Good ole blighty.

I arrive at the car rental desk to be greeted by a Polish lady who takes my booking and points me in the direction of the bus that will take me to the car park. The bus arrives and a burly Polish chap helps me with my cases and drives me to the park where another Polish chap, slightly younger, points out the bay where my car is parked. I head to the gate where an old wisened Polish chap checks my paperwork and sends me on my merry way.

I arrive at the hotel where the Polish girl in reception struggles to pronounce my name whilst I don't even attempt to pronounce hers. I did not realise it was possible to have so many Ks, Js and Cs in one name. The Polish concierge takes my bags to my room and seems genuinely happy with his tip. Feeling famished, I order room service where another Polish girl takes my order and the food is delivered by a slightly effeminate Polish boy. In the morning I make my way out of the room and stumble across the Polish cleaners who wish me a good day as I make my way to work.

God it's great to be back in London.

The MANAGEMENT (hence the picture)

Iyawo wakes me up from a restless slumber with the dreaded words no one wants to hear when they are several thousand miles away “ there is a leak coming from the wall outside the kitchen”. Those who know me know that minor irritations or house stuff like this is not my forte. (I sleep through potential armed robberies remember?) .

Immediately my mind springs into action despite lack of sleep ( I am currently in the hottest hotel in the western universe. Even with the window open I swelter through the night.). So you will please excuse the first question that springs out of my mouth. “Has it been raining?”. Silence. Duh. Of course if it had been raining the whole wall would be wet abi no be so? Look I said I was tired and half asleep when she rang and I am smart in other ways otherwise she would leave me.

We then went through a more sensible list of possibilities and ended up deciding that we needed to get the plumber in. Yesterday it was the gate that refused to open or close hence voiding the whole security thing (note to readers – I do not feel great to be abroad knowing that the only defence between my family and danger is MOE.) The day before that it was the generator.

This leads me on to the real subject of today’s blog. Daily life in Naija is hard oh (note to Anonymous – this is an observation rather than a complaint so down your pen jo). Day after day is filled with MANAGEMENT. Here is a short list of the things that you need to watch and manage just inside your house. There is a whole other list for outside:

Power surges which make your light bulbs go ping and sometimes set fire to your house.
Low current – which makes everything dull, drives your stabiliser wild and eventually fries your Plasma screen and melts all the ice cream in the fridge (screw the goat meat darling just save the Ben & Jerrys).
Generator issues – when you are using something that is built for casual use and backup almost on a constant basis you should expect problems. Every few days.
Diesel – to go and buy or get it delivered? If delivered how do you know the meeting is working? Who keeps an eye on the delivery? What if they just pump air into the tank? When it was empty the first time they came to fill it and it took 160 litres. I recently received a bill showing fillings of 185 and 190 litres. I wonder where they put the extra?
Water issues – ours comes out a lovely brown from the tap – if it comes at all. Lovely for the skin if you don’t mind the smell.
Aircons – it is so bloody hot they have to be left on all the time- end result constant service or replacement. Or swelter. Again great for the skin if you don’t mind the migraines.
Security – who is keeping an eye on things whilst the boys are asleep? Wait a minute, where are the boys?
Staff – I am sure that I left N10k on the dressing table but now there is only N9k or am I just going mad?
Driver – someone has moved this seat? Is he using the car for kabu kabu when he is on is own? Why is the petrol tank empty again?
Iyawo – why is she phoning me at 8am in London to tell me there is a leak in the house in Lagos?

It is damned exhausting keeping up I tell you. I have more mechanics, engineers and workmen on my phone list than friends. Day after day they arrive to fix this, sort that, replace this, manage manage that. With each visit Naira flows.

I remember the good old days in blighty of direct debits to pay for it all and comprehensive maintenance cover. British Gas ? It would appear the boiler is not working. Tomorrow?. My good man I fear that is not good enough. I am not prepared to let my children freeze. You will come today or else. Or else what? Or else I will have to wait till tomorrow innit?

When is someone going to start this in Naija.? We need it oh.

And we are off....

As a blogger I generally tend to shy away from political commentary as there are so many who do it so much better. I learned very early in life that politics is a dirty game and you must be prepared to sacrifice all -even your life (RIP Benazir Bhutto). It is also not a game I understand too well as I still dwell in that plush estate called "naivity and ignorance" - head for VI, make a left and you can't miss it. However, there are some things that pierce my consciousness that just cannot be ignored as they refuse to let the mind settle and be at rest and here we are only in the third day of the new year. Damn these politicos.

First up - Mr Ribadu is sent on a course. As we all know by now the Chairman of the EFCC is being sent on a course just when the EFCC was making great srtrides in tracking down and arresting the thieves with benefits we call governors. It is whispered that this is all a plan to ensure that Mr Ibori (one of the said governors) does not have to face the ignomy of being tried for the looting of state funds. Mr Ribadu is felt to be unreasonable in his continued quest for justice and the recovery of stolen monies. After all most government ministries survive on PR without really having to do anything but he seems quite determined to actually do his job. This is totally unacceptable and goes against all the principles of the game. So he has to go.

Apparently a "cabal" got together in London to plot his downfall. Imagine the conversation:

This Ribadu sef na wa oh. What kind of man is this? We send am Ghana must go he no gree. We send am Gucci. Na lie. Louix Vuitton. Ditto. What are we going to do?

Can you imagine I spoke to one Governor that was just about to transfer $100m to his HSBC account and the man was actually shaking in his shoes? I mean what is the point of being Governor if you cannot freely make these sorts of decisions without worrying about this Ribadu man?

Maybe we should arrange an accident for him? Or set him up with one of those Ashewo girls. We just need him out of the way sha as he is really blocking progress. That man needs to be taught a lesson. Wait a minute. That's it. Teach him a lesson. We'll send him on a course.

Much popping a Cristal champagne follows.

The whole ridiculousness of this action seems to have bypassed the Presidency. I mean the man was just re-elected in April\May for another four year term. Why send him on a course now unless something huge is about to happen i.e - prosecution and maybe conviction of Ibori?

As always we await news from the President as to how he will handle this brewing crisis although I do not hold out much hope. I was discussing with some friends last night and it then occurred to us that since his swearing in we had not seen Yar Adua make any speeches on TV or radio (as far as I am aware). Which is rather worrying in itself.

And on to the second farce.

The daughter of ex-President Obasanjo flies to Austria under an assumed name, false passport and visa to sign a contract with an Austrian company under an assumed name from which she will benefit under her real name. At the signing ceremony photos are taken. She then returns to Nigeria safe in the knowledge that nobody will ever be able to connect her, or her father, to this contract . This woman is the daughter of the ex-President, she is a serving Senator. What are the chances of the Austrians stumbling across her photo in the papers and saying to themselves "mmm Hansel and Gretel, this looks very much like strange lady that signed our contract. Surely can't be two people with a face like that". She claims that it was not a fraudulent act. She is absolutely right. It was a criminal act.

The EFCC is investigating. Ribadu is going on a course. I am going back to my safe enclave where things make sense.

A Century later....

This is one long post but please bear with me....

This is my hundredth post in bloggerland. I have subconsciously been saving it for today as I am very much into symmetry and I quite liked the thought of a hundredth post on the first day of the new year.

This post is all about reminiscing and gratitude for the long journey that the Almighty Allah has taken me on. Sometimes I say to myself Toks, you have not done badly for a boy from the backstreets of Lagos (or Bode Thomas). So where to start with giving thanks?

• I have to start with Allah without whom nothing is possible.
• I then thank my maternal grandparents whom I lived with for some time when I was growing up (this was during the phase when my mum thought I was getting out of hand and needed a change of environment - especially after the firecracker incident).
• I thank my paternal grandmother who every day and every night would regale me with the family "rap" that served as a constant reminder of who I was\am. Omo olowon la, omo tatan bulu, omo olowon la ton shi lekun fole. This is the only part that I can remember and translates loosely to the son of a rich man, brave and strong, son of a man so rich he opens the door for robbers (of course this was in the day sof the gentlemen robbers!)
• I thank my parents who have done their best for me through everything. They have never turned their back on me, I have never wanted for nought and I can never repay them a fraction of the blood , sweat and tears that they have shed on my well being and that of my siblings.
• I thank my friends with whom I grew up on Bode Thomas. I especially remember my friend Igbo leg, so known because no matter where he was positioned during our regular games of football the ball would invariably end up in the bushes. At one point we even recruited younger members of the neighbourhood to keep vigilance in the bushes whenever he played just to ensure a swift return of the ball. That boy was a legend on the street and I wonder where he and so many others are now?
• I thank Mrs Omolulu and Mrs Branco who nurtured me at Adrao International School.
• I thank the boys of Igbobi college (UP IC) who were in my set and were my friends - the dearly departed Adefusikas, the Ibrus, the Majekodunmins and all the rest.
• I thank all the friends that have guided my life through my 13 year sojourn in the US and my 20 year adventure in the Queen's realm (ps I was a just a child when I left Naija oh).
• I thank Iyawo for bringing a different dimension, colour and perspective to my life. I mean I can now eat, mushrooms, sushi and lasagne without wanting to puke. I can actually visit a museum and get some enjoyment out of it. I can wear my white loafers and she will still stick with me (albeit from a distance).
• I thank my wonderful kids for their love and understanding during the past hectic and mad two years. I thank them for the trust that they have put in me and only pray that I can give them twice the life that my parents gave me.
• I thank Jeremy for turning me on to blogging and allowing me to have an outlet for all my musings and madness
• Finally, I thank you all for sharing the ride (even you Anonymous). Here is to another year and another hundred posts.

To end (I did say that this was going to be long) I leave you with one of my favourite poems ever)- Desiderata. Enjoy. Happy New year.

-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
as far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Twas the night before XMAS.....

and all through the house, Iyawo was pacing like a cat on a hot tin roof. What could be the cause of this behaviour? Was she worried about Santa not delivering her presents? Was she now worried that not getting me a present - "after all what can you get for a man who has everything?" would come back to haunt her in less than 24 hours. Note to Iyawo - you can never go wrong with Halle Berry. Even for the men who have everything.

It turns out that she is fretting about the number of guests who will be descending on our humble abode for XMAS. See as a Muslim, XMAS for me is all about eating orishrishi, yanfu yanfu and the same goes for my family as we celebrate with our Xtian friends. So Iyawo has proposed that we get a few close friends and family round for some nourishment and good times. I had accidentally mentioned this to my sister and this is when the palaver started.

Ring, ring. Hello.

Sister :Toks you know that your second cousin's, sister's brother's aunt that you have not seen in years?.

Me: erm yesss????

Sister: Well she is coming to your house on XMAS.

Me: okayyyyy. But it is just her right? She will not be bringing her husband and children and that her cousin that always causes trouble?

Sister: Of course not. Don't be silly. She will not bring the cousin that causes the trouble. ...its the other one. Bye

Me: Hello?? hello??

Ring. Ring.

Me: Hello

Stranger (but related in some way or other): Uncle T. How show? So what time should we be there tomorrow? Aunty K said like in the afternoon but I wanted to be sure sha.

Me: We who? Is it not just you? (whoever you are)

Stranger (but related in some way or other): Uncle T. Very funny. See you tomorrow.

So it was that I started to sensitise Iyawo to the possibility that just maybe there might be more than ten people coming over. Then I dropped hints about twenty. Dark mutterings about thirty. Coughed out fifty just to over exaggerate. Needless to say after having planned a meal for a dozen. Iyawo was a bit stressed about the imminent arrival of four. This necessitated several emergency trips to Shoprite. I can honestly say that what I was seeing in her eyes that evening was definitely not love. I have seen thatlook before. On CSI. On Crime & Investigations. On Sky News. But definitely not on XMAS eve.

Naturally yours truly slept like a baby that night. Peaceful are the innocent. Abi no be so?

Come XMAS day the place was like Grand Central station or Cele bus stop at closing time. At one point I banned the guards from ringing the bell any further. Just bring them in. Oh Iyawo was in such a state. Counting left over chicken pieces and cornering me at every opportunity to ask exactly how many branches there were in the Toksie family tree. Food was evaporating off the table like no man's business. (Note to anonymous - we had rice, fish, lasagne, chicken, beef, small chops etc. - Naija stylie). Me I just took the serene view that when food finishes, it finishes. How for do? But Iyawo likes her organisation oh. Things have to be just so. She even stressed the chap doing the cooking so much that when she told him that he could have a drink she came back later to six empty bottles of Star beer (and a much more relaxed chef).

And still they kept coming. From the main cooking we then moved on to throwing the sausages that were left in the freezer on to the barbeque. Another pot of rice hit the stove. Another glass of wine hit the back of Iyawo's throat. Another dagger in my heart (thanks God it was only metaphorical). This was a good time to escape outside with awon boys. These are the Muslims who drink and smoke (but out of sight of Mama Toks obviously). Champagne was uncorked and gist began. This is where we were till 11.30 when the last guests finally departed. Forcefully. If I might say so myself.

By this stage I was well over the limit having consumed a small glass of champagne and a drop of Baileys on the same day. Talk about living dangerously.For me this was really pushing the boat out. My yearly alcohol intake in one go. Iyawo looked at me with a new found respect (at least one of the four Iyawos that I was seeing at this stage anyway) My eyes were not the only thing that were rolling. I was lilting from side to side. It had been a great night.

Iyawo was adamant the next day that she would prefer XMAS abroad next year. Or at a friend's house. Any friend. As a matter of fact they could be perfect strangers as far as she was concerned.

Merry XMAS to all....

We had friends and family around yesterday and it was fab. Our first XMAS in Naija in our own home and it was just so nice. The chefs made some food that was just off the scales. The lasagne was truly historic. I have put a CCTV camera on the fridge to keep an eye on the leftover just to make sure no one gets their grubby mitts on it! You know how these children are oh.

Have a great break.

A week in the life.

So yesterday over to VGC for the Kids XMAS party. I love kids. ReallyI do. But just my own :->. Not 200 of them. Screaming, shouting, fighting. Being kids. I mean grow up! Actually it was quite good with all the bouncy castles although they could have had more things due to the large number of kids. Anyway, I ended up in the queue for popcorn. Now when I say queue I mean there was a main queue and then several tributaries. The good thing was that the two guys serving the popcorn were strictly serving the people in the main queue. But it did not stop the chancers from trying their luck. Kids and adults (mostly their nannies).

Now being a big guy it is not very difficult for me to oppress. I mean when I frown face even grown men fear. But you think these kids gave me face? For where? I mean one kid even moved my leg back so that he could insert himself in front of me despite all my grumbling and clearing of throat! He was like- yea whatever.

After about 30 minutes of queueing -note to organisers - two oldish popcorn machines to serve 2009 kids is not a good idea- I was just about to reach the front of the queue when this "lady" came over, saw her son on the side of the queue and started asking why he had not been served. One of the nannies in front of me had the "nerve" to tell her that it was because he was not in the queue. Cue (pardon the pun) explosion. How dare you tell him he cannot be served because he is not in the queue? Is it not only popcorn? What is the big deal? I was going to explain the big deal to her and point out that she was setting him the wrong example but thought ah what the hell. Save the ammo for bigger battles so I let her continue to hiss and cuss and prattle on whilst her son remained unserved.


Over to the girls school to watch the XMAS play. Arrive to find two leather chairs at the front of the hall behind which the standard folding chairs were lined up. What are the folding chairs for I asked? VIPs my daughter responded. For a school play? Am I not a VIP with the amount of cash I am forking out to the yeye school? A memo is winging its way to the Headmaster tomorrow. What message is this sending to the kids?

Over to my parent for a visit. My father says my son has been telling him all about me. What did he say I ask? He said you had not been feeling well, he replied and when I asked him why he said "don't you know he is an old man and he makes funny noises when he walks "and then proceeded to demonstrate my funny walk. So what are we going to do my father asked him? "Oh he is okay now we have given him medicine!"

And so it goes.