He called after 25 years.

My bosom childhood friend.

Some one close to me, recognized him, and he collected my number.

Six months after the call, we met in person.

There was a lot of catching up to do.

He has done so well in his career.

Financially, he is a big boy.

He was close to those in the state's corridor of power.

He is married to a beautiful, intelligent lady.

The marriage has produced lovely children - boys and girls.

We continued catching up on each other's life, even as he drove.

"So UC, tell me I learnt the women in Port-Harcourt are hot. How many do you have?" He asked.

"I looked at him, as he parked in front of a fruit garden.

Paraphrasing, what I first heard in my first year of marriage from a friend.

I replied: "The time, energy, and resources maintaining one woman - my wife - is enough for me. Add another woman? That means I no like myself now."

That said, I stepped out and got some fruits.

Back to the car, I noticed my guy had his head upwards with his hand on his brow.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Bro. Women wahala is choking me," he replied.

I gave some suggestions, on how to break free.

He listened, got himself together, as we continued to our destination.

Ten minutes later, he said, "UC, check out that Chic, men....."

#observationofaneverydayguy

"You aren't an engineer, we can't use these resins. It's already caked. Get procurement to make fresh orders." The operations manager said.

The Consultant replied, "Something can be done. By the way these are special resins, getting new ones in the country will be difficult, and very expensive."

The operations manager continued, "So be it. If not we are grounded on this project. How about our suppliers in Egypt?

He replied, "Not an option. The freight charges will outweigh the costs of the resins itself. I still believe there is a way round these caked resins.

Exasperated, the operations manager added, "Well. You aren't an engineer, there isn't a way."

With that the operations manager stormed out of his presence.

Two days later, he delivered some buckets of resins to the operations manager.

"Trust these are okay? He asked the operations manager.

"Yeah, yeah, there are. So fast. Where did you procure them from?

"Same buckets you said was irredeemable." He answered

"Really, how come?"

"I may not be an engineer, but I know how to solve problems. Thank God for the internet."

The operations manager looked at him eagerly to reveal what he did?

"Well, I exposed the caked resins to the sun."

Observation of an Everyday Guy.

This young fine boy.

And a sweet sixteen fine girl.

Teenage romance intoxicates.

Girls habitually flocked round him, this fine boy.

When she comes around, and meets them.

They start leaving one after the other.

These girls understood she was the one.

The special one.

She will accuse him of flirting with them.

He will put up a weak defence.

Then she will repeat her famous lines:

"Let them don't deceive you o. I am the one that will take care of you, during your old age."

He smiles.

She smiles.

Issue settled.

As they stood besides each other.

You can't help but admire their youth.

His smooth fair skin, perfectly complementing her shining dark skin.

Beautiful specimen.

One day, two well built young men, stormed the fine boy's outlet.

They accused him of defiling their sister.

If not for neighbours intervention, first they would have beaten him.

"Then who did it to our sister?"

The scene reminded me about the biblical scene of Jacob's daughter and sons.

Earlier, the news had gone round.

The defiler had boosted how he was the one who launched her.

Even mocking the fine boy for not doing so earlier.

They nearly came to blows, if not for people's intervention.

So those around told her brothers, who the launcher was.

The fine boy said to her brothers,
"I love your sister. Yes I am a player, but your sister was special. I was keeping it till -."

The brothers did not wait to hear further.

They zoomed off to confront the defiler.

So he stopped midway, head bowed.

The police picked the defiler and charged him with rape.

He said it wasn't.

That it was mutual.

That she went out with him, and one thing led to another.

The girl said he drugged her.

"Where? In your Father's house?"

"No at a guest house."

"Did he kidnap you to the guest house?"

"No."

Case solved.

But because she was just sixteen. Sweet sixteen, the defiler was charged with defiling an under age.

Good money changed hands.

And he regained his freedom, within days.

Her physical pain continued into weeks.

For she was bruised.

Bloodied also.

That was how her brothers knew.

When she walked in wobbling with blood stained dress.

Her physical pain was too much.

More painful was her shame.

Her shame of failing the fine boy.

Her shame of failing her family.

Her shame of losing her virginity, just like that.

After three months, she came around that area for the first time.

Her face was bowed.

She hurriedly left after she was through.

At least she has a sensitive conscience.

The fine boy bounced back.

How soon can he trust another female?

A seal he chose not to open.

She made it easy for someone else to break.


Observation of an Every day Guy.

Hakimi. Hakimi's Wife. Their divorce. Hakimi's Mum. Hakimi's supposed assets.

Hakimi is trending on social media.
This popularity even suppased that of the world cup.

The battle of the genders is raging on and offline. Among couples who are in opposite camps, there will be tensions.


The level of tension, will be in accord with the energy invested by each spouse in this trending issue.

After consuming contents on social media.

This may colour the thoughts, words, acts of a spouse towards the other.

This trending issue will pass o.

If you have time and energy to spare for this, at least remember that each marriage is unique.

So be objective.

#Observation of an Everyday Guy.

An orange seller.

In a popular market in Port-Harcourt.

Pretty young lady, between 23 to 25 years.

She carries herself with pride.

Even in her humble trade.

Well mannered too.

She can greet for Africa.

Recently, business took me to that market.

I saw her with a POS machine.

In answer to my enquires, my client replied:

"During the start of the cash crunch, she started the business.

"When other POS operators where buying cash at 25/30%, from traders. She was getting hers with little or no fees.

"She is fluent with hausa. Most importantly before then she built good relationships with most.

"So the hausa traders especially, were willingly to help her.

"She really made it big. She even employed one of her brothers during that first month.

"Some said she gave him =N= 100,000. Others said it was even up to =N=300,000. Just for a duration of three or four weeks service.

At that moment, she walked past my client's business.

"Good evening sirs," She greeted with a pleasant smile.

#observationofaneverydayguy#

Last week was a very busy week for Segun. From Sunday to Friday, morning till night.

A busy week adding value to others online and offline

Saturday, he also opened a laptop. The flesh resisted, it needed a break.

The spirit was willing, for the week's tasks had to be closed out.

Time is precious.

He worked till the laptop battery went flat.

No energy to start a generator.

Segun continued on his phone, till the phone too went flat.

He took his usual fifteen minutes nap.

Got up, it was 4:45pm.

Those God placed under his custody, were either out or sleeping.

He dressed up casually, and stepped out.

He had two destinations in mind:

1) The noisy bar on the major road with loud music, and satelite TV everywhere.

2) The quiet bar off the major street. A section has an open space, with palm and pine trees, flowers and green grass.

His mood wasn't ready for noise.

He went to the quiet bar.

He took a position under the clear blue sky. The palm of his feet careasing the lush green grass beneath.

Oh! So soft, and therapeutic in itself.

He felt lighter and more relaxed as the grass sent ripples of bliss through his feet into his entire body.

He closed his eyes for a few minutes and enjoyed the moment.

He made an order for a malt drink and goat pepper soup.

On the next table a man was with his wife and three other male companions.

Lovely to see his wife with him.

He was relating to the others how he and his wife can finish a bottle of spirit in the comfort of their home.

The things men boast about ehnn..

Segun's order came. The peppery soup was ideal for this cool weather.

As he sank into his chair enjoying the last piece of goat meat, he had the sound of hip hop music.

The D.J. was around, he has to add value to earn some income for his wants and needs.

Slow jamz would have been more preferable for this cool evening.

Segun looked up, the stars, have replaced the blue sky.

He stood up, it was time to go home.

He persisted.

And I shared with him one of my unpublished works on anxiety.

We spent about two hours going through the practical few pages.

When he saw any exercise that involved God, he jumped it.

Even the word God, was jumped.

When we were through with the study, overall he appreciated the work.

Perhaps because of the God factor, he said:

"I don't believe in what I don't understand. Example, Jesus turning water into wine, how does one explain it?"

"Same way people turn one chemical into another.

"In the case of turning water into wine, everything was invisible and so fast to the human eyes." I posited.

"How?" He asked.

"Check up the word miracle in the dictionary?" I replied.

After some resistance, he did.

"What make miracles possible?" he asked.

"Faith," I answered.

"Explain Faith?" he asked.

"It's best possessed, than explained," I answered

"You see what I mean," he said, "I can't believe in what I don't understand. In what can't be explained."

"Bible events give us some explanation," I replied.

"Take the bible out. I no longer believe it," he said. Then continued,

"Take crop rotation, it can be explained as...."

Imagining I have never heard any Agric. word in my life, I asked:

"What do you mean by crop?"

"Beans, Maize," he answered.

"Explain why beans is known as beans and maize is known as maize, why not vice-versa?" I asked.

He said a sentence or two but gave up, knowing it was futile.

I continued, "Even though the illiterate farmer doesn't understand how crop rotation works, he uses it.

"Because of the results. He knows it works.That's enough for him.

"Before science could explain how or why it works, people have used crop rotation or mixed farming. For them it works, that's enough.

"Same thing with faith, many evidences are there to prove it works," I said.

Standing up with hands akimbo he said: "There is no God. That's the truth."

"Your truth, not mine," I replied.

"No, that's the general truth." he repeated emphatically.

"Looking at you is enough evidence to tell me there is God." I replied.

"How?" he asked.

"Look at this chair, this table. It was created wasn't it?"

"Yes," he replied.

"So if something as simple as this needs to be created by someone. Then how much more something as complex as you?" I said. "There is an intelligent designer and he is God."

"I am telling you there is no God," he continued.

"I am, therefore there is." I said.

"The wars..."

"So when two children fight that's enough proof they don't have a biological father?" I asked.

"He is Almighty they say, so why doesn't he stop it?

I didn't reply him. Why should I? All I'm to say biblically about God's other qualities, working in tandem with his quality of power, he was taught.

"Spinoza doesn't believe in a God," he said.

Really? The Baruch Spinoza I know? Let's go to the internet.

He refused. Just continued talking.

Standing up I said, "You can't bamboozle me with philosophy and science. State the facts, because I know a little bit of philosophy and science too."

"Well, Spinoza inferred it in his Book: God, Man, and Ethics."

Stepping out, I asked, "Really?

"Yes. His unofficial work. Back then they can't really say somethings directly, he said it indirectly..."

As I walked out, I was just thinking:

"So you can infer and believe through a 16th century writing that there isn't God.

"Yet you no longer consider a book that have survived more than 1,500 years. A book which states directly there is God."

#observationofaneverydayguy#

He sat next to Nmeri.

This man in his 60s.

Wearing a faded black suit, white shirt, as he clutched two wornout files.

He said over the phone, "I am on my way. We have twenty minutes more."

He listened then continued, "Ah, you are at Haliburton...."

After the call, he said, "You trained a girl in school. Married her, made her a signatory in your company.

"She bought assets in her father's name with your money. Now she said she doesn't want to marry again.

"She cleared all the funds in the business. Even the contract you haven't executed for Haliburton, she cleared the mobilization money they paid.

"What are you going to Haliburton to do?

"Didn't you make her a signatory to the account?

"You can't read and write. Your can't interpret business documents. When they say you people should go to school.

"When they say you should be literate and enlightened.

"You refuse. Thinking money is everything.

"Oya now, e don set."

Nmeri wondered who the old lawyer was talking to. Since he was next to him he chipped in.

"She abused the trust."

The Lawyer continued, "What can we do? We called the lady, pleading for some sort of division of assets.

And she said: "Over my dead body. If he wants to go to court, we will meet in court. Those assets where acquired legitimately."

#Observation of an Everyday Guy

Victoria came out from a quiet place of prayer.

A quiet place she utilizes for meditative prayers.

Immediately, a slim unkempt looking young man approached her.

"Please I am hungry. I have not eaten," he said.

Victoria looked at him warmly, and replied, "I haven't eaten also."

"Anything," he continued. "You can buy the food for me there," He said, pointing at a kiosk.

Victoria took another look at him. His feet dirty and dusty. His sandals wornout like that of the Gibeonites in Joshua's day.

She led the way, as they headed to the kiosk.

"Please give him bread =N= 200," she spoke to the kiosk lady.

"Please change the bread to coke and that," he said. Pointing to a fish roll. He brought out fifty naira.

The attendant gave him a fish roll and a small bottle of sprite.

"Please I need coke," he objected.

"No small coke, only big one."

Victoria, told her to get it. She returned his =N=50. Then paid =N= 300 for the snack and cook he took.

"Thank you. Thank you. God bless you." He kept repeating, till Victoria was out of earshot.

#Observation of an Everyday Guy.

This sales girl.

Very churchy sales girl.

Gradually, she built trust with the business owner and the outsourced Accountant.

At a point, her second was dismissed, and for six months she was the only inhouse staff.

Transfer transactions was between the business owner and her sales rep.

They supply the information to her, she confirms the alert.

During the fifth month, the outsourced Accountant and Business owner agreed that the former should get involved in the transfer checks.

The Accountant sent the previous week transfer figures from the book to the business owner.

The business owner did not get an alert of =N= 1,500. Though it was in the sales record, as a transfer transaction.

The sales girl was asked.

And she said the customer's bank transfer was having issues. So the goods wasn't sold. She forgot to cancel it from the records.

The Accountant did a quick snap check, everything was okay.

He was assured. Because he believed that this churcy sales girl, who plays only gospel music, and can cabash for Africa, will not dent her integrity of over three years, with this business.

Intuitively, he requested for the bank statement of the business owner for the previous two months.

Systematically, the Accountant checked the transfer transactions. Things weren't adding up.

He requested for the bank statement for the last eight months and noticed that since this cabashing sales rep, worked alone, =N= 135,500, could not be accounted for.

How did she do it?

Through the transfer transactions.

Because the Accountant's scope didn't include internal checks for transfers, she utilized that loophole.

On the transactions she wants to steal, when a customer pays cash for that transaction, she puts in under transfer.

In the report sent to the business owner she will put that transaction under cash.

The business owner won't be bothered, because she didn't get the alert. And the report sent to her has it as cash.

When the Accountant comes in weekly, and checks cash, it is okay, because that cash transaction was fraudulently put under transfer in the sales record.

Usually, such fraudulent reporting was inserted as the last transaction of the day.

The business owner and Accountant were alarmed at such ingenious fraud.

After stock count at the end of March, 2023, they called her attention to the inconsistencies between the report sent to the business owner and the sales record.

They started with the latest month. As they progressed, she got the drift. And broke down crying. Talking about her sick dad, her brother's shop that got burnt etc.

Values!

Easy to profess that we are this or that.

When the chips are down, how many persons can live by their values?

Her guarantor was called in. The money was repaid. And she was dismissed.

#observations of an everyday guy.

Wedding.

A joyous occasion that brings loved ones together.

Stephen sister's wedding took place in their hometown.

The first loved one that checked into Stephen's family home was a child hood friend of Stephen's mother.

Whom Stephen's dad fondly refer to as A.U. for they are namesakes

Stephen was the first to see her as she entered the sitting room.

In an instant, seeing her brought back memories of Stephen's time at Christ the King College (C.K.C.), Onitsha.

Stephen met her for the first time through his mum.

Due to Stephen's juvenile delinquency, his mum travelled from Lagos to Onitsha.

She had a session with the Maths teacher. A soft spoken intelligent lady.

The Maths teacher told Stephen's mum, "Your son was the best maths student in Jss. 1.

"If you know what you gave your son, when he gained admission, please go and give it back to him."

Stephen's mum always remembers those last words.

Stephen was then in Jss. 3.

That's how A U. came into the picture. Stephen's mum contacted her. She lived in Fegge, Onitsha.

Then, she took Stephen like a son.

Ah! What fond memories her presence brought back to Stephen.

The weekends in her marital home.

Her sweet 'Ofe Aku.'

Her loving motherly nature.

Her long sermons, with her piercing voice and eyes, as she contributed to goading Stephen back to the path of discipline.

#Observation of an Everyday Guy

Finally, Nmeri and his dad arrived at the home of the oldest man in the village - their second investigation so far.

They were ushered into his room. He was eating. Well along in years. In his 90s. Still fit enough to lift the spoon from the plate to his mouth.

His son, interrupting his meals said, "Nna, some persons need your take on something."

Nmeri's dad replied, "Allow him finish. Food is king."

When it seems he was through, in less than three minutes, he would go back to the food.

During the interval, the oldest man carried on a conversation. Not with the visitors. He was hallucinating.

After thirty minutes of waiting, it was clear to both Nmeri and his dad, that the oldest man's knowledge and wisdom, have gradually crossed over to senility.

They addressed his son, in the presence of the oldest man, asking for some guidance concerning an issue that falls under the jurisdiction of that village.

The son spoke in favour of the issue, saying Nmeri and his dad can proceed.

They thanked him and left.

Nmeri and his dad decided to seek the counsel of the second oldest man.

Nmeri's dad introduced himself. The second oldest man greeted him in his (Nmeri's dad) village greeting. This showed he recognized Nmeri's dad.

And that was where the recognition ended.

They presented same issue to him. He couldn't grasp the matter. They repeated themselves severally, still he couldn't grasp the matter.

His son stepped in. And gave an answer based on where he knows the villagers stood on matters like that.

He was told what the son of the oldest man said.

He shrugged his shoulders, saying it boils down to the family. Yet generally, this is where his village stands on matters like this.

His verdict, was different from what the son of the oldest man said.

Nmeri and his dad were in a cross road. They have heard from three persons. One strongly against. One strongly for. One in-between.

If only, they could hear directly from these oldest men. The custodians of knowledge.

In Nmeri's hometown, the oldest man is the head of government. He may be adviced by others, especially other elders, yet he makes the final decision.

A system of government that may be called - absolute gerontocracy.

Even the titled chiefs, are subject to the oldest man.

Some oldest men are still mentally alert. Some, as in the case of this village, have either lost it or gradually losing it.

For these ones, whom senility have sipped in, how effective will their tenure be?

For any who comes in contact with them, it is apparent that such old ones aren't in charge any longer.

They are figure heads.

#observation of an everyday guy.

He said, "See o, during the inauguration of Kano's new Governor, the roof of the podium collapsed. He was fortunate to survive."

Not bothering to look at his phone, she replied, "No be that one e dey me. Na to calculate the cost of these goods."

After a few minutes, he spoke to her again, "Dem say NNPC go sell fuel for =N= 500. That means say oda filling station go sell for =N= 700 be that."

Visibly angry (because this one will affect her), she replied, " Which kine thing be that. Na so them won..."

In less than one minute she said all she wanted to. (because even if it affects her, she can't legally influence the outcome.)

Immediately, she stood up from the bench (Perhaps to avoid another bombshell from the informant of doom).

She brought out the goods she bought and continued with her calculations.

He continued on his phone, his hands scrolling up, and occasionally squinting his eyes as he read something.

She called out to him, "Director, abeg come help me calculate this thing, e be like say I dey do mistake."

He stood up, even as he walked towards her direction, his eyes was still on the phone.

=============================

Attention! Time! Attention! Time!

What we all have in common, but use differently.

The internet and trending topics have made it so easy for our time and attention to be consumed subtly, day in and day out.

Why do most persons habitually give attention to all manner of news?

Are they aware that such isn't good for one's health?

Watch what an expert says about this:


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wG54fZJUD2k

Can we incrementally grow in knowing what should consume our time and what shouldn't?

The internet, will you use it to better your life or waste your time, your life?

Observations of an Intentional Victor

N.B. This is the last post on this thread. Another thread for this will be opened. The new thread name is: Observation of an Intentional Victor.