Author - idolor

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Christmas Chronicles: Christmas day contest
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Christmas Chronicles: Arrival & Registration
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Christmas Chronicles
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2016: My book list
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The colour of giving
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In NaNoWriMo’s end is my beginning…of daily doodling
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The U.S 2016 Elections: Donald’s Trump Card
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Working that muscle
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The older I get, the better I was
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Are you my mentor?

Christmas Chronicles: Christmas day contest

I can’t remember the last time I swam – properly, effectively, consciously. Not that I can do it that well. I didn’t get to swim much while in the pool with the children on our first day here. My role and my brother’s was to ensure no one got hurt and we all left the pool the way we entered into it – happy, healthy, refreshed, alive and in one piece. So on our return, on the third day, to the pool, my brother and I were a little more self – centred. Indeed we kept an eye on the children but we were there for our own pleasures as well. In addition, my main concern, Chairman, opted not to swim; he stated he’d watch us. Something about the water being too cold and too deep. I am more of a badminton player than a volleyball participant.But there was a net in the pool, so volleyball it was. It started off between Jnr and I ; then a brother and sister joined us. A friendly game became a lively, fierce competition between two unassuming women and two confident men. A contest that drew a score – keeper amongst the children[…]

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Christmas Chronicles: Arrival & Registration

My mum tried to reason with the children; likening our arrival to the first day of a three (or in our case, seven) day conference. The agenda would have read something like this: Day one: Arrival and Registration of Delegates She wanted us to settle into our chalet, unpack and take a breather before, perhaps, exploring our environment and using its facilities. With adults, maybe that would have worked. The children were having none of it. Once their bags were safely in their rooms, they changed int comfy flipflops and hit the beach hard. Screaming and shouting. Shovelling and digging. (They were armed with buckets and spades). Sandcastles came up and … down. The waves first caressed their ankles before rising upwards and splashing into their necks and faces. More excited squealing. The sun was high in the sky, blazing hot. Sweat, mixed with salt water, streamed down our faces and hair. But no one seemed to noticed. The beach and its lure were all that mattered. At some point, when there was a momentary lull in the fixation on the beach, there was a period or two of beach volleyball. The children tried to learn the game from my[…]

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Christmas Chronicles

For us, Christmas is usually spent at my mum’s in the ancient town I grew up in. My siblings and I congregate there from our various bases, with our offspring, every year. Not in 2016. My mum had been with me since October this year and was not intending on returning home any time soon; she had other plans. So we made alternative ones. The kind that involved clean, healthy air, loads of activities and a totally different environment. Christmas this year was spent at the seaside. Think waves crashing loudly to the shore as the sound you hear when you wake up. The red brick chalets – either lined up in a row or in hamlet- style clusters. Palm trees and their fronds swaying lazily to the cool, gentle breeze. Squirrels scurrying up and down, and in between the trees. Monkeys merely jumping from tree to tree before landing, sometimes, on our roof. Guinea fowls treading quietly, unobtrusively ( in search of food) in order not to alert the attention of the milling humans. But no, the children see them and squeal with delight, frightening off the poor creatures. Goats and their young ones bleating across the greenery as[…]

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2016: My book list

When I did this last year – write about the books I read – I was quite disappointed, appalled even, to discover my magic number was 16. Just 16! In a full year of 12 months, I could boast of only 16 books; one per month, and I just managed to squeeze in four more for good measure. It didn’t help that my goal was a book every fortnight. My count ought to have been 24 if I had followed that rule rigidly. But here I was thinking in terms of 36 books since I would have surpassed my target. Obviously, right? The reality was rudely shocking. The same rule applied this year; and while 24 books was the target, I had to remind myself that the number wasn’t quite as important as the amount of knowledge and understand garnered from each; the continuous improvement of my writing and speaking skills, the honing of my reading habit; the inspiration it sparked towards my creative writings; the constant mental trips I embarked upon or the other benefits that came with engaging the mind in a packed volume of well structured, interesting words. Truth be told though, it would have still been[…]

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The colour of giving

Have you ever wondered why this time of year is splashed with mostly red? You see it on clothes, display windows, decorations, presents, hampers, and it’s the official colour code of Father Christmas. I mean, there are other colours associated with Christmas. Gold, green, anyone? Ah yes, green can be found on those triangular shaped trees. And someone did dream of a white Christmas. So the colour white is included but not for us in this part of the divide. Try a brown, dusty Yuletide instead. I digress. This morning I pondered about this blazing hue as the children donned on red t-shirts with red & white hats for their Christmas assembly. The other day, a recent photo of my baby nephew saw the chubby cutie in a bright – red onesie and a hat to match. Why the predominance of red? The colour denotes ‘danger’, ‘hot’, ‘stop’ at a traffic light, red – eyed/faced ‘anger’, fire – truck ’emergency’, and ‘code – red’ doesn’t stand for the opposite of any of the aforementioned. It’s also the colour of that life – giving liquid flowing through our veins. The colour of one of the most important organs in our bodies[…]

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In NaNoWriMo’s end is my beginning…of daily doodling

Exactly 11.59pm on this day last week, the frenzy of churning out 1,666 words everyday came to an end. I would know; I was a 2016 NaNoWriMo participant. Or so I thought. I started off great, reaching the set word limit; sometimes exceeding it to my twirling delight. The kind that makes you dance, twirl, shake, scream…you get my drift. My adrenaline was pumping overtime at this new and hectic challenge. Before then, my word count hardly exceeded a thousand, and I was quite satisfied with that achievement. You never know what you’re capable of until you try. Here I was cranking out (quite willing too) almost double my safe, comfort zone. Sadly, it lasted only in the first week. The second week came with symptoms of malaria (Noooooooooooooo!) and I had to begin medication immediately. The symptoms demanded that kind of instant action. Nevertheless, I attempted, several times, to continue penning. I never went past a line of illegible scribbling through a drug – induced haze. You realize just how much strength you need to do the simple, everyday things(you take for granted) when you’re ill. Who knew holding a pen and moving it along a paper (old –[…]

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The U.S 2016 Elections: Donald’s Trump Card

So the joke won the election. Who is laughing now? With this turn of events, does it mean: …Hillary is going on death roll? …that wall is definitely going up into the sky? …all minorities – African Americans, Hispanics, Asians, etc – should watch their backs? …Nigerians are coming back home(remember his comment about the Nigerian in Alaska)? …the migrant laws are going to be stringent enough to cause the kind of roar of the republican rallies? …the fact that one cannot handle a twitter account does not necessarily mean one cannot be trusted with the nuclear codes (buttons)? …Obamacare will be flushed down the toilet? …Putin and Trump are now BFFs, and Putin has direct access, free pass into the white house at any time? And to think the world anticipated a Hillary win. And to think Hillary was poised to make two more of several firsts: …the first woman president of the most powerful (are they?) nation of the world …the first first lady to return to the white house (like it’s her father’s) as president And there was Obama poised to achieve another first too: …the first black president to handover to the first female president (What[…]

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Working that muscle

A whole year’s worth of work. That’s how much I lost on this blog. A first time visitor here would think me unserious. And I would agree. After all the date of my last post reads August 31st, 2015. Yet, this month began so well. After deep introspection (along with millions of Nigerians) about the nation’s direction on its 56th year celebration, I mapped out my writing goals and intentions for October. Just as I planned, so did the universe. Boom! Sickness swooped into my body and I was out of commission for two weeks. 14 whole days! Of doing absolutely nothing but waking up and wishing I felt stronger. Not nauseous. Wishful thinking. October 16th dawned, and I was free and fit. Guess the first place I rushed to? The sinking feeling in my stomach when (I stopped my endless refreshing of the home page) reality sunk in was comparable to the nauseous one while I was sick. A year’s work (September 2015 – September 2016) gone. Poof! Like an illusionist’s bad trick. All due to hosting rights. Retrieving them all would be near impossible. I wasn’t certain of having all the original text in long hand. The pit[…]

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The older I get, the better I was

A friend’s t- shirt, back in the university, had that scrawled across it (beginning at the front and ending at the back). I wondered about the statement every time I saw it. I mentally compared my vainer, younger self with my ever – growing, worldly – wise older self. Cuter? Yeah. More hair? Yep. Easier life? Definitely. Carefree? Uh hu. Eager to please everyone? Oh yes. More organized? Yes. More selfish than a cat? Check. Quite shallow? Oh yes. So superficial? You got it. Prim & proper? Yes, yes, yes. Large helpings of impatience? Yeaaaaaaah. Bashfully shy? Loads. Read voraciously? Uh hu. The more I compared, the less I liked the outcome. The statement didn’t hold true for me. Scratch that. I didn’t like that it didn’t ring true for me. I wanted it to. So badly. Almost two decades later, this thought has gone through a total transformation. I think of that inscription today like I do every year on my birthday as I begin to compare last year’s me to this year’s. Today, yet another birthday of mine, is no different.               On becoming a vulture. I prefer the woman I currently[…]

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Are you my mentor?

Are you my mentor?                 Apparently, Sheryl Sandberg doesn’t like anyone asking that question of someone else. Yes, I’m still on about her book Lean In. Go read it if you haven’t. She encourages her readers to ‘excel and you’ll get a mentor’. As I read that line, I bit my lip knowingly. I plead guilty to asking that question because I once had a mentor more than a decade ago. My first job was at an NGO geared towards encouraging and supporting entrepreneurship amongst youths and adults. To facilitate its numerous programmes – classes, workshops, mentorship, trainings, etc – it recruited volunteers from all works of life in their professional capacities to share their expertise, to teach, to mentor, to consult. And whenever there was a workshop taking place, most staff pitched in to assist the department responsible for organizing it. Often, I’d offer to register participants or write up mini – bios for all the speakers. That day I chose to write. His resume was the second amongst the small sheaf of papers given to me. As I put his qualifications and experiences together, unconsciously my mind wandered a bit. Blame it[…]

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