didirin, FGN stands for Federal Government of Nigeria. Of course you can understand my slowness after all I am not in the habit of getting mails from the highest levels of the Executive arm. After all I am only a lowly tax paying, law abiding citizen not seeking government contracts or political office. Why in the hell would they want to acknowledge my existence?

So the Minister of Communications and Information is erm communicating with me. She is announcing the winner of the re branding Nigeria exercise. And this is it. Good people. great nation. Wow. Great. But now to more important things. How many yards does William Gallas have to be offside for the linesman to notice him and disallow his goal? I mean how can you miss a six foot black man standing all by himself in front of goal? It is not obvious that he is offside and the goal should be disallowed?

So it was that I lay awake at night tossing and turning with my stomach churning about this turn of events. I mean can you Adam and Eve it (believe) it? How could this happen in this day and age. Great nation. Good people. This is the best that we could do? I mean is this the right time to be rebranding Nigeria anyway? Do you not rebrand when you have introduced a change of some sort (ideally positive) into the old brand. Lets check the facts:

Have any corrupt Governors been tried and jailed recently. No
Has the GDP of the country changed dramatically? No
Has the Naira gained in value? No
Has the living standard of the man on the street been improved? No
Has health care, education, communication, security improved? No
Has the new Minister really thought this through?. No
Has broadband penetration, which falls under the Ministry of Comms improved enough to allow a majority of Nigeria's citizen be able to join the Global village? No
Is this really the best place for the Ministry to be focused in light of a recent one month strike by Nitel that crippled all International comms services into Nigeria due to non payment of their wages for 8 months? No

Hmmm. So basically what we are saying is that things are still as they are but we will call them a new name? Like changing from NEPA to PHCN? We will slap new paint on a derelict house? We will put new seat covers on an abandoned car? And this rebranding exercise will only cost $150m to execute? Bargain (but there is no money ot pay Nitel workers?). For that sort of price we should do it every month.

As for Arsenal. Maybe we could rebrand them as Arse. Has a certain ring to it don't you think? Actually we could use that term for the Nigeria rebranding as well.