Nonsense and Ingredients

Nonsense and Ingredients is a collection of short inspirational stories about the day to day lifestyles, opinions and values of Nigerians. It’s aim is to help us unbag ‘unhealthy’ thoughts and notions (Nonsense) so as to take in the healthy ones (Ingredients).
In summary, it is a category that covers pieces on personal development and not yielding to unhealthy status quo

How Much Does Your Certificate Owe You?

Until, 2014, my year of internship, I used to think that life was JUST about graduating with a good result from the only indigenous University in Nigeria.

For you see, I was a good student of all my teachers. I had stopped lending notes to some course mates, because one returned it after the exam.

My project supervisor took pride in reading my work.  After the eighth read, she ‘abandoned’ me in the hands of an external supervisor, who took me from my comfort zone to the land of clinical pharmacology.

“Why did you use Cimetidine?”
“What did you think made the alcohol group develop deeper ulcers?”
“I see you have also written in the embryology of the stomach, would the dopamine content from this extract…”
“Why use Aspirin as negative controls? Why not Indomethacin alone?”

Defence, turned me into a ‘Daniel’. I survived enough to earn a handshake from my examiner.

***

2014 arrives:
So, I walk around with certificates looking for a place of internship. Ask another man in this profession about the tragedies of internship interviews…

Until, I find a system in this country, once headed by Cdr. O. R. Ochagu; where excellence was not exchanged for ‘Nna, put my guy in your list na?’ or ‘See me in my hotel room.’

I still carry the passion and the bitter-sweet experiences, from a system that made me. If I had worked where I wanted, maybe they would not have taught me the nitty-gritty of quality assurance, give me the full access to a computerized information management system; or learned me the importance of mortality and morbidity meetings and how to stand in front of uniformed men to make presentations. Believe me, there’s order even in military presentations and a unique style for taking minutes of meetings. That is why we are called B-L-O-O-D-Y C-I-V-I-L-L-I-A-N-S.

For once Oga Ochagu takes you on, he will disturb you until you bring his deliverables: worksheets, SOPs, presentations, Workload monitoring, Levey-Jenning’s chart, Occurrence reports, Root-Cause Analysis etc.

 

In that environment, refusing to run controls before running a test was a mortal sin. You could go to confessions to get your sins forgiven! Your penance was an ROB (Remain on Board). Your ‘born-again’ or ‘born-against’ was measured by bench-work proficiency. If you observed the patient’s sample closely during the procedure, you would find Omenụkọ there.

I also learnt that a system worked better if the core team collaborated to render the outside competition irrelevant.

 

Believe me again: nothing brings down a system like an unhealthy competition between teammates.  It is like all the players in a football team trying to score goals to impress the coach. Could this be the reason why I was made to draft an SOP on Conflicts of Interests?

 

 

***
2017:

Recession. Start-ups and Small businesses are booming. No one needs your plenty certificates…

But. Hey. That’s not it!

“I have a first class in Accounting!”

Gịnị mezia? Come and use the Sage Accounting software let us see?

“I have been selling ganja.”

Ngwanụ, explain the conversion rate in your ‘smarketing funnel’. How many strangers did you turn to loyalists?

For the first time in my life, this year, I had an interview, where I’d be tested for 1 hour on pure laboratory practicals. Who your grammar help, Chidindu?

“These are the tests you are expected to run in sixty minutes…” Mr. said to me….

***

Do not throw away your certificate o! I never said so in this post. You can use it to vie for a position as a local government council
.

Mmmh! One day, one day, you can use it to become the governor of Imo state, a town crier in Lake Chad or even a whistle blower in Ndjamena.

But we must know, that one of the keys to earning a fulfilled life, is summed up in these words by Bishop David Oyedepo:

‘Knowledge is not marketable. It is skill that you market. Skill is not a function of the papers you carry, It is a function of the tactics and strategies you engage in handling your assignment.’

 


I don’t know about you, but
#MyCertifictesOweMeNothing

 

Or, wait o!

Maybe we should owe it by owning up to it

A Note to Men

‘You know sey you nor dey quick last long for bed, Oga? Buy this one! Drink am for three days, you go normal!’ A man announces in the bus as I move down to take a seat. The bus is on its way to Oshodi from Second Rainbow.

‘Listen, Oga! If shame dey catch you to buy here, you fit call my phone number. My number na 080…’ The man continues. He deals in traditional herbs. Let me just call him the modern-day-herbalist.
‘Disgrace your infertility and your infertility will disgrace you! Drive away all sexual problems and they shall flee from you!’ He chants louder. I laugh. The man is all so serious. This is real business.
‘If your sperm dey quick drop! If e nor dey drop at all! If e dey watery…No let shame catch you. What shall it profit a man, if his akamu turns to pure water, and his ‘something’ retires from active service in his ministry.
The woman next to me is searches through her handbag, like a church member whose Chinko phone accidentally rings at Mass.
‘Madam, wetin you dey find?’ I ask
‘No mind me, na my purse. I think dey dem din steal am.’ She replies
‘Oya! This side! Owo da…!’ the conductor shouts. I hand him the dirtiest fifty Naira note, I received from when I earlier alighted at FESTAC.
The woman next to me fidgets. She clips and unclips her purse continuously.
‘Madam, you never still find the money?’
‘I don see am. I just dey find change dey I fit take buy the drug.’
‘Drug? Do women now come with testicles?’ I thought to myself. She makes a sign to the marketer who in turn gives her the ‘wait’ sign with his palms. He quickly wraps up something in a black water-proof and passes it down to her. She passes the 200nira note to him in exchange for the concoction.
It seems she’s just paved the way for three other women in the bus. They send signals to the ‘drug-dealer’ and money is exchanged with a waterproof-wrapped-concoction.
I am an advocate for gender equity. But truth be told, women suffer more in bad marriages. If four women were bold enough to purchase ‘sperm-healing concoctions’ for their husbands, is this not a sign that the woman is carrying so much?
I am not married, have never married before. I also realise that only God gives children. Ehe nụ! If every intercourse came with subsequent conception, population explosion would become a serious issue.
***
I just want to address the men a bit. Not all men. Found men with unhealthy habits. So many things can make a man infertile. I am going to just talk about one.
Last week, I sat  the microscope to observe a patient’s sperm cells….70% were passively motile, 20% were actively motile, the rest were not motile at all.
Some that were passively motile had bad morphology-they had heads beating without their tales….Stories for another day.
If you are an XY chromosome being, but you smoke uncontrollably… Ama nna gị echidiala! You are cutting off your procreative ability. Do not wake up one day to blame your wife or to suggest testing your fertility on another woman.
Tobacco smoking comes with its own toxins: cadmium, nicotine, benzopyrene, orisirisi. These damage the genetic material of sperm cells (sperm density, motility, morphology).
The quality of your sperm a lot. Low quality sperm opens the doors for childhood cancers, miscarriages and birth defects. These toxic chemicals combined with alcohol smoking cause changes in the DNA which are passed down via the sperm to future generations. This means that if a smoker’s child never takes a puff, they might still carry the associated risks (spina bifida and cleft palate are part of such risks)…
Dear man, healthy habits are not expensive. Do not let the devil use you. Do not be the bio-weapon that will wipe out your descendants. Will your children be proud to be surnamed after you?

Church Prostitute

I used to be a Catholic. I went to Mass and Confessions regularly. I knew all the stuff in the Bible, traditions and magisterium… Yet, I got bored in church. Mass got too long. Church politics nko? The CWO president used Juju to get a position in the church. Some Catholic priests are paedophiles. If a Catholic woman marries a non-Catholic, her parents, who are Grand Knights of Saint Mulumba, could be sanctioned. They even worship Mary.

So, I left.
I went off to join the Anglican Church.

‘How can they be singing Psalms from morning till night? There’s a type of offertory for those who will receive communion. Kai, this church is ekpejuo can go! You don’t have to stay until the end of their service- it does not end. Just leave when you like. The deacon used juju to kill the canon.’

So, I left their church.
I went to Living Faith Church.

Ahn ahn! They use holy water there too? I thought they said they only believe in the Word? That they don’t do old testament something? The picture of their general overseer hangs everywhere in my boyfriend’s room. My own picture nor dey im house o! Na war o!’

I left.
I went to the Methodist Church.

Chineke God of Inyishi Ikeduru! They have a notice board for those who don’t pay tithes? They never cared that I could not pay rent or survive on my small pay. They would just publish the list and shame you till you pay your tithes.’

I left.
I went to Deeper Life Bible Church.

‘They don’t wear earrings. Na war o! They don’t play good music too. Judas Iscariot! How do people survive here? Their churches in Eastern Nigeria have Igbo pastors, but their accountants and money-managing committee are made of Yoruba men.’

I left.
I joined Redeemed Christian Church of God.

‘I cannot pray for one hour. I cannot cook too. My boyfriend’s hustle doesn’t pay like MMM. I cannot survive here.’

I left.
I joined Christ Embassy.

‘Those people nearly finished me with food. See, they cook here o! They will make you feel at home. Every believer here must speak in tongues. I even got a scholarship to their School of speaking in tongues in Aba. One day I started to doubt them. The Tongue-teacher told me that Australopithecus africanus is a Hebrew word that meant: dry bones will rise again. Their girls overdressed. Their men permed their hair…’

I left.
I went to assemblies of God.

‘Somebody cannot have boyfriend here in peace! They will give you back seat. Beht the pastor’s daughter is dating the owner of that night club at Ebute-Metta. Nonsense and Impediments!’

I left
I joined The Lord’s Chosen Reveival Ministries

‘You wee nor believe it! You have to wear florescent green neon signs on your body all your life? Nope, I better go get a tatoo! Heaven at last ke? I will meet them there.  They even said I shouldn’t fix hair extensions of anykind. They said the devil has been deceiving people with Brazilian hair and attachments for braiding. Mbok, wool and thread, dem nor be attachment? The devil inside Brazilian hair, what stops it form entering wool and thread?’

I left o, my dear!
I joined Mountain of Fire Ministries.

‘Who will die by fire? Me or Mama Nkechi? Mama Nkechi who sold groundnuts to me with the bombom of cigar cup? She’s here shouting die by fire? God punish satan! This place is not for me.’

I left.
I joined Dominion City.

‘I did not go to church there today o. I nor get cloth. I have worn all the ones in my wardrobe. What will I be doing in church? Plus, I am in the choir. How do you want brother Handsome to look at me when I am not looking presentable? I cannot wear flat cover-shoe to church o, Chineke makwa!

So, I left.
I joined Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Ke ntak Obong Abasi! What am i doing here sef? Hian! These people wee just confuse me here. No wonder, my friend’s mother sent her dogs after them the other day. They insisted on preaching the word to her and she reluctantly agreed. When she could not listen to the Holy Trinity Heresy anymore, she opened Rockie’s cage to them.’

I left.
I went to Faith Tabernacle.

Hei! You can’t go to hospital here. Behti you can use herbs. Common open the gates lemme leave! People will be deceiving themselves. Is it not Aunty Onyinye who flew her son abroad secretly to go receive medical treatment? Mtchewww!

I left!
I carried my whole self home.

I have been home for just two weeks. I can’t even tolerate my self. I have my own secret sins. I could even die, if someone else heard about them.

***

Na wa o! Being alone nor good o! Behti all these people and churches are bad! They will just be using You to cover up!’

‘You sef you bad, my son. You too bad! In fact, nobody good!’

‘Baba, I know sey nobody good. Behti…

‘Behti e better make sick person dey hospital. Self-medication dey kill person, my son!’

‘Hospital? I nor get?’

‘My bride is the church that caters to the sick.’

‘So, your church na hospital?’

‘Hospital na for those wen know sey dem need help and fit take the help wen I go give them.’

‘So, why Christians dey do like this. Dem nor dey dey straight forward.’

‘Son, if all routes were straight in life, people would have died of head-on-collison.
See, the problem you have is that you go to the hospital seeking approval from other patients, whilst the doctor’s been waiting for you in the observation room.’

‘Hmmm, Bros J. Na wa you o! How I go sick, come dey watch people for hospital?’

‘Na so una dey do o. Na im make I tell you so. Focus! Christians dem dey more concerned about how e dey happen and who E dey happen for. Dem nor know sey e fit happen for them if dem dey focused. Spiritual communion is key. Love for neighbour too. If you come to my house expecting men to be God, you sef fit turn to animal.’

‘Egbon, Jesu Kristi. I don hear you.’

‘Oya! Report to the mercy seat before I change your parade to the judgement seat…Lol!’

*Even Jesus, laughs out loud.*

***

Christianity ain’t showbiz. It is deep! Philosophy cannot explain what this faith (wrapped in spirituality) offers.
And if you belong to a Christian sect ‘because of someone’, that ‘someone’ had better be Christ.

Nonsense ad Ingredients

 

 

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Everyone on the face of this planet has a struggle: a struggle to become… But does the society and her standards really allow us to breathe in the kind of atmosphere we create for ourselves? Is this not worse for women?

Nonsense and Ingredients is a collection of thoughts and stories that do not just challenge the negative views the society has of women but also highlight the need for everyone to be concerned and take on the baton of responsibility towards the role women play in the society.
This book will teach and entertain you. You may have a good laugh reading it but I urge you to learn from every page. Get a copy here.