Thursday, November 29, 2007

A Gathering Of Eagles continues through December-

Sunday December 2-
King Emene
Written by Zulu Sofola/Directed by Kenneth Uphopho

Sunday December 9-
A Restless Run Of Locusts
Written by Prof. Femi Osofisan/Directed by Sunkanmi Adebayo

Sunday Dec 16-
The Wives
Written by Dr Ahmed Yerima/Directed by Wole Oguntokun

Sunday December 23
Once Upon Four Robbers
Written by Femi Osofisan/Directed by Gbenga Adekanmbi

Sunday December 30
Morountodun (The Legend Of Moremi)
Written by Femi Osofisan/Performed by Renegade Theatre

All shows are at 3pm and 6pm

N2000 (Adults) / N1500 Students

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

The Guardian's still on strike but the Whisperer matches on.


as unpublished by the Sunday Guardian.

The Whisperer’s mother called him one day and looked at him for a long while, then she spoke. “You do know there is no perfect woman, don’t you? You’ll have to settle for one, some day. Just find a good girl and it‘ll be okay. ”. Like many men and women, I had spent my whole life, (since I was thirteen, actually) searching for the perfect mate, even though I was not the perfect man. Okay, I admit the Whisperer has moments when he feels close to perfection but doesn’t every one have these ego-filled moments? I had been flawed as a child by movies like ‘The Sounds Of Music’ and ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’ where love is so palpable and strong, you just know it will last for ever. Even till this day, I’m a sucker for romantic comedies and the perfect relationship. Somewhere in your heart, you know relationships are a bit more complicated than the film script makes it to be, but one hopes, longs for with all one’s being, and believes that one will find one’s own Snow White. Some perfect beauty, a Nicole Kidman or Vanessa Williams, beautiful inside and out, who will love us as we are, and accept us with all our foibles. She will not throw tantrums or go into a huff when we cannot afford to buy her diamond rings (her father’s too wealthy for her to be troubled by mundane things anyway). Her mother will be a beautiful, kind woman, accepting us as we are. In the cases of women who have these innate desires, the man of their dreams has the body of an Adonis, sculpted to perfection. He has the intelligence of an Einstein and the sense of humour of a Jon Stewart. Humanity always has flaws however, no matter how beautiful the packaging is, and the true definition of love might be the acceptance of another, with all his or her flaws and a willingness not to try to force our own ideals upon this person.

So I paid attention to my mother, the woman who had been the vessel chosen to bring the Whisperer to this earth but still, I did not follow her advice. Should the quest for the perfect mate ever be considered a mission impossible? Should we ever allow that dream to be taken from us?

It’s part of what makes life so much fun and totally zany, I think. The search for the perfect mate. This mate doesn’t exist, by the way, and there is no moment of absolute certainty, no matter how far you go in search of El Dorado, but the search can be a wonderful, event-filled thing. For the perverse minded, I’m not talking of a life of philandering and moving from bed to bed. What I’m talking of, is the eye you catch looking at you, as you turn a corner in your car or that person you know you might never have a chance to say hello to as he or she walks down the corridor, but who with a lilt of the head as he/she stands waiting for the elevators tells the story of your life.

Someone I think the world of did an analysis of me and my "girl whispering" ways a short while back and it made me sit and think of my own compulsions and the reasons I do the things I do. She said:
"I think you like women because you like them. Not because you want to have notches on your bedpost or anything but because there is something about the female form, female mind and female mannerisms that speaks(s) to you. Each female connects with a part of you, some much more than others."

It's as true as anything I have heard about myself and though I had tried to explain this many times to others, I had not been able to find the exact words for how it was with me.

So, for those who will continue the search for the Phantom Lover, who lives only in our dreams, we must remember that dreams tend to dissolve like clouds under the heat of the noon-day sun, and for all those who have woken up during the night and desperately tried to hold on to the bag of gold they discovered by the roadside or the wonderful partner they met while strolling, I tell them one thing, life can be hard. Still, there are people who exist, almost close to our own idea of perfection, whose flaws we can overlook, whose shortcomings do not disturb us. They are out there somewhere and here’s wishing you come across your own ’dream mate’, who will take on human form and accept you for who you are as well. Dreams can come true. Hopefully.

Monday, November 26, 2007


Comrade blew his top on the issue of the Big Brother Africa cover-up of sexual assault by the eventual winner of the reality show and the many excesses foisted upon Nigeria by citizens and foreigners alike.

Its a very fine piece and can be read here

Sunday, November 25, 2007

I play 5-a-side soccer weekly and after having dinner with the blogger, Toks boy, he expressed his desire to be part of this regular team. There was a mix-up however and toks had to get his first game in a long while playing with a team of strangers. Read his baptism of fire here.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Once Upon Two Robbers

I stood outside my home last night receiving a quick call. Apart from my regular cell-phone, I have a 'mobile' landline, like most Lagosians. A starcomms phone that has a fading signal when calls come through within the concrete enclave called my flat. So I walked out of the apartment, and out of the compound and stood just before the gate, watching passersby as I spoke.

I live in Lagos, so it should surprise no one that the transformer that supplied electricity to my street had been whisked away by power officials about a week before. It had a fault and we have no idea when/if we will get it back.

The noises of generators from all four flats had pushed me to step out of the house and onto the pitch-dark street to carry on my conversation.
There's something about my road, not many houses on it, but it has a bar that attracts all sorts. Three roads lead off the road as well. I love my home, even though I think I pay far too much as rent, the present set of tenants are the first ever to inhabit the practically new house. However, I dislike the road its on, too busy atimes and I know the secluded interior of the compound attracts the attention of those walking by.

So I stood talking by the dark road last night, seeing but not registering the man who stood five metres across the road from me. As I spoke on the phone, it suddenly struck me, that on this dark empty part of the road, the man who had stood casually opposite my gate was only about 2 and half metres away and walking rapidly towards me. A little to his side and behind, there appeared to be another man also approaching me.

I swore into the phone, "f&*%$&g s*&t" (I'm not given to swearing) and without thinking swung to my left in the direction of the bar and walked rapidly towards it and its bright lights calling our hausa security guard who sat with his hausa friend who sells sweets outside the neighbouring house, as I walked. My sudden movement appeared to startle the stranger approaching me and I could see for a few brief moments, he was undecided as what to do. He actually stood in front of our gate, just staring. Alhaji, our guard heard me furiously calling his name and rushed up asking what the matter was. I pointed to the men. By the time Alhaji got there, they had disappeared into the darkness.

What would have happened? I'd have been led into the house, gun pressed into the small of my back. I might have been asked to get my neighbours to open their doors too. Many things could have happened. My friend was robbed like that a couple of years ago, three streets away. Some young men followed someone into his apartment and held them all up at gun-point. My house isn't as accessible to srangers but I won't be so careless again. My brother, Jinta, when on holiday, is always bemused that I study passersby when he and I go around Lagos. You see why now, bro?

The moral of the story? Open your eyes wide no matter where you live. Don't sit in parked cars or stand casually in uncertain areas to make phone calls. And remember, only the paranoid survive.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Diary Of a loquacious blogger and road runner

Friday Nov 9- Was late for the opening of the Lagos Book & Arts Frestival.

Saturday Nov 10- Day 2 of the Book & Arts Festival. I get entangled in a discussion about Biafra by juggernauts such as Prof Chukwuemeka Ike (Sunset at Dawn) and Eddie Iroh (Toads for Supper and former C.E.O. of the Federal Radio Corporation F.R.C.N.) Eddie Iroh says views like mine will help heal the 40 year old wounds of the war. I meet the bloggers Tayo & Omo Alagbede (Son of the blacksmith). Also chat with the soft rock singer, CON.tra.diction (Tosyn Bucknor), daughter of the music legend, Segun Bucknor (Adan ri so gba so gba)

Sunday Nov 11- Watched the play, Midnight Blackout, at Terra Kulture

Monday Nov 12- Start sending out letters seeking sponsorship for "Theatre@Terra". Rehearsals of the play I'm directing for this Month's Theatre@Terra - "Wedlock of the gods" by Zulu Sofola hold at 3pm.

Tuesday Nov 13- Receive a call that sales of FCMB's shares close today. Can't muster the funds to buy some. I grit my teeth and pretend I never intended to.

Wed Nov 14- Attend meeting with MEDIACONCERN, one of the bodies aligned with KIND in the production of the new monologues. Flat tyre. Play "werewolves v. vampires" till I'm square-eyed. It's all I seem to do on face-book.

Friday Nov 16- Attend the weekly drama workshop I run for students of the British International School, Lekki (Bet you didn't know I did that). Went to Astro Turf for weekly football game. DIdn't start playing till 8pm.

Sat Nov 17- Helon Habila's book tour commences with a reading at the SIlverbird Galleria. It is well attended- spend time chatting with Ebun Olatoye (True Love). Kaine Agary (Yellow Yellow), Ier (try to pronounce that-Its a Tiv name), Peju Adeniran (The medical doctor/writer), Tosyn Bucknor, the bloggers- Ore & Lola, the actress- Omonor Imobhio etc
Don't I know any men? I don't, I'm the Girl Whisperer. Just joking- Tony Khan, Daggar Tolar and Deoye Afolayan were all present. By the way, the blogger Jeremy, co-ordinated events, his company (Cassava Republic) being publisher of Habila's "Waiting For an Angel". The pretty 'A' tells me she's addicted to my blog. I am flattered. I had no idea she'd ever been there.
This Girl Whisperer Article was meant to be published in The Sunday Guardian of November the 11th. Alas, workers at the newspaper went on strike and so did my blog even though I am not an employee of the Guardian. So Prousette, here's the article even though it's not published yet.

Big Brother, Big Blunder

The entire continent watched as the remaining inhabitants of the Big Brother House, the Angolan, Tatiana; her lover, Richard Bezuidenhout; and the Nigerian female, Ofunneka Molokwu, drank themselves to a near-stupor with alcohol freely supplied by the producers of the programme. The rationale behind this, in retrospect must have been the loss of inhibitions by the three remaining housemates. The plan worked to horrifying perfection.

As Ofunneka, the Nigerian medical assistant lay comatose from drink, the Tanzanian, Richard, in full view of the cameras spewing live footage into millions of homes appeared to use his fingers to penetrate the most private part of Ofunneka’s anatomy. And a new dimension was added to African television. No matter how much we claim to be liberal on this continent now, it is not a very African thing to grope a non-consenting female, as she lies asleep. A female housemate tried to stop Richard from ravaging Ofunneka, but the deed was already done. After a while, the good-looking dread-locked Richard, who appears to be short on intelligence even at the best of times moved away from Ofunneka, sniffing his fingers as he did so.

According to Joseph Hundah, an executive at M-Net, the Television company in airing the programme, "There is no indication that Ofunneka was unconscious at the time." These spin-doctors chose to control damage by insinuating that Ofunneka, who vomited from excessive alcohol intake before apparently losing consciousness, consented to Richard’s act.

The Girl Whisperer studied law, and can state some things on this matter. The first is that Richard performed the most essential element of rape under criminal law. Penetration. It would not have mattered if he had used a coca-cola bottle or pencil for his act.

In search of conspiracy theories, I already had issues with the terrible photo of Ofunneka showing her with almost mongoloid features. Then, the producers of the programme played out the ultimate conspiracy. They denied anything untoward took place, even though they had locked Richard away in the diary room immediately they noticed matters had gotten out of hand and sent in paramedics. They had also cleaned up sms messages scrolled on the programme, none indicating the ensuing outcry that followed Richard’s act.

There are many things to look into. A scandal rocked British Television a few weeks back when it was discovered that one of their four biggest stations, ITV, had manipulated the use of premium phone lines. Voting had been rigged numerous times on phone-in programmes, votes were not counted in some cases and people were allowed to enter phone-in competitions they had no chance of winning. It would be a good idea to look closely at the African penchant to use the same medium that has been proven liable to be falsified, in terrestrial and cable programming.

Ofunneka will come out of the Big Brother House to meet the outside world and have to live the rest of her life as the butt of crude conversation and gutter jokes. She, however, has a remedy in law against the producers of the programme if rape can be proven.
This is a criminal issue and the Big Brother producers should be held liable, as should the perpetrator, Richard the Dull.

Her dreams, if any, of making it big in the world of television and films have been brought to a crashing halt by several misplaced fingers. The public is an unforgiving one and even if a rape occurs every forty seconds in South Africa, land of the African Big Brother, it is not an occurrence that is as usual here. If this act had occurred in the Big Brother House in the United Kingdom, the British government would almost certainly have gotten involved and pressurised the end of the programme. Last year, a case of bullying and racism marred the Big Brother production in that country and the government intervened. Ours, watches and waits, because it is unfamiliar territory.

Ofunneka was forcibly retired from her dreams the moment Richard committed his act. She walks around the house still, not knowing, not realizing that for her in many ways, the game is over, permanently and their might be no coming back from the mindless act of the brain-dead Richard. It would be a wise thing for her to start her pension plans by meeting her family lawyers to ensure the producers pay for an incident that will haunt her until the day she dies.

Top Photo- laspapi (right) with the actor, Bolaji Alonge, at Kola Krakue's birthday get-together 8 days ago at the Alara House Of Pain and Pleasure.Middle Photo- Laspapi talks to Kayode Krakue

Bottom Pic- Some Members of the House of Pain and Pleasure- Eyimife Gold, Bimbo 'Benbele' Akindele

Friday, November 09, 2007


One of my closest and most trusted friends wrote in from the United States after reading the post above. We haven't met in years.

Oluwole O.Oguntokun, Olambiwoninu, Koselupa. I had to
respond to the above titled blog. I ran into your
blog a few months ago and from time to time I go there
to read about some "truism". Now I'm not a frequent
guest on the blogsite which explains why I just read
about the above (posted since July).

As one of your friends from the past, I do agree that
some people need to get a life. I believe people are
obssessed with the other person's past when they see
him living the kind of life they only dare to live in
their imaginary world. Personally, I believe laspapi
has come full cycle, an adult of which there are not
many around. When you live life to the fullest,
pursing your passion and exhibiting the principles of
"each man to himself, God for us all" -then you are
fit to be declared an Adult. How else do you explain
this "playwright, poet, lawyer, dreamer" all in one

I believe I'm one of the few that saw you for the real
person you are and it will only be proper to declare,
if only this once - that Laspapi has come full cycle,
fly on!!!

One last plea - do not not publish this or at least
make it anon, I think you really don't like anonymous
stuff, which is why I did not post this on your
blogsite. Just like you, some things about your
nature stays with you, I'm still a very quiet person
communicating only with those who can bring the words
out, like you.

Got to go, the people I work for in this part of the
world (my kids) just woke up. No luxury of aunty to
go and brush their teeth in readiness for breakfast.

Keep up the good work and keep in touch."


First photo shows the new Commissioner of Police in Lagos, Mohammed Abubakar (seated), by Funmi Iyanda at the show, New Dawn. Third from left and standing is laspapi. The C.O.P. had just been grilled by funmi on her show, over charges that his men were indiscriminately arresting females with short skirts or anything they considered indecent, as well as males with dreads and tatoos. Funmi herself had been harassed by some policemen as she rode in a car with Bose and Jide Bello.

The COP denied these allegations saying his men were under no such instructions. The madness on the streets stopped thereafter, however.

2nd photo shows laspapi (left) and Marcel Nwaogwu, a Clinical Psychologist at the Yaba Psychiatric Hospital on a New Dawn episode.

The Vagina Monologues, transcribed from hundreds of interviews with women by Eve Ensler has a primary goal, which is to stop abuse whether physical, emotional or mental, levelled against all women. It has been performed worldwide hundreds of times and has featured the likes of Glen Close, Jane Fonda, Salma Hayek, Sally Fields, Queen Latifah and thousands of other performers from all over the world. The Nigerian performances, sponsored by Hafsat Abiola-Costello's KIND (The Kudirat Abiola Initiative For Democracy) in 2006 and 2007 starred females like Joke Silva, Kate Henshaw, Omonor Imobhio, Iretiola Doyle, Elvina Ibru, Iyabode Olajumoke, Rita Dominic, Funmi Iyanda, Bose Afolabi, Teni Aofiyebi, Marie Ekpere and Azeezat.

The 2008 performance which will be adapted to feature issues that are not only universal but also African, will be directed by Wole Oguntokun. Some of you call him laspapi. There will be performances in Abuja as well as Lagos for starters, early next year. The Girl Whisperer as Artistic Director for the New Monologues? I knew there was a reason I wrote "Anatomy Of a Woman".

Photo shows Joke Silva, Omonor Imobhio, Iretola Doyle and Iyabode Olajumoke, all featured in the last performance. There'll be more details shortly.

Was on Funmi's show on Wednesday the 7th to discuss issues of the heart. Not funmi's or mine, but that of people who felt Funmi's wisdom and the practicality of the Whisperer might be of help to them.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Cyprian Ekwensi, dies at 86

Veteran novelist, pharmacist and public commentator, Cyprian Ekwensi passed on yesterday.

Cyprian Odiatu Duaka Ekwensi was born at Minna in Northern Nigeria on September 26, 1921. He later lived in Onitsha in the Eastern area. He was educated at Achimota College in the Gold Coast, and at the Chelsea School of Pharmacy of London University. He lectured in pharmacy at Lagos and was employed as a pharmacist by the Nigerian Medical Corporation.

He married Eunice Anyiwo, and they had five children.

After favorable reception of his early writing, he joined the Nigerian Ministry for Information and had risen to be the director of that agency by the time of the first military coup in 1966. After the continuing disturbances in the Western and Northern regions in the summer of 1966, Ekwensi gave up his position and relocated his family to Enugu. He became chair of the Bureau for External Publicity in Biafra and an adviser to the head of state, Lt.-Col. Chukwemeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu.

Ekwensi began his writing career as a pamphleteer, and this perhaps explains the episodic nature of his novels. This tendency is well illustrated by People of the City (1954), in which Ekwensi gave a vibrant portrait of life in a West African city. It was the first major novel to be published by a Nigerian. Two novellas for children appeared in 1960; both The Drummer Boy and The Passport of Mallam Ilia were exercises in blending traditional themes with undisguised romanticism.

His most widely read novel, Jagua Nana, appeared in 1961. It was a return to the locale of People of the City but boasted a much more cohesive plot centered on the character of Jagua, a courtesan who had a love for the expensive. Even her name was a corruption of the expensive English auto. Her life personalised the conflict between the old traditional and modern urban Africa. Ekwensi published a sequel in 1987 titled Jagua Nana's Daughter.

Burning Grass (1961) is basically a collection of vignettes concerning a Fulani family. Its major contribution is the insight it presents into the life of this pastoral people. Ekwensi based the novel and the characters on a real family with whom he had previously lived. Between 1961 and 1966 Ekwensi published at least one major work every year. The most important of these were the novels, Beautiful Feathers (1963) and Iska (1966), and two collections of short stories, Rainmaker (1965) and Lokotown (1966). He continued to publish beyond the 1960s, and among his later works are the novel Divided We Stand (1980), the novella- Motherless Baby (1980), and The Restless City and Christmas Gold (1975), Behind the Convent Wall (1987), and Gone to Mecca (1991).

Ekwensi also published a number of works for children. Under the name C. O. D. Ekwensi, he released Ikolo the Wrestler and Other Ibo Tales (1947) and The Leopard's Claw (1950). In the 1960s, he wrote An African Night's Entertainment (1962), The Great Elephant-Bird (1965), and Trouble in Form Six (1966).

Ekwensi's later works for children include Coal Camp Boy (1971), Samankwe in the Strange Forest (1973), Samankwe and the Highway Robbers (1975), Masquerade Time! (1992), and King Forever! (1992).

In recognition of his skills as a writer, Ekwensi was awarded the Dag Hammarskjold International Prize for Literary Merit in 1969.

Ekwensi, a one-time Commissioner for Information in the old Anambra State, is survived by children and grand children.

(Culled from The Guardian Newspapers)

Sunday, November 04, 2007

The Spirit In Man

I got a call from Funmi Iyanda a few days ago. The coincidence was I'd typed out my latest Girl Whisperer article a few minutes before, which centred around her philosophy but which hadn't been published in the Guardian yet. She wanted me to accompany her to the Alakara Juvenile Centre run by Magaret Ekpe, the Superintendent of Police whom I blogged about recently.

This policewoman has used her funds as well as all the help she can get to look after babies and waifs no one is interested in, through her juvenile centre. At some point or the other however, all who do this kind of work in Nigeria turn to Funmi. Through her programmes, she's raised funds, created awareness, lobbied governments and individuals and personally helped scores of children and families. I like to see myself as selfless and dedicated to humanity, rising beyond the call of duty when my fellow man needs me. Funmi's works leave me in the dust. Without bothering to tabulate it, she as a person, does in a year more than the average charity orgnization will do throughout its existence.

I am baffled when conversations about this female turns to what she's wearing, whom she's seeing and what prices her shoes are. Do these people know what life is all about?

So I got into my car and instead of driving to funmi's, went directly to the juvenile centre where she caught up with me. I had my comcorder along and tried to film stuff as Margaret Ekpe showed us around. There were children everywhere, and the obstacles faced by this centre were plain to see.

Margaret pointed to a ten year old dark-skinned girl, low-cropped hair, a child you would want for a daughter. She had run from a remand home and been raped by two area boys who caught her some dark night. She was now resident at the Alakara juvenile centre. She was quiet, subdued. As funmi knelt to talk to her, I hung my head. I didn't have the strength to look on. What words could I find for a child like this? But Funmi had. She spoke gently to this child and I wondered.

Another boy, about 10 years old too, who had never walked until he came to the centre. He was reed-thin, head lolling on his shoulders, limbs splayed out on the floor, head resting against the wood of a double-bunk bed, barely able to speak. When his mother died, his family had left him behind at the grave side, presumably to die too. They just left him there and walked away. A Minaj Broadcast International TV crew passing by, saw something in torrential rain as they drove past the grave, and investigated. It was this boy, head barely above the water, fighting for his life, unable to call out for help.
The TV crew rescued him and took him to the centre. He had learnt to walk a bit since then, but often fell, Margaret said.

As I watched, another child-resident, about 8 or 9 years old, put her hand as a rest for his neck that couldn't be kept straight. Then she slid to the floor to sit beside him, put his hand on her own leg and rubbed that hand, a universal sign for re-assurance, that everything would be okay. My camera was on her but in the noise and confusion of all the other kids, she had no way of knowing. The act was selfless and of God.

I thought to myself, "I have wasted portions of my life, for this is what life is about, giving a cruel world, meaning". Not trying to prove to Mr Jones that I'm better than he is because I own a BMW. A child showing another unwanted child that his family might not have wanted him, but she was there if he needed anything, told me all that's important in life.

My friend, Funmilola Iyanda is a great woman. As is Margaret Ekpe, the policewoman. They are lifted above the murk and mire that is so easy for man to wallow in. If you disagree, that's your own shalala. For me, there can be nothing greater than service to humanity.
The Girl Whisperer

as published by the Sunday Guardian

of Sunday November 4

A Cinderella Story

I often spend time talking to Funmilola Iyanda, my friend for many years and someone I think very highly of. If you can take your eyes off the striking good looks of this Queen of the Screen, you would be amazed at the ease with which she drops nuggets that can act as guides to positive living. One day, in a relaxed moment with other friends as well as myself, she said: if you want to eat rice every day, you have to learn to garnish it in different ways. This was in direct reference to fidelity and staying with one partner. I’d never heard the matter voiced in such a graphic manner and the imagery her words conjured has never left my mind. By the way, other words for “Garnish” could be decorate, adorn, pretty up, dress up, embellish, prettify and beautify.

A problem many people have is the inability to stay with one partner until the end of their lives, no matter what they proclaim to the contrary. For some men, even if they stay married or remain partners to one person, a major issue that troubles them is the tendency to want to sample the wares on the side, with roving eyes that lock like radar on passing skirts. By the way, there are many women who are guilty of this too, with eyes that size men up and reveal their speculations. However, I digress. Many of us have woken up with palpitations in the middle of the night, thinking, “Am I going to spend the rest of my life with this one person?” You may admit it to me, I am the Girl Whisperer, and few things shock me.

I once had a female declare to me, “Wole, I can’t stay faithful in marriage, I just can’t”. She married a while after and I sometimes wonder if she has been able to overcome that ‘slight’ inability to cope with pressure. Still, the adage goes, “know thyself”. Maybe she knew herself more than a lot of us do of our own ways.

So back to Funmi Iyanda’s Garnish Principle. Is it possible that by making yourself more interesting and attractive to your partner, you may remain together, forever, till death do you part, just like the story of Cinderella and the handsome prince? Is it the refusal of men to eat white rice daily, as we call that crop in these parts, which causes many a breakage in relationships? I have been eating rice all my life, really, and Chinese people would love me for my fervency towards their gift to the world, but then in retrospect, my love for rice might be because many things can accompany it or beautify it. There is always something you can add to rice, make it more interesting with. If you serve your child, white rice, morning and night, a bland and unappealing meal, someday he is going to run away from home. Really. You will find him at your neighbour’s dining table, eating food they have taken the time to plan for. Now, imagine the kind of food a grown man or woman would eat at the neighbour’s if you refused to be imaginative. You might be able to drag your child back to your own home but it might be slightly more difficult to get an adult to return once he or she has tasted real cooking.

Now it does not matter if your partner is a religious leader or the Dalai Lama himself. He or she needs you to reinvent yourself from time to time, make yourself more interesting so that as the days and years go by, there are pleasures you can derive from each other along the way. Now women have a universal trait; they think highly of men who stay in the hot kitchen as they (the women) cook in hellish temperatures, steam everywhere, pots overturned and boiling over, half-peeled potatoes rolling around the kitchen floor, vegetables wilting before one’s very eyes. Make no mistake; no man likes to be in such conditions even if he pretends otherwise, except he is a chef. It might sound chauvinistic, but I’m afraid it does not remove from its truth. So I advice: Finish your garnishing before you call him to see the finished product, do not lose the mystique by forcing him to watch the process. Do it subtly, make it appear easy and then you might add to your value.

Life isn’t always fair, and we do not all end up in the Cinderella story where our partners love us forever through good and bad times and we live happily ever after. However, you could give your relationship a fighting chance by starting today with garnishing that rice.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

The November schedule for Theatre@Terra in the month of November

Sunday November 4
written by Ahmed Yerima
directed by Kenneth Uphopho

Sunday November 11
Midnight Blackout
written by Femi Osofisan
directed by Taiwo Ibikunle

Sunday November 18
Who's Afraid Of Tai Solarin?
written by Femi Osofisan
Directed by Segun Adefila

Sunday November 25

Wedlock Of the Gods
written by Zulu Sofola
directed by Wole Oguntokun

All shows are at 3pm and 6pm.

Tickets: N2000 Adults/N1500 Students with I.D.)

Venue- Terra Kulture, Tiamiyu Savage St, Victoria Island

Scintillate, Scintillate
Dimunitive Heavenly Body
As I contemplate your essence

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
How I wonder what you are
The Apprentice!!! (Chude and his people are at it again)

From Biodun Shobanjo: 'You're Fired!'

The man called 'Godfather of Nigerian Advertising', Biodun Shobanjo has joined the A-list cadre of business moguls which includes the US' Donald Trump, UK's Alan Sugar and SA's Tokyo Sexwale as a consortium consisting of The Executive Group, Storm Vision and Bank PHB has unveiled him as CEO for The Aprentice Africa!

The debonair bow-tie wearing icon, Biodun Shobanjo, at 63, is Chairman of the Troyka Group, which is the holding company for Nigeria's biggest ad agency, Insight Grey, SKG2, Optimum Exposure, Media Perpective, MediaCom, Quadrant and Halogen, employing over seven thousand Nigerian men and women.

The Godfather is bringing this intimidating resume to bear in coaching 18 young African men and women on the principles of business, success and winning.

For him, "Winning is not the most important thing, is the only thing."

Applications are now being accepted from young Africans all over the world - people with brilliance and street-smarts. DO you have what it takes? Apply here

Friday, November 02, 2007

Be kinder than necessary. Everyone you meet is fighting
some kind of battle

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Responses via e-mail to The Girl Whisperer column in the Sunday Guardian have been very instructive for me. However, the photos of females placed on the page, weekly, have brought me to the attention of a different breed. See below.

hello u beauty is enugh for u to enrent a permanent buil in i know that angel do live here on earth your autogragh which i saw on magazine amaze me too much.i don;t want to admire from distant.i am Isreal Efeogr a staff of delta steta college of phsical education and general contractor as well.want is your name an phone number?my number is 0806........i want to know you proper.