The Battles Are Inside: reflect on the happenings around you. | Because We Are Evil

In a world of possibilities, how come there are limitations? In a world of advancements, we hear there is a new technology everyday, social media is high on flick, our lives are made easy day by day by certain principles, ideologies as well as innovations. People are doing something and making plans to push things forward, push ideas that benefits mankind.

Yet in a world of possibilities, endless in its form, Oh I read somewhere Germany made a visible car- see through, just at the corner, echoes of killings of people: didn’t fifty and three die in a gay club in Orlando? And then there are the twins getting married to one husband, one lady making weird transformations to her body to look like an alien, reality shows are on rampage, artists are born everyday, should I go on? What do you say?  I say yet in a world of possibilities and positives, how come there are limitations and negatives?

In a world of advancement, how come there are plenty evils?

Aches and pains,
People are groping everyday.

How come we fight the very things we create everyday of our lives, we toss and turn in our beds hoping things would get better but it doesn’t?

The developed countries think they are rich when actually they are poor. Poverty is everywhere. Poverty of the soul.

The underdeveloped countries are sick, sickness in the soul.

The developing countries are dying, death by the cross they bear, by the tugging powers of people’s dying souls. People dying because they won’t let go of themselves.

These things are not about you. These things are more than you and these things are not about you I say. The strongman of the world is getting stronger while the man in us gets weaker.  Of course, we don’t know.

In a world of possibilities, can you see the flaws and caricatures of agony down the abyss called life?

How come these darkness, the crisscross upside down virtues we call hope in life is truly upside down?

I tell you what I think. I hear we are made of two natures, evil or bad and good. The side we choose to nurture determines who we truly are. Who are we? We are evil. I think we are evil. So evil we have completely lost ourselves.

I think these battles we war everyday are nowhere to be found because the very places we are looking at these battles are in ourselves. How can you be looking for something that is already within you? The truth is the battles are inside, the wars are inside. If one person, just one take a drive down reflection lane and sit by the mirror of life, ask yourself,  in what ways have (will) you contribute(d) to the society or world and how are you impacting your world, just take minutes, minutes are not enough in these matters greater than you, because it was never about you. Take hours and ask yourself, this life is not about me.

This world is not a you and me affair. if we ask ourselves questions, probe our souls,  I probe my soul, you probe your soul, he probes his soul, she probes her soil and we reach a conclusion, that we want to be good and no evil should spring forth from our lot, would the world not be a better place? That when evil approaches, it would be afraid?

But no, we are too greedy, self centeredness  is our walking spine and selfishness is our watchword.

No, we are too vain, everything else don’t matter except that which we want for ourselves, that which you want for yourself alone, you have nobody in mind, no life to touch, no world to move or contribute to.

No, we are too serious, too serious with ourselves that we don’t care about any one else. Maybe that’s why psychopathic tendencies are never left farther behind.

No, it is that we are too evil. Evil has taken a seat in our hearts. And everything is now upturned.

The truth is we are the enemies of ourselves. Greed is eating away Nigeria, the developed countries and America are full of themselves, moderation has lost its fame and the Waring nations who wake and sleep with only thoughts of war in their heads forming groups I can’t decipher their propaganda are thorn away by contempt, covetousness. Don’t ask me the what’s and whys because I do not know. But what I do know is we are the battles we are fighting.

The battles are inside and until we win this war inside ourselves, all we would always have is loss and grief with poverty, lack and everything negative smiling at the corner.

Until you win the war against yourself, until there is a separation between you and those things that condemns you, until what’s inside you is strong enough to overcome every resistance of evil, because everything now is evil, greed is evil, poverty is evil, murder is evil, pride is evil, hatred is evil, strife is evil…

Until this, we are all at war with ourselves and will never be free.

Perhaps, this is why I particularly love the vision of shared values being circulated by Mr Fela Durotoye especially for the country, Nigeria. That if we can believe in a set of shared values and follow through to it. Everyone would have the same mindset of achieving goodness all round.

And perhaps,  the world would once again dance on the floor of true greatness and no loss, what we had many million years ago but couldn’t properly define.

( Join me in the coming week as I walk you through these values and you can request for the Ten values that would change your life, it is free and easy to adhere to. If you need help with following these values, I can help you through, I was trained to do so.)

If you enjoyed this piece or the content of this awesome blog, do hit the subscribe button below or by side and never miss out on juicy, thought provoking and compelling piece updates. That would mean a lot to me. Kindly share also, the share buttons are waiting for you. Thank you in anticipation.

PhotoCredit: Google Images.

Bienvenue `a America. #1


When I walked through beautiful  Dubai airport, (jeez…from the tarmac to the airport itself was like from Yaba to Unilag, even farther) and made my way to Dallas Fort Worth, they termed my luggage agriculture because I carried one ghana must go bag.
You see at MMA, Muritala Airport, my bags over weighed, only the 350 naira turned 800naira  ghana must go bag helped my condition.
So when I wheeled my bags looking bone faced after a long flight, the black check out security guy smiled at me. I smiled back. I know, Nigerian, he smelt me.

“I eat fufu” he told me later in his American accent.
“Oh that’s great” I replied excitedly in my Nigerian accent.

“What’s this?” He searched my ghana must go bag, bringing out some items amidst some books and clothes. He didn’t even eye my other luggage.

“Oh that’s garri.. ( I took garri with me, even with Lassa fever, garri that kan for that matter, iyalaya lassa fever).

“Yea, that’s iru”
“That’s egusi”

I even took dried ugu.
He nodded and smiled while closing the bag
“You cook?”
I nodded in the affirmative.
“Oh I saw books, you are a reader, I like you already”

I smiled and nodded even though I knew I wouldn’t be reading my new books anytime soon.

“You are too young to know how to cook”
And my mind went like chisos!

How old do you think I am? 16?

I bade him goodbye and stepped my feet in America for the first time, breathing the American air. There was no enthusiasm, i was not feeling myself, everything seemed normal, it even looked like I was still at home because I did not see the fuss, the pomp and pageantry, the welcome to America, land of milk and honey thing. I did not see anything. Maybe later, time told me but I knew I was not seeing anything at that moment.

I was just not excited, perhaps the air hostess who contemplated whether to smile at me when passengers were getting off the plane and i looked blankly and uninterested could testify.

And the two white guys that sat beside me in the second plane were way too amused to understand when i rejected the hostess’ servings. Emirates had a way of killing you with food, the menu was endless. And of course, with food my tongue had never tasted nor liked.

I admit I was fascinated and inquisitive on the first plane and the food was quite alright and I relaxed because the plane was not full of people unlike the second one. I was still not buying it. Even the air hostesses could tell, the guy who was en route Dubai with his brother and who collected my email was excited that I was heading to America and he himself could tell I was not. Everybody seemed excited but I wasn’t, it felt like a normal trip.

Now, as the car passed by and I looked out the window stupefied, i knew there would be more stories to tell.

Stories and observations that would later amuse, irritate and upset me. 
Later, few weeks in America,  I would ponder and write on these scenes because it reminded me of the security guy at the airport who thought I was too young to know how to cook.

For instance, at church,  the nine year old with her American accent and dabbling mouth walks up to me to familiarize. That was after another 11 year old came to greet me in that childish exuberance.

“Hello” she said, patting my braids in fascination, it was black and white.

“Say good morning, what is hello?”
The nine year old asked, ” how old are you?”

I chuckled, i didn’t answer. Such audacity but then, this ain’t Nigeria.
The other day I called one coconut head and he started to cry. I just laughed.

Another playful boy had joined us and he blurted out my age. My baby brother, the one I could have given birth to before being relegated as mom number two. Hahaha.
“Oh my God,  you look 18!” Nine year old shouted and a grin spread across my face.
Now I was going to partly ghost write a book. I paused the audio recorder on my phone while the client checked her notes.

My hair was all tucked in, I was with a face cap. What was I thinking when  I followed my boss to the conference hall?
This is not Nigeria, suit and stuff. The client was wearing boots and trouser,  Nah… it’s pants. Nigeria calls it trouser just as cray fish is shrimp and gum is glue. These words and spellings i learnt more as my days would stretch.

So I am casual, i looked like a piece of broom except for the usual feminine assets,  the face cap betrayed me.
She turned and asked, ” how old are you?”
I told her.
“Oh my God, you look 18!”
” I get that a lot ” I replied indifferently.

I pondered on my mind,  maybe I need to wear Aso oke like my church members and tie gele so everyone can stop telling me I look 18 and gimme small respect without intruding questions.

 Of course, i would not know these things would happen until i encountered them as days roll into weeks and into months. But as i was picked from the airport that moment and i watched the roads and saw the houses and the calmness of the streets, i pondered  on how living the American life would be. Then i noticed everywhere was too dead and i may probably not survive. So i asked, “the road is scanty, where is everybody?”
And they laughed and said, “welcome to America”

To be Continued…