Posted in Quotes & Poems

Supermarket Flowers

I have a friend who lost someone very dear. I can’t imagine what my friend is going through and I don’t know how to be there for my friend. Then I stumbled on this song by Ed Sheeran and I had to share.

 

 I took the supermarket flowers from the windowsill
I threw the day-old tea from the cup
Packed up the photo album Matthew had made
Memories of a life that’s been loved. Took the “Get Well Soon” cards and stuffed animals
Poured the old ginger beer down the sink
Dad always told me, “Don’t you cry when you’re down.”
But, mum, there’s a tear every time that I blinkOh, I’m in pieces. It’s tearing me up but I know
A heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved
So, I’ll sing Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you’d be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go
And when God takes you back
He’ll say, “Hallelujah, you’re home.”

 

I fluffed the pillows, made the beds, stacked the chairs up
Folded your nightgowns neatly in a case
John said he’d drive, then put his hand on my cheek
And wiped a tear from the side of my face

And I hope that I see the world as you did ’cause I know. A life with love is a life that’s been lived

So, I’ll sing Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you’d be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go, when God takes you back
He’ll say, “Hallelujah, you’re home.”

Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
You got to see the person I have become
Spread your wings and I know
That when God took you back, he said, “Hallelujah, you’re home.”

 

To everyone reading this that has lost someone; a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a friend . . . Never be afraid to think of them, remember them, let the good memories envelop you, let their words of advice sink in, be thankful for them and know that it is well. And when you feel down, believe that when God took them back, he said, “Hallelujah, you’re home”.

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Posted in Monday Muse

What Are You Angry About Today?

It is another Monday morning and I am smiling. Got the kids to their play date early, kissed Nonso goodbye before heading off to work. Coffee in one hand, briefcase in the other I was practically waltzing into the office.

“… I saw the tweet to oh” Ojo replied aggressively “imagine them asking if Baba is doing anything for Nigerians affected by the hurricane in Texas. Has that one finished taking care of Nigerians in Nigeria?”

It was always amusing seeing a man trying to roll his eyes the way Ojo did.

“Good morning people” I tried to share my cheerfulness.

“What is good about the morning now Kalu?” Haruna asked.

“Na wa oh. I can’t greet you guys again?” I asked innocently. “What are we angry about today?”

I knew better. I should have walked straight to my desk and drank my coffee and mentally zone out. Mba, Kalu Evaristus Ejiofor would not let matters be.

“Is it how NEPA forced me to sleep in this heat?” Ojo started

“Or how we are working on Sallah holiday?” Stella stated from where she sat at her corner. “Even arsenal players are on holiday oh”.

“Or the painful fact that your president is hiding behind ‘rats are in my office’ to use style to be resting at home?” Ojo added.

“Lets not forget those Nigerians that have lost millions in that hurricane. What will they eat? How will they survive?” Haruna stated.

“Since we are adding to the list, our educational system nko?” Anita the office cleaner/messanger joined the conversation as she came out the boss’s office. She had been cleaning inside.

“Gbam, government say 120points should be cuttoff for JAMB” Stella added.

“What?” Haruna shouted.

“Where have you been, this one is even old” Ojo stated. “Worse part is in the last PTA before my son’s school closed they said there would be an increase in school fees, edaukun where will I find the money?”

“I just taya” Anita said and it sounded like she was actually tired.

“Why the noise?” The entrance door opened and my boss worked in. Everyone quietly found a way to their seat.

“Let’s get ready for the business of the day shall we” he said and walked into his office.

I sat down on my desk and dropped my briefcase. I relaxed in my seat and took a good view of the office. Stella and Ojo whispering to each other about one of the topics mentioned, Haruna struggling with the coffee machine at one corner while Anita was heading towards the reception area.

I took a sip of my coffee and closed my eyes. For 30 seconds I was going to go back to 5minutes ago. When it was nice, when I was happy and I decided  I would try to make the best out of the day.

So I ask you on this fine Monday morning, what are you angry about? Lol

 

…photo from 123RF.com

Posted in From The Ancient City of Ibadan

My Ibadan Tale 01

I promised I was going to give you stories created from experiences in Ibadan. I know I took a while but here we go. Please note that it is mostly friction. I do hope you enjoy it.

 

 

I NEVER EXPECTED IT

 

It was one of those wet evenings were you had that chill that reminded you of your girlfriend’s warm skin. The rain had almost stopped falling and since we boys had been hitting the books really hard (plus we were all single or away from our girlfriends) we allowed Chigozie aka Chingy, my course mate and good friend to dragged us; myself, Bally (another friend) and Dotun my good friend and flatmate to a hangout in Samonda called Coffee & Grills. It was not our first time there, in fact it had become one of our favorite spots in Ibadan especially as Chigozie had a crush on one of the waitress.

Me and my ‘I don’t like keeping late night’s’ attitude, I had looked at my wrist watch for the fifth  time, it was already, 8pm.

Guy wetin dey worry you now?” I started to laugh as Chigozie signaled Wunmi, one of the waitress to come.

I no drink again oh” I said. Bally started laughing.

“Chingy has started. Every time his own is to try to get someone drunk” Bally joked.

“I don’t know why you guys are in a hurry to go home, there isn’t even light?” Chingy said, that made me frown.

I had just moved into a 2 story, 6-flat compound in Agbowo with Dotun and apparently between the day we paid for the place (Friday) and the day we moved in (Sunday), the Ibadan Electric Distribution Company  (aka NEPA) had come to disconnect the house. This was 2 weeks later and the tenants had not come to conclusion on how to rectify the issue. It always irritated me when I thought of it.

“Abeg no spoil my mood” I said.

“Baba no worry” Dotun tried to cheer me up. “Shebi we have agreed. If by weekend nothing happens we will just go to NEPA oursleves”.

“So for the whole compound it will be only you guys with light?” Bally asked trying to picture it.

“Toh landlord said nothing concerns him with light now’ Dotun explained.

“Abeg enough of all this talk. Guy you have only taken two bottles, everyone should take one more for the road” Chigozie interjected. He had to signal Wunmi again as she had left amidst our gist.

“Wunmi mama, you too dey vex” Chigozie teased as she walked towards us.

“A ah, how sir?” she tried to be polite but the ‘sir’ thing wasn’t working for her. Most probably an instruction from the manager.

“I have told you to leave this ‘sir’ business. Call me Chingy” he smiled at her.

“Chingy leave this babe and order what you want” I teased him. he shot me a look and placed his order.

“We will still talk oh” he winked at her. As she left he turned to me “guy na wa for you oh“. I just laughed. We had our drinks and continued our gist.

 

………..           ………..          ………..

 

Dotun and I left the group in front of U.I gate and took a tricycle (popularly called Keke) heading into Agbowo. The breeze was quite cold and I mentally kicked myself for not taking a jacket out. We dropped at our usual junction and walked home.

“Bros wetin we go chop?” Dotun asked me. Our usual discussion every night we didn’t want to cook.

“Guy be like na bread and akara oh, I really don’t have strength to start cooking indomie” I replied. we smiled in agreement and walked to the only akara seller still opened in the area.

E kaa le ma (good evening ma)” Dotun dove into Yoruba as my phone rang in my pocket.

“Yeah, hello” I said politely. I was always polite when an unregistered number called me.

“Hello good evening” a female voice said. “Am I speaking to Tobi?”

Bros, how many you fit chop?” Dotun asked.

“Yes you are” I said holding the phone to my ear while i indicated fifty Naira worth of akara to Dotun with my hands.

“Hi, Tobi, I got your number from one of your friends who told me you just moved to Ibadan” she said. She had a pretty voice and oh her diction was heavenly.

“Errm, okay” I said trying to not sound confused. “SO how can I help you?”

“Well I was just wondering if you would like to hangout sometime, like be friends?” Was she asking or telling, I wondered. Either way I wasn’t going to bother.

Now see, the thing is I have some very annoying friends and this will be the third, no fourth time they would do this to me. Either they get their girlfriends or someone who likes a good prank to call me and tease me or make it sound like a hook up or something. I have never had it easy getting the ladies so why was it today that my luck will change?

“Ha ha ha nice one” I laughed mockingly. “who put you up to this?” I asked.

“Sorry?” She replied.

“Was it Ogrima or Frank? Just tell me, they have pulled a prank like this on me before so I am used to it” I tried to make a joke out of it while mentally plotting my revenge on my idiotic friends.

“Sorry if I bothered you” She said almost sounding hurt. Hmmm this was not the usual response I got. Dotun had finished the purchase and we were heading to the house.

“Wait” I said quickly, “Are you serious? Like this isn’t a prank?”

“I am based in Ibadan and your friend has been telling me about this his Tobi friend who he says is nice to be around and I was like oh well why not but if you are uncomf….” but I cut her mid-sentence.

“Wow you ARE serious” I couldn’t believe it “I’m sorry just that my friends keep pulling this stunt on me” I tried to apologize.

“I see” she sounded unsure.

“I would love to hangout” I quickly interjected. I heard her chuckle. Hmmm, she thought I was funny, that is a good thing I told myself.

“Sorry I didn’t get your name”.

“I didn’t give it” she retorted.

“Haba now” I pleaded.

“That’s what you get for doubting” she replied. She was obviously enjoying this. “How is your weekend like?”

“Free” I said quickly. I had a tutorial, I had NEPA issues to sort out but I was definitely seeing this through I thought.

“Okay” she laughed “How is Ventura, Saturday, 2pm? If you can’t make it let me know alright?”

“No problem” I said smiling.

“Good night doubting Thomas” she chuckled again.

“Good night to you too” I said. All of a sudden the akara and bread looked like fried rice and chicken.

 

………         ……..         ………

 

How do you like it? My Ibadan Tale will be posted every Friday. So share this link with your friends and enjoy a good read. 

 

Posted in Let's Talk

It is Not All About You

“I can’t believe this oh Muyiwa” Timileyin started her rant. I sighed and took a deep breath.

“Please Timi, I have a headache” I was still shaking and needed to sit down.

“Oh, now you have headache abi?” she bellowed down at me. “Now when we are talking about another girl you have headache. Between yesterday night and today, they have come to cook, clean and form girlfriend and you let them, but no, you have headache” she rolled her eyes as she paced in the kitchen.

No, not today, I said to myself as I forced myself to stand up and headed to my room. I had typhoid and a migraine that was making me dizzy. I didn’t have the strength for this. Gbodi had told me this my gentle nature would be the end of me.

“We are talking and you are walking away Muyiwa, seriously?” Timileyin barked at me as she followed. I reached my drawer and brought out the ibex capsule. I squeezed his hands in anger and turned to face her.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I shouted. I hated swearing or cussing in front of a lady, worse my girlfriend but I had had enough.

“Timi What are you upset about?” I asked. “Is it the fact that I am sick and you as my girlfriend didn’t think it wise to prepare something nice and bring over knowing I would be too weak to cook for myself or the fact that there was someone else who thought so and I appreciated her for it”.

She looked like she was having a hard time deciding which it was.

“Or is it such a surprise that I even have other girls that care enough for me but have no intention towards me? Is it so difficult t believe?” I asked her as she stood looking dazed.

Never, not once; have I ever raised my voice at her. She didn’t know how to react.

“But why will Ronke cook for you? Your ex fa?” she looked hurt but I was too angry to care.

“Why will she not cook for me?” I quickly cut her short, “what is the big deal? Some people care regardless of the past, they will not buy lunch for themselves and come to my house to come and eat not considering me”.

“But baby you said you were not hungry now” she replied defensively.

“Really? First I told you I had not eaten , then I told you I was not hungry, and I am ill and need to take drugs” I decided to paint the picture for her “but Muyiwa said he wasn’t hungry so you now you are not obligated to care now”.

The sarcasm was in full force now.

“How many times do I beg you to take your drugs when you are sick, I pet you till you eat, but I am ill and you can’t atleast show some care?”

“Baby . . . .” she looked remorseful but I wasn’t buying it.

“See just go back to the office, you have work after all. I will be fine” I said going back to my bedside.

“But . . .” she started.

“I am too tired to fight today. I’ll be fine” I took the bottle of water and took the drugs. I got on my bed and lay down.

 

………         ………         ………

Hmmmm, people and their issues. Was Muyiwa in the right? Was Timileyin in the right? Guys kindly share this post with your friends and drop your thoughts. My friends and I have been deliberating on this topic ever since I brought it up. Thanks again for reading.

 

 

Posted in Quotes & Poems

O Man, Thou art not allowed . . .

You want me to woo you, chase you, tease you, yet you give me just a few minutes of attention,

You want sweet morning text massages, continuous calls and replies to all your chats but no warm text message back, spaced out calls and my replies I have to wait for,

You want me to prove myself, fight for your love, win your trust . . .

 

“It is the fun in the chase” She says,

“I wouldn’t want to come off cheap” She say,

O man, though art not allowed to complain.

 

You dies out of a sickness/accident/mishap, you that bore me. Leaving me to fend for my younger ones, leaving me in this cold world,

You demand my toil, my sweat, my blood for your success and yet insult me, cut my pay diminish me.

You say it is the man’s duty, you mock me in my struggle, you compare me to friends and colleagues  . . .

“You be man” they say,

“You gats chest am” they say,

O man, though art not allowed to cry.

 

We have emotions,

We hurt,

We require attention,

We cry,

We are human, not some muscle built robot oblivious to pain and untouched by a lack of affection. We are imperfect, we are humane and yes we might have egos but in truth it dies in the presence of those we love.

So,

Text back,

Call often,

Tell us those sweet mushy things,

Believe in us, care for us, trust us.

For whether we like it or not, the society will always say “O man, thou art not allowed . . .

 

I know there are players and scums but there are still guys that care, that are nice, that feel. Don’t judge your next with your ex, don’t assume guys don’t feel anything. They may not show it but they do. This is for the good guys. 

– Anonymous Nigerian

Posted in Uncategorized

Hello from Me . . .

I know, I know, I have been away for too long, it is exams my people. I remember it like yesterday, when my friend walked with me around 5.00 am from my house to where I would get a cab to the park. I was leaving for Ibadan, for a master course. Fast forward 5 months later we have lost weight.

Yes, I went back to school oh. Let us up ourselves, see if money will up itself in our account as well. LOL. It hasn’t been easy. If it was, there would have been time to write. The plus side is I went to Ibadan, as in IBADAN, the capital of Yoruba drama and I came back loaded. So expect some funny, short stories in the coming weeks.

I promise to TRY and write as much as I can and post as often as I can. I hope all my readers are in good health of mind and body. Asides the short stories I have been working on two stories. Unlike Tola’s Dilemma (which I still  don’t know when I will finish it) these ones will be completely finished before I start to post.

Let me know in the comment box which you are more interested in, short stories, youthful banter or a long story.

Good to put hand to keyboard again. Y’all stay safe. Much love.

Posted in Quotes & Poems

I weep

I look out into the broad streets,

I see the sorry grief.

The crying child in torn uniform,

The student and job seeker walking in sad unison.

The frustrated traffic warden barking orders,

Taxis, motor bikes and car owners shouting at each other.

I can’t help the tear drop rolling down my face.

 

I look at our politicians fighting each other on the TV,

Students being chased home from school by their VC.

The president sick and unable to rule,

Law makers to busy looting to bother about you.

Rights forgotten, suffering begotten, violence unending,

Oh Lord how do we mend this?

I can’t help the tear drop rolling down my face.

 

I weep for those who are overlooked for jobs because they have no connections,

I weep for youths who resort to theft, kidnapping and drugs because they feel they “are not good enough”.

I weep for the downfall of the economy and our lack of effort to make it better.

I weep for my country to whom much was bestowed.

– Anonymous

Posted in Monday Muse

Unsaid Toils 2

 

I took quite a number of insults before I was able to get the money to join the network marketing company, contrary to my friend who half his family were either in the business or rooting for those who were, my parents had thought I had lost my mind. I remember my father sitting me down one evening and giving me a remedial course on the importance of working hard and avoiding ‘get rich quick schemes’.

In the first month of being in the business I had lost most of the people I considered friends. “Awon ponzi, Mr. marketer, always inviting for presentation” was a few of the reasons given. And after they heard I had made it big, it was “he is into rituals”. No one would understand I couldn’t lend them money because I had to reinvest in myself. “He is proud now, him no dey our level again” they said.

I didn’t mention the trips, night-journeys because I had presentations at short notice. It would seem I forgot share when I had to sleep in a bus in the middle of nowhere because the bus I used broke down or the number of times I was embarrassed, abused or thrown out of offices because what i was offering was beneath the prospect I spoke to.

Exactly a year after I started network marketing my mum died. And I lost it. She was my only supporter, my one-man fan club. And I lost it, falling into depression made me loose a lot of money. That was the first time I thought about using my Resume which after a couple of interviews drove me deeper into depression. It was a classic hero-to-zero story. My one million I had made disappeared faster than the one hundred and seventy-five Naira.

I met my mentor in that year of depression and it took a while and a lot of stubbornness on her part but she got through to me. She became he mother I had lost. For every wrong business move she scolded me like little boy and for every brilliant idea she cheered me on. I pull myself up and yes it was a beautiful comeback.

I said I invested in some companies. Last year I almost lost my shares. The year before that most of you would remember the law suit that went away after the hype that followed it. Two very tough situations. This is my eleventh year as an entrepreneur. People still want to sue me, people still hate me, my consulting firm still faces major challenges and as you know telecommunication companies in Nigeria are not finding it funny. I am thirty-five years old, and my wife just gave birth so I have daddy duties. But I am still here.

. . . . . .

This time people were on their feet, some were shaking their heads, some were smiling but everyone was clapping. I had walked back to the podium during the course of my story and I just looked. More overwhelmed at my story than at its effect to the crowd. It really has been a long journey.

I looked up, took a deep breath, raised a hand for silence and decided to continue.

“Folks, that is what most people forget to say. That is what people think. Since they don’t know you one on one, you never told them your story they assume. They think you never really worked hard, IT JUST HAPPENED. For those who feel network marketing is shady, it is simply because you thought it would be easy since you took the stories told and focused on the good part” I looked into the crowd as I spoke.

“It is never easy. And just because it took someone 2 decades to make it in life and it took another half the time doesn’t make either of them less important. If you want to be successful, respect successful people. There is no time to hate” I said.

A number of people were nodding their heads.

“We should be proud of our young folks making it big. We should encourage it. We should support it. Support your children if they have dreams. Learn about what they are interested in and guide them. You job is not to make them do what you want but guide them to do what is RIGHT” I looked around.

I have always had the weirdest type of speeches and this was one of them. I decided to round up.

“I would like to end with this. It is possible for you to be successful, know that for every ‘over-night’ success there is a story of struggle behind it and remember that if you believe it is possible and you work towards it, somehow, some day it will happen” the auditorium roared with clapping.

“Like every speech I have I have to end with the words of my favorite motivational speaker” I smiled as I look to the crowd “It has been a plum pleasing pleasure, as well as a privilege. Good Night” and I walked towards the back entrance of the stage, and like in every single speech I give, tears fill my eyes.

Posted in Quotes & Poems

I Apologise

I came across this 4+ minute video clip, an interview of David D-Black Roberts and I was blown away and needed to share it here. Please forgive the transcript errors people. Read and enjoy.

“I Apologize”

I apologize for being a rapper that flood your airwaves with songs that depraves your kids minds making them mental slaves.

I apologize for writing rhymes about crimes never committed, selling drugs, busting guns, prisons never been in.

I apologize for promoting companies lacking respect for me. stretching out their demographics, increasing their currency.

I apologize for demeaning women when some of y’all don’t deserve it. Prostituting y’all on waxes is a means to making a profit.

I apologize for exploiting my hood when I should be explaining it. Using it as a stepping stone when I should be saving it.

I apologize for giving the N-word heavy rotation. Instead of lifting the minds of the masses I am satisfying investors.

But see . . . . . .

I got this A&R saying if I don’t write songs like this he ain’t gonna sign me. and y’all black folks is bootlegging and downloading so what you going about, spare me.

And plus I got seeds to feed and y’all ain’t buying enough copies, but this white kids get a kick outta black negativity. So I assemble on tracks manifest. Coz the black companies can’t offer what these white ones is paying me.

So for an MTV Crib and a chance at luxury, I close my third eye, compromising my dignity. Like y’all females dancing to my number one songs and misogyny.

Rhythmic masochist, gyrating to degradation, souls missing something like single parent housing. Now you know why today’s black youths is unbalanced.

Say hello to our future gang members or corner drug dealers, listening to me, Mike Jones or Jim Jones trying to figure out who is a better father figure.

And our streets is ruptured. Black leaders crossed over selling out our structures to development vipers and our black doctors and lawyers moved out to greener pastures.

No more role models. They left out with the Cosby season, making us fans and victims of these misguided elders spewing the word ‘nigga’ with lousy explanations, y’all are taking us backwards with reigns pulp friction but you call me black-xploitation.

I’m just a sound on a radio station that y’all keep demanding so who’s fault really is this?

I’m from that part of America where genocide thrives as my neighbor. As best as when I wake up, hearing sirens when I slumber.

But now I’m a Stafford wife, stepping affections for my masters, strings pulled by my backers.

But regardless of these factors . . . . .

I’m the one in control of my actions . . . . .

And I should still know better . . . . .

So . . . . .

I Apologize

Have you ever thought about it before? Hope it gives you something constructive to think about. If you would like to watch the video for yourself Click Here. Check him out via my space. Have a fabulous week guys.

Posted in Monday Muse

The Unsaid Toils

I want to start this week by addressing something we all tend to do or have done. Consciously or unconsciously. I hope it strikes a nerve. Enjoy!!!

“He looks so . . . ordinary” the guy three seats way from me whispered to his friend. He must have thought I wouldn’t hear him.

“Yeah. So young too” his friend replied. I tried to hide my smile as I waited to be called to the podium. I have had this habit of sitting with the crowd instead of in the designated seat whenever I am to give a speech. I come early, sit and let the crowd flood in. Most times I am lucky to not get noticed, apparently today was not one of those days. The moderator, a very pretty lady was giving a brief summary of my background and the stares which I have grown accustomed to, started coming in my direction.

“. . . he is going to be talking on “Understanding and Respecting Success”. So please let us now welcome, as he comes to the stage, Mister . . . ” before she called my name, the crowd was already on their feet clapping. I stood up, waved to the crowd as I mounted the stage and walked the short distance to the podium. The moderator gave me a quick peck, shook my hand firmly, and gestured towards the podium for me to take over.

“Thanks . . . ” I had to smile, they wouldn’t stop clapping. I waited for some seconds and still they kept clapping. it was now getting uncomfortable. I raised my hand in that familiar manner of politicians. It shows both appreciation and a call for order.

If una no calm down we no go leave here oh” I joked in pidgin English. A mixture of shock and laughter filled the place as everyone began to settle down.

“Thank you all, I am so humbled” I said, “It is always a pleasure to be in the presence of great minds and no, I am not flattering you. I want to thank this fine organisation for giving me the honor of talking you you all today.”

There was a round of applause.

“I chose this topic today because of a notion that was proven just a few minutes ago before I left my seat.” I said my eyes drifting towards the two men who had been whispering to each other about me.

“Through the years, I have heard it all: ‘He is too young to be this successful’ they would say, ‘She is obviously an overnight success, used her father’s wealth’ they would say. ‘They are young CEOs? They look so ordinary’. People assume, and most times wrongly too, how people who are successful got their success” I said. I knew I had struck a nerve, there were whispers and nods of agreement.

“So I am going to give you two stories, I will explain both and I will leave you to ponder on them.” I smiled, the hall became quiet and I began.

I finished NYSC with one hundred and seventy-five thousand Naira in my account, I was just twenty three years old. The largest amount I had ever had to my name before, I had painstakingly saved through the twelve months I served and it was an achievement for me. I was a ‘big boy’, moved to Abuja to live with my brother. The dream was to go to the big city, get the grand job and live large. I felt I had started off well already. Three months later, no job, no prospects of a job and worse, no money. Up till today I can’t explain how I spent it.

So there I was, unemployed, broke and in my brother’s house, depression flirting with me. Then I get this invite to a network marketing presentation by a friend. And my life changed. I was introduced to a sale’s pitch that involved what we called ‘sowing for the future’. The product was a daily consumable so it was just to give it to people to try out. I quickly borrowed money to join and I started off. In two weeks I had made two hundred and fifty thousand Naira. Seventy five thousand Naira more than I had made in a year of NYSC, I quickly paid back the money I borrowed. By the end of the first year I had made over a million Naira. They said it was too good to be true and it seemed so. But I was blessed to have met a great woman, mentor and friend in the business. she taught me the tricks of the business, but she also taught me about life. She said something that for me, has been the key to my success.

In everything in life, you have three choices. You either go in first (i.e early), go in fast or go in big. Any other thing won’t do. And remember, nothing lasts forever“.

So I did my research. As legit as network marketing outfits come, there is always a loop hole and once found, it is exploited and the inevitable crash of the system happens. With that knowledge, I started diverting funds to other profitable ventures and only used spare cash to maintain the network marketing business. By the fifth year when the network marketing company I was involved with finally crashed, I had created a consulting firm with a large clientele and had stocks in two major telecommunication companies in the country. My net worth was almost 20 million Naira. A lot of people called it luck and every single time I heard that, I smiled.

This is my eleventh year as an entrepreneur. My consulting firm just successfully opened our latest branch in the US. I and on the board of directors in one of the telecommunication companies I invested in, and I am thirty five years old. If I can know that you can too.

I paused and took a long look at the crowd as they all got up and applauded. Everyone had that ‘wow’ look. I took a sip of my water. The expected reaction.

“That is my marketing story,” I said smiling. “What do I mean by marketing story, you may ask. Well in network marketing, to make a person buy from you, you need to win them, and the truth is you don’t make noise about the product. NO, . . . you sell the dream of what the benefits of getting into the business will give them. Selling the product gives you a customer, selling the business gives you YOUR business,” I said. There was another round of applause.

“So, you tell them your story,” I said “you let them see through your successes that they to can be successful. You make them believe it is possible, despite the hardship in the country. You create a seed of belief” I paused for effect.

“But what most people don’t do is tell the WHOLE story and that brings me to the second part of my story.” I left the podium and walked into the crowd.

“Why do businesses fail? Why do you think most Nigerians think all network marketing companies are scam? Why do you think most people actually believe there is such a thing as over-night success?” I asked.

“I will tell you” I said and I started the second story.