The King And I

I was 5 years old and it was my big sister's 10Th birthday.

We had all woken up full of excitement as we prepared to welcome a bevy of friends, guests and entertainment to celebrate my sister's first decade on earth.

Part of that excitement was the knowledge that there would be ample opportunity to dance to the music on what would become the best-selling album of all time.

Thriller.

An album with songs like Beat It; Billie Jean; Wanna Be Starting Something and of course the track that shared the same name as the album title. This is the earliest I remember my relationship with Michael Jackson starting.

This was a few years after the release of the album of course but in mid-eighties Lagos, Nigeria this was still the hottest and most played musical album ever. Combining funk, disco, soul, soft rock, R&B and pop (I lifted that straight from wikipedia), Thriller was not only a musical phenomenon but a dance extravaganza for us little kids who were born with soul and style in our little bodies. (If I do say so myself)

And I guess you could say the same about the Man himself.

King of Pop, Wacko Jacko, Peter Pan, whatever he was called, there was almost universal acclamation that this was a gifted genius. A gifted tortured genius but a genius all the same. I do not need to point out here how he revolutionized the music industry and became the biggest music star the world had ever known, all this has been covered much better and much more eloquently than I ever could. Not just his genius and his impact, but his slide into notoriety and the court cases that drew as much media attention as any of his world tours.

Fast forward to the "Bad" album and I remember my cousin Moyo and I ad-libbing to the song with the same name and pestering our mothers for black leather outfits with lots of silver rings on it. (We never got them). "The Way You Make Me Feel" tweaked open the door to the world of adolescence and Smooth Criminal ensured I would stay in it for a decent period.

Just in case there is any doubt, I am once and for all time a die-hard Michael Jackson fan. And it was always very hard for me to watch the way we devoured him with our adulation and attention. This was a man who was a victim of his own success. In every sense of the word!

Performing since the age of 5, a hit No 1 at the age of 11, forced to grow up in full glare of the world, brought to us by a media that fed fat on our insatiable appetite for more and more of him. Like my father-in-law said to me when I spoke to him a day after Michael's death, Michael Jackson was a gift to the world. His own happiness and mental well-being were secondary to his true purpose on earth. Which was to entertain and enrapture us.

And this I think captures what a lot of his detractors missed. There is no way it is possible for such genius to spring forth from a normal psyche. His non-existent childhood and unique experiences contributed directly to the sheer awesomeness of his being. Such genius ALWAYS has a price. Ask any genius.

And so this is to toast the man who would make 6-year old Ladi spring from his bed first thing in the morning and attempt the Moonwalk. (Constantly startling my brother who shared a room with me.) To the man who never actually grew up to become a man and remained (emotionally) at the age of pre-adolescence. The man who broke all barriers and had cross-over appeal no matter your race, origin or musical taste.

Like one of the articles on the Time Magazine website said, it didn't matter what you thought of him, when MJ wore those skinny black pants and white socks and did the Moonwalk, he was the coolest man on the planet. And we all wanted to be him. And for one glorious night 3 years ago, I was him!

Adieu MJ

PS
I have bought his entire musical collection.

My Big Fat International Network

I have about 30 first-cousins (give or take a couple) on my father's side alone.

As a child I was always eager for the next family gathering where the full range of uncles, aunts, cousins, second cousins and in-laws were always on hand to tease, lecture, make fun of, and scandalize each other. Stories grew into legends and epics after being repeated over and over again over the family dinner table. And almost all the stereotypes were represented in my quite extensive extended family.

The quiet head of the family, my dad's oldest brother who never said much but was deeply respected across the family. The larger-than-life uncle who had a booming laugh and almost always talked in capital letters. The rakish younger uncle who cracked up his nephews and nieces with fabrications dressed up as true stories; the aunt who was famous for her verbal missiles but who no one quite had the gall to confront her about it; the cool successful cousin who all the mothers held up as a measure of how we should aspire to be like... you name it, it seemed my family had the whole caboodle.

But as is the nature of the current world, such family gatherings have dwindled in the last few years and this is in no small part to the dispersion of family members to corners around the globe. London, Oxford, Birmingham, New York, Durban, Kansas, Atlanta, Boston, Libreville, are all cities that play host to an Ajayi. Current and former. And of course the Ajayi family even manage to have a representative in Aotearoa as well.

So a pretty international-based family.

And then add to this my friends. During my time in AIESEC, I shared intensely deep experiences with individuals from across the globe. A lot of these experiences at 10-day conferences and a lot when I lived in Stockholm, traveled a bit around Europe and met such an amazing spectrum of life-stories, passions and learning's which were all wrapped up in the unique idiosyncrasies of each individual person. I used to boast to my friends here in New Zealand that there was nary a country Europe I would visit and not be able to count on a couch to sleep on.

Or at least there would be if I kept in touch with any of these people.

I have been enjoying married life so much with my queen that I find I have been retreating away from the single most important item that I took away with me from AIESEC. My network. And it seems so silly in this day and age of twitters, facebook and skype that I am not in constant, daily contact with people who have made the tapestry of my life like a coat of many colours!

And of course I must not forget the "friends of my youth", those I grew up with and have known outside my AIESEC crowd and who are mostly still back in Nigeria.

So this coming week, I will be spending a whole lot more time on the phone, Internet and email to try and strengthen those contacts I have made and who knows maybe even make a few more. http://nomadlife.org/ is an especially good tool to just catch up on what people are up to and Facebook makes it even easier to actually get in touch and communicate with people.

So, if we have ever crossed paths in the past, you just might be getting an email, phone-call or maybe just a comment from me on your FB page in the coming weeks.

(I have almost a thousand friends on FB, suffice to say not all the people on that list will be hearing from me. Unfortunately)

Much Ado about Swine Flu

No I don't have swine flu.

But apparently, the particular strain of influenza making the rounds of the global community is now a pandemic. A Pandemic is apparently like the grandaddy of an epidemic. Communicable disease gone rogue. And New Zealand has been in the eye of this particular storm.

When the disease first surfaced, New Zealand was one of the first five countries with confirmed cases courtesy of a group of students who had just returned from a school trip to Mexico. The measured response and clear procedures for tracking, isolating and treating the disease were very impressive to watch and observe. I had a phone conversation with my father about that time and we both concluded that it would be... unfortunate... if such an epidemic reached the shores of Nigeria.

Anyway, from the less than half a dozen cases first recorded some weeks ago, it jumped to 23 then 71 and as of this morning (NZ morning) there were 81 confirmed cases of Swine Flu in the country. One primary school in the Auckland region closed down and sent all 145 pupils home.

So far nothing to worry about.

This particular strain of swine flu appears to be mild, its no more worse than the normal flu which according to the NZ Herald will send about 31,000 people to the hospital anyway in peak winter season. (one of the bewildering things about this to me is why the strain has killed so many in Mexico).

Since winter is just settling in on NZ, then it pays to be wary. Especially when wikipedia tells me that the Influenza pandemic that killed millions and affected a THIRD of the world's population in 1918-1919 was actually a second wave of flu. The first one hit without much impact, scurried off to wherever it is that flu epidemics go for holiday and came back to kill millions in a much more virulent episode!

Which is why I tried to send home one of my guys at work today when he turned up sniffing and sneezing to work. The Fonterra Chicago office was apparently closed as well when one staff member tested positive for the flu.

And which is why I nearly asphyxiated myself on the bus home tonight when this guy in the front row started sneezing without covering his mouth. I held my breath through 2 stops you see. Even though I was at the back of the bus.

New Zealand has one of the tightest border controls in the world and the government is concentrating on two strategies of "border control" (keep it out) and "cluster control" (stamp it out)

So for now, I have bought me a huge bottle of dettol hand sanitizer and will nod, smile heartily and walk past people very quickly rather than shake their hands and hope I hear people sneeze around me so I can hold my breath.

I wonder how much Tamiflu costs.

Eko for Show

If you google Lagos, you come up with results for a maritime Portuguese city that back in the 12Th and 13Th century served as a maritime expedition point for Portuguese explorers who sailed across the west coast of Africa.

They apparently made it to my neck of the woods and named the city of my birth for their port of origin.

Wikipedia tells me that a specific explorer, 'Rui de Sequeira visited the area in 1472, naming the area around the city Lago de Curamo'. Yoruba settlers from along the Ogun river had however lived in and around the creeks and lagoons of the south-west part of present-day Nigeria and had given the name "Eko" to the area. If you want to read more about it... click here

I mentioned about 2 posts ago the hullabaloo created in my office when Lagos was ranked very low in an index of cities measuring live ability. I asked for pictures, evidence and photos to show on this corner of the blogosphere that Lagos was innovatively trying to shed the bad rep it had acquired.

In response, I got this very delightful news item below from CNN sent to me:




When anything exciting, momentous or eye-catching was happening in Lagos, the title of this post would be heard from the mouths of anyone describing the events. Sort of similar to "Viva Las Vegas"

One saying that has been adopted by the current Lagos State government is in Yoruba (my native language) and goes "Eko o ni baje". Literal translation means Eko will not spoil.

The news items above makes me believe it.

Sometimes Growing Up isnt all That...

I hate being an adult sometimes.

I miss the carefree days of my 'youth' when the most important thing in my life was getting to the next AIESEC conference or asking out that gorgeous girl in my class.

Now the inescapable facts of adult life like bills, taxes, career-path, family responsibility all want to suck one down into that cliched but true phenomenom called the rat-race.

You also have to deal with death differently.

My friend Tokunbo Dawodu died last week.

I guess you could say I have been lucky that growing up I never had to deal with the death of a close family member or friend. And even when you are a child and someone dies, there are a lot of coping mechanisms available, "She's gone to be with the angels".

I met Tokunbo some 11 years ago when we were in University together. He was a member of AIESEC and together with Kwesi was one of those I looked up to when it came to the art of chasing girls. I remember him joking that he never drank alcohol because a civil war was liable to erupt if he ever got drunk and started spewing the names of the girls he had been involved with.

You would think he was quite well hated for being such a play-boy but the opposite was the case. They all seemed to love him just the same. Perhaps some of it came from his unpretentious nature and his wide smile must have gotten him out of trouble more times than he would care to count.

And to have such a fantastic human being drop dead for no apparent reason makes me wonder what its all about. No parent should have to bury a child and my thoughts go out to his dear mother. I am having trouble making rational sense of it all and this is just me, I do not want to imagine what that is like for his mum.

I will always remember the bus trip we took together from Ibadan to Kano to attend the AIESEC conference. We joined the AIESEC Ife group and it took all of 15hours. The romance and togetherness shown between you and your then girlfriend was a delight to watch on that trip. And it set the standard for the sort of relationship I wanted to have after that.

Tokunbo was a gentleman and always fun to be with. And I do not say this because he is dead now. He really was. A trained lawyer and resident of the greater Manchester area, Tokunbo will be sorely missed by a whole lot people chief among them, me.

Wherever you are now Tokunbo, I hope its a better place and I hope we meet again someday. Adieu my friend

...Not so Good for Lagos

I practiced being rude on Friday and also put someone in an awkward situation.

So the Economist Intelligence Unit had ranked 140 cities for 'liveability' and my current city of abode Auckland had come in 12th.

Lagos, the city of my birth however had scored a very disappointing but not surprising 136th position. Lagos was above countries like Harare in Zimbabwe and I think Lahore in Pakistan.

So on Friday, I overhead one of my colloeagues (who incidentally reports in to me) laugh quite loudly and he called another guy over and I overhead him point out the fact that Lagos was quite low on the ranking and he wondered if I knew about it.

It was a late on a Friday evening and I was struggling to finish some work before I went out for a much needed drink at the company social drinks and I just didnt have time to be the butt of what was frankly an insensitive jibe at my native city. But seeing that such social niceties usually flew over the indivdual in question's head, I steeled myself for the encounter.

Both colleagues walked over and started laughing and trying to explain that Lagos Nigeria was not a very nice city to live in and did I realize how bad a ranking the city had gotten. I had been preapring to give a nice little fake laugh, shrug my shoulders and "be a good sport" about it but in that split second, suddenly decided not to.

I schooled my features into the coldest, unfriendliest look I had and turned very deliberately from my work station to face them both. "What did you say?" I asked in a soft dangerous voice? (a la Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs); the second colleague who had been roped into this little mini-drama immediately sensed the danger and went very quiet.

The instigator however musnt have seen any good movies lately as to recognize the calm-before-a-storm demeanour I had put on and went straight on trying to explain how my dear city of Lagos was on the same level as war-torn cities and cities playing host to a schizrophenic megalomaniac bent on ruining his people.

"And you think this is funny because..." I asked in a slightly higher voice and thereby drawing the members of my open-plan office into the coversation.

He had finally caught on to the fact that something was wrong and his laugh wasnt coming out as smoothly or loudly as before. "No I just thought you might want to know that..."

"that the city of my birth where my parents still reside and where all my friends still are is not as perfect as can be?! And you think I would find this funny because...?????"

He was in a right panic by now and was stuttering and trying to explain away the unexplainable...

"Dude, if you dont have any work to do I would be more than happy to give you some" I said, subtly reminding him that I was going to be reviewing his arse at the end of the quarter. I turned back to my computer but not before I gave a quick wink to the second hapless guy who cottoned on so fast to the changing mood.

My would-be tormentor slunk back to his desk and the rest of my evening was immeasureably improved by the sight of his hunched shoulders and the quick glances he darted my way. But although he did come back later to apologize (I sniffed and waved my hand that it was ok) it didnt change the fact that Lagos did do very poorly in the ranking.

The five factors which were measured (traffic, culture, crime, infrastructure and I think education) are of course those things that are always highlighted as being wrong with Lagos.

However...

I hear that the executive governor of the state has been truly making a difference in the last 2 years. Seemingly intractable problems are perhaps not quite solved yet but a whole new innovative approach to solving it is been taken.

I would love for any of my friends/family resident in Lagos to please provide me some pictures, links, stories on the efforts that are being made to transform the mega-city that is Lagos. Part of my anger at my hapless colleague was in fact directed at myself that I had absolutely no defence to try and at least change his perception. All he knows now is that Ladi is a bit sensitive about the sorry state of his home city but the fundamental belief that Lagos is in a sorry state I did nothing to tackle.

This is the real tragedy I think.

The 12th Best City in the World...

...and I Live in it.

The Economist Intelligence Unit just released a ranking of 140 cities in the world which measures "liveability" and Auckland, New Zealand was number 12.

Six of the top 10 were either in Canada or Australia. See here for the abridged report

I will always consider my time in Sweden as some of the best EVER in my entire life but Auckland is starting to grow on me. Or me in it.

And yes I hope to be back doing this on a more regular basis. I have said before that how could I be living in AOTEAROA and having all these experiences and NOT blog about it? God forbid I become an old fuddy duddy...

...your favorite Nigerian in New Zealand is back!

So What Does an Obama Presidency mean to ME?

I received the most delightful email from a friend today.

His name is Kene Umeasiegbu, he works with Cadbury-Schweppes in the UK and we have been friends for a decade now.

He was there live in Washington DC for the inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama and I spoke to him on the eve of the day as he sat on a train "going with the flow" of people as they celebrated this most historic of moments

I have to get his permission to reproduce his email here on my blog but the gist of it, I can provide.

Kene drew a distinction between the different roles and identities that a single person can have. Father, Brother, Son, Idealogue, historian, global citizen, Nigerian. All different but still able to reside in the same consciousness.

The convergence of his (Kene's) role as amateur historian, idealogue and black man from Africa had convinced him that he HAD to be physically present for the inauguration of the 44th President of the US.

"SO where were you when Nelson Mandela was released from Prison; ...when the Berlin wall came down?; ...when the planes struck the twin towers?"

Kene's email concluded by asking the rhetorical question, "What does the inauguration of Barack Obama mean to you who witnessed it?"

First let us get one thing straight. This is a uniquely American event. Only in America is this actually possible that a member of the minority racial group can aspire AND attain the highest office in the land when his father would probably not have been served in a local Washington restaurant a mere 60 years ago. Only in America I tell you.

At least for now.

I read an absolutely brilliant article on the Time Magazine website during the US election primaries that delved a bit more into this point of view. It seems ludricous to imagine a 3rd generation Briton of Pakistani origin becoming Prime Minister in the UK. Germany has some 3 million Germans of Turkish ancestry and yet you can count on one hand the number of German-Turks in the German parliament. Ludricous to imagine one becoming Chancellor.

And yet 3 years ago, it was ludricous to think a guy with a middle name of Hussein would become President in America.

The article also described the sheer blatant racism still being faced in China by African students and talking about Africa, the whole continent has been a measure of tribal wars and genocide among disparate nations living within the same political contraption.

The Nigerian constitution states that you can run for elective office in a state as long as you have been resident in that state for 10 years. But in a country where you have Nineteen (19) distinct ethnic groups (Different language, different culture and history, all hobbled together by the colonial empire of Great Britain), practical realities guarantee that it is a pipe dream for a Yoruba man from the South-West of the country to become Governor of Kano State which is in the northern part.

Forget about it.

What am I saying?

A Yoruba man from Ekiti state cannot become Governor of Ogun State (which is also Yoruba). They will ask him if his father does not have a house in his 'home state'. Never mind the fact he has lived in Ogun state all his life and his father as well before him.

America has lost a great deal of respect and moral authority in the last 8 years. They are facing an economic recession which is the worst in many decades. (and pulled the rest of the world down with them), they are in the middle of two wars and they do not command that aura of invincibility that they had.

And yet.... by electing the first African-American to the office of POTUS, the son of an African student and a white woman from Kansas, they have shown to the rest of the world exactly WHY they are the sole remaining super-power in the world. That ability to re-invent themselves and constantly innovate in all spheres of life has been spectacularly captured in this historic achievement.

And achievement it is indeed.

So Barack Obama's election shows me that nothing can stop an idea whose time has come. That idea did not come suddenly and unexpectedly (maybe a bit unexpected ok!) but it has its foundations from the work of giants like Martin Luther King Jr, Rosa Parks and Lyndon Baines Johnson. The millions of people who marched, demonstrated and boycotted buses all across America for the dream, the hope of a just society. All these people laid the path for this historic event in America.

America has again led. It is time for us across the world to follow.

Picture of a Thousand Words

The topic of my recent nuptials to Temitope Aramide, for some reason leaves me speechless. At least in print. And I mean this in the most positive way possible!

It must be because I am still adjusting to the sheer awesomeness of it all!

It's been a 6-month hiatus from this blog and I certainly did a much better job of reporting on my brother's wedding more than 18 months ago.

I guess when you are in the eye of the storm... it becomes that much harder to 'report'. Unless you are Cristiane Amanpour of course.

Rest assured, my shared journey with this most perfect of women will come up for conversation on this forum.

If you want to see the full gamut of pictures, please visit the links below:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=52712&l=c70cc&id=508641537

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=52700&l=3aad1&id=508641537

Incalculable Power of Symbolism

"President Barack Obama and his team of writers... made refinements to his speech at Blair House on the eve of his historic inaugural address"

{Picture and words from www.time.com}

Barack Obama is a great man.

Before I tell you why allow me to share an email I sent to a group of my friends just now. It is reproduced in part below...

"...On a serious note though, we who have never experienced overt racism as a daily feature of our lives still have enough connection to the civil rights movement in the US through said stories, pictures and accounts of the period to feel awe, shock and dare I say it… hope that maybe, someday we could emulate this gesture at reconciliation and the catharsis of generations of injustices to a nation.

My words are chosen carefully because while an almost incalculable powerful symbolic gesture, the election of the son of an African immigrant to the most powerful job in the world is not an end in itself. As I heard on TV, Martin Luther King’s dream was not for the attainment of power by one particular race but a society where ANYONE can aspire to be anything he/she wants and be judged on the content of their character and not the colour of their skin.

Let us start to dream that Eche’s beautiful kid sister will announce her candidacy for the governorship of Lagos State and not be laughed out of hand. The constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria assures us she can. Realities guarantee it remains nothing but a pipe dream. President Lyndon Baines Johnson signed the civil rights bill in the mid-‘60s. It took another 2 generations for the ‘pipe dream’ and ultimate sign of symbolism to happen on the western side of Capitol Hill in Washington DC at 12pm Eastern time on January 20 2009.

Let us pray and hope that Barack Hussein Obama’s shoulders are wide enough for the responsibilities and hopes of future generations.

The hard work begins now for him…

Barack Obama is truly a great man because he has caused me to come back to this space to start to share my ongoing journey in life once again. A journey with such a unique perspective. If I do say so myself.

I had almost forgotten what it feels like to express myself through words written on paper (or typed on a blog).

Musings of a Nigerian in Aotearoa is back!