OMG! I Dint Just Forget Our Anniversary!

"Oh My God! Adeyinka are you that bad at remembering dates?!"

I just realized that today marks a year I started this blog and had my first post. Too late to compose a good write up for today, so I thought I'd just show what my first post was like. I would like to add that you do post your comments after, to let me know YOU have been here, I would really appreciate it, thanks for reading my blog and don't forget to come back here. God bless you. Click on the link to read my first blog

An introduction to me.

My Dorky Yoruba Tongue: The Journey To Cultural Identity

“Ta ba n sun kun, A ma n riran.”

Don’t be deceived, you don’t want to hear me speak what I just wrote in Yoruba. If you don’t understand the language, don’t worry I didn’t insult you, in fact I can still be sold out by my mother and father tongue.

Manny, one of the teenagers in the teens’ Church choir just laughed at me as he said “Aunty, you’re speaking your Yoruba like Igbo”, the others joined him in the laugh and they had that look in their eyes that said ‘Your Yoruba is Dorky’.
No? I’m not angry…Why was I trying to speak the Yoruba sef?  LOL! This was not the first time anyway; I get the social perception of not being Yoruba most times. No matter how I felt I was trying to speak this Yoruba judiciously in the university, I was still accused of not knowing how to speak well or not speaking at all. I was always wise not to try speaking the language to justify myself, even when I was compelled to do so, I’d be shooting myself in the leg if I made that mistake. Doing it consciously for four years and not getting it right? I could hide for only two sentences before I get discovered.

I got home and told my mother I was done with speaking Yoruba (I wish!).

And I’ve always had a good performance in the language as a subject o. In my WAEC and NECO I had B’s in Yoruba, throughout that session in JSS1 I had 100% in Yoruba and got a prize for it, even when I schooled in Osogbo where pupils were normally Yoruba speaking and needed to be fined for vernacular, I topped the class in Yoruba language also. So what on earth was the problem?

I believe I was trained with both English and Yoruba though, my siblings think it was just English first, but I think I liked English better and it’s not like I’m good at it sef.  As I grew, if not my parents, my aunts, uncles and other relatives insisted on my speaking Yoruba, but I had realized my strong will already and refused even if they threatened. Some of them even jokingly called me oyinbo.
No matter the environment, my tongue was stuck on speaking English. Though all of my education was located in the south western Nigeria, I spoke English, till I got to the University.

Something changed, I wanted my cultural identity. No one thought I was Yoruba from my looks (I wonder how they judge by looks) till I told them i was, one of my classmates even called me YorubaIgbo often and if I kept blasting in English language, how would they know? So, I decided to get my identity through speaking my mother tongue and it obviously is not werking.

I do love my ethnic group a lot, the people, the language and its art, the art itself, the culture, the artifacts, the excesses, the behavioural dispositions, the accent, the fashion sense, the good bad and ugly, you name it. The truth is that I really do have my cultural identity; it’s not just in the packaging. LOL!

Church Vs The Fashionista: The Fear of Being Preached At

One Friday afternoon, after I was done with a meeting with the Charity organization I was a member on campus, I was headed for my room, I met one of my friends *Shina, who used to attend my Christian fellowship once upon a time. My phone’s battering was running down and I didn’t want it to automatically power off soon but I didn’t mind sacrificing time to inquire of his welfare, at least he wasn’t on the run to another lecture this time.

 So, how was he doing? Sometime ago, he told me he was busy in Lagos with the fashion industry, so he wasn’t always around for Sunday services in my fellowship and had to attend another that held their meeting in the evening if he did at all. Now, he was less busy but wasn’t attending any Church. To get the reason why, I had to press further. So he said it was because he wanted to avoid being criticized for his dress sense.

Let me paint a picture of his appearance. His hair is dyed gold (Or is it blonde?) with brown, bluish-green contact lenses, pencil jeans, bogus footwear and any other thing that’s fad. Not so conventional for naija right? But he didn’t want to be judge by the way he dressed, he said “I don’t know why people would see me and say I can’t be Christian because of the way I dress, I’m into fashion and I do dress like it.” (I paraphrased)

His fashion sense may even make you question his sexual orientation. At least I have, in my thoughts, and not had enough nerve to confront that aspect.

I believe *Shina is not the last of his kind in Church; I believe you do see people who you think their fashion sense is kind of overboard in Church.

Does dressing what’s in vogue have anything to do with your spirituality?

Should we preach at people like this in Church?

Should they resort to Home Chapel like *Shina has?

Should we throw them out of the flock so they won’t pollute it?

Should they change their dress sense to at least please the Church?

What would Jesus do?

These are the thoughts that went through my head after I had parted ways with *Shina. I seem to consider both sides, that is the church and fashionistas like *Shina and I’m not sure whose attitude I totally support.

Your view on this is highly appreciated. You could help someone get it right.

 *Shina is used to protect the identity of my friend.

Children's Day? :-(

"After we had rehearsed that verse repeatedly they were singing it like they were intoxicated or something. I was pissed and yes I felt like whipping all of them."

We were supposed to gather for the last rehearsal more like 'touching up', A parent walked up to me and accused me of not allowing her son to participate in the choir, saying he said so. Finding out who her son was I told her he could not join contrary to the claim that he knew the song, because he was not present for the rehearsal and we had changed the song.

Even if we had not changed the song, I wouldn't have allowed him join them. I 
wonder what value system parents are teaching their wards. Or are they still leaving the responsibility to the teachers both in school and church to train their wards morally? Why are some parents so lazy to do what's right and be examples to their children, they don't teach them commitment, discipline and obedience amongst other virtues and they expect them to get good results, to be seen in the front line, and to be praised?!

More than half of them came late to church. We ministered our song, they sang the song like they just heard it for the first time, missed the beats, notes, tempo, just name it. After service and the celebration, I had a word with them and trust me I didn't pat them on the back.

I believe in them, and I won't leave them to lazily allow God's greatness in them rot. I'm going to keep them on their toes.

I so much anticipated for how this day would turn out, but it turned out to be disappointing.

I hope you don't think I'm evil, I just can't settle with their mediocrity.