Ayo Sogunro replies Sadiq Abacha's open letter to Prof Wole Soyinka

Dear Sadiq Abacha,

I do not know you personally, but I admire your filial bravery—however misguided—in defending the honour of your father, the late General Sani Abacha. This in itself is not a problem; it is an obligation—in this cultural construct of ours—for children to rise to the defence of their parents, no matter what infamy or perfidy the said parent might have dabbled in.

The problem I have with your letter, however, arises from two issues: (i) your disparaging of Wole Soyinka, who—despite your referral to an anecdotal opinion that calls him as “a common writer”—is a great father figure, and a source of inspiration, to a fair number of us young Nigerians; and (ii) your attempt to revise Nigerian history and substitute our national experience with your personal opinions.
Therefore, it is necessary that we who are either Wole Soyinka’s “socio-political” children, or who are ordinary Nigerians who experienced life under your father’s reign speak out urgently against your amnesiac article, lest some future historian stumble across the misguided missive, and confuse the self-aggrandized opinions of your family for the perceptions of Nigerians in general.

Your letter started with logical principles, which is a splendid common ground for us. So let us go with the facts: General Sani Abacha was a dictator. He came into power and wielded it for 5 years in a manner hitherto unprecedented in Nigerian history. Facts: uncomfortable for your family, but true all the same.

Now, for my personal interpretations: between 1993 and 1998 inclusive, when your dada was in power, I was a boy of 9 to 14 years and quite capable of making observations about my political and cultural environment. Those years have been the worst years of my material life as a Nigerian citizen. Here are a few recollections: I recollect waking up several mornings to scrape sawdust from carpentry mills, lugging the bags a long distance home, just to fuel our “Abacha stoves” because kerosene was not affordable—under your father. I recollect cowering under the cover of darkness, with family and neighbours, listening to radio stations—banned by your father. I recollect my government teacher apologetically and fearfully explaining constitutional government to us—because free speech was a crime under your father’s government. Most of all, I remember how the news of your father’s death drove me—and my colleagues at school—to a wild excitement, and we burst into the street in delirious celebration. Nobody prompted us, but even as 13 and 14 year olds, we understood the link between the death of Abacha and the hope of freedom for the ordinary man.

These are all sorry tales, of course. Such interpretations would not have occured to the wealthy and the privileged under your father’s government, but they were a part of the everyday life of a common teenager under that government. The economics were bad, but the politics were worse. And I am not referring to Alfred Rewane, Kudirat Abiola and the scores killed by the order of your father. Political killings are almost a part of every political system, and most of those were just newspaper stories to us. In fact, I didn’t get to read most of the atrocities until long after your father died. So, these stories did not inform the dread I personally felt under your father’s regime. And this was true for my entire family and our neighbors.

Instead, the worry over our own existence was a more pressing issue. Your father, Sani Abacha was in Aso Rock, but his brutality was felt right in our sitting room. We were not into politics and we didn’t vocally oppose Abacha, yet we just knew we were not safe from him. You see, unlike any dictatorship before or after it—your father’s government personally and directly threatened the life and freedoms of the average Nigerian. Your father threatened me. And if your father had not died, I am confident that I would not be alive or free today.

Think of that for a while.

Now, let’s come to Wole Soyinka. First: you can never eradicate the infamy of your father’s legacy by trying to point out the failings of another Nigerian. Remember what you said: A is A.  Abacha is Abacha. And no length of finger pointing will wash away the odious feeling the name of Abacha strikes up in the mind of the average Nigerian. Second: Don’t—as they musician said—get it twisted: Wole Soyinka did not antagonize your father just because he was a military man—Wole Soyinka was against your father’s inhumanity. Your father was intolerant of criticism beyond belief. Your father made military men look bad. Your father’s behavior was so bad it went back in time and soiled the reputation of every military man before him. Your father, finally, made Nigerians swear never—ever—to tolerate the military again. Soyinka may have worked with the military before—but your father ensured that he will never work with the military again. Do you see? Three: Evil comes in many forms: there is no qualification by degree. There is no “good” evil thing. Sani Abacha, Boko Haram, Hitler, slavery—they all fit into the same category of misfortunes. Soyinka is right: Abacha was just as bad as Boko Haram is—deal with it. Four:Soyinka has been kind enough to limit his criticism to the unenviable awards this inept government has given your father. But, you see, in a saner political system, we wouldn’t just ignore your father, we would have gone one step further and expunged the Abacha name from all public records. Wiped without a trace. Abacha would forever be a cautionary tale against the excesses of political power. In a saner political system.

Abacha was brutal—and Soyinka was one of those individuals who gave us inspiration in those dark days. He was part of the team that founded the underground radio station to counter your father’s activities. Let me rephrase in pop culture language: Wole Soyinka was the James Bond to your father’s KGB. Most of the influential people either kept quiet or sang the praises of your father to stave his wrath. But a few like Soyinka spoke, wrote and even went militant against Abacha. But at the end, even Soyinka who never ran from a fight had to run from your father. That was how terrible things were. And now you want Soyinka to join the praise singers of your father? I’m not certain Soyinka has grown old enough to forget how he escaped your father,slipping across the border in disguise. You will have to wait awhile to get that praise from him.

Now, back to you. You have a deluded sense of your father’s role in the progress of Nigeria’s history. Nigeria has managed to be where it is today, not because of leaders like your father—but in spite of leaders like your father. This is a testament to the Nigerian spirit of resilience, and our unwavering optimism in a better future. You owe every Nigerian an apology for daring to attribute this to the leadership of Abacha. Those “achievements” you believe were accomplished under your father were simply all the things he had to do to keep milking the economy, and thereby perpetuate himself in power—they benefited Nigeria only if, by Nigeria, you meant your family and your cronies.

Your tone is that of a white master who justifies his oppression because he clothed and fed his black slaves. That is what your father did. The fact that we choose not to regurgitate, and reflect on that socially traumatic period doesn’t mean we accept it as your entitlement. We have not forgotten, and we will never forget. Sani Abacha raped Nigeria. Your father raped us. Your father raped us and then pressed some change into our hands. And he then tried to marry us forcefully, too. You may think all this is well and good—but then you’ve never been raped before.

But we now live under a democracy—the kind your father denied us—and so you are free to talk. And so you are free to insult the people who ensured that your father had sleepless nights. Had the revolution your father rightly deserved happened, you—and the rest of your family—would have been lined against a wall, before you could pen one article, and shot.

And we would probably have cheered.

But we live under a democracy now—a system of government where even the scions of former oppressors can talk, and write freely, about the benefits of dictatorship. That’s a democracy. A concept your father wouldn’t have understood.

Regards,

Ayo Sogunro

**** Ayo Sogunro is a Nigerian lawyer and writer. Check on his blog at ayosogunro.com

Sadiq Abacha writes open letter to Prof Wole Soyinka

Sadiq Abacha, the son of Nigeria's former military dictator Sani Abacha, wrote an open letter to Prof. Wole Soyinka in response to the Nobel Laureate's article on the Nigerian government centenary celebration titled "The Canonization of Terror." 

This open letter was posted on Sadiq's sister, Gumsu Sani Abacha's Facebook page. 

Here we go!

If you want to think, speak and act logically then you should know all three.

1. The law of identity
2. The law of excluded middle
3. The law of non contradiction.

Now let’s look at each one of these and see what they mean in practice.

1. The law of identity
The law of identity means that things are what they are, which at first doesn’t seem very illuminating, but wait; it implies also the following, that things are what they are, whether you like them or not, it implies that things are what they are whether you know them or not, it implies that things are what they are whether you agree with them or not. However, if you don’t like the facts as they are you are going to have to put up with them, because facts are what they are, if it’s raining on your golf day, get used to it! Because the facts are what they are and are often not what you want them to be, like if the traffic lights turn red when you approach, stop complaining! The law of identity means that you must adapt yourself to the facts and start your work from there, it implies that the facts will not bend to meet your expectations. You must first adapt yourself to what life is and then get to work changing and improving things in your life, be brave to meet reality as it really is and not how you would wish it to be.
2. The law of excluded middle
The law of excluded middle means that you should give a straight yes or no answer always and there is no middle ground. The law means that there is no kinda yes and kinda no, there is no ‘sort of’ being married because you are either married or you are not, you are either a thief or you are not, you are either on time or not, you are either living in Nigeria or you are not. The law is the idea that you should not try to keep all of your options open by staying in the middle or hedging, when it suits you, like when you accepted an appointment during IBB’s regime as chairman of FRSC. I bet that was a military regime you partook in. Please pick one wife and state your claim 100% to her, pick one idea and go for it 100%! Decide and commit Sir! There you might find great power and self satisfaction in the doctrine of decide and commit. No half way measures, no middle ground, exclude the middle! Here! The law of excluded middle Sir.

3. The law of non contradiction
The law of non contradiction says don’t contradict yourself simple. If you say you will be there then be there. If you say you will do it then do it. Don’t say or fight for one thing and then do the opposite. Don’t say one thing and then later deny that you said it. Don’t say one thing and then later contradict it. Be consistent in your thoughts and actions. Observing someone who was a socialist in the morning but then became a capitalist in the evening is a textbook on contradiction, these are two polar opposites, such a person is clearly inconsistent and is therefore considered a flip flop, confused, easily led or misled or at best a lunatic who has no clear understanding of the basis of either doctrine.

Apply these three logics to others with consistency and then you can ask for the same or expect the same from others, and then you can also ask for others to deal with facts not fantasy, which is the law of identity. Ask others to make up their mind to decide and commit. The law of excluded middle.Then ask others to follow through on the things that they say they would do. The law of non contradiction.

Sir, I believe brilliance is not perfection. I have grown and watched you criticize regime after regime and at that young and naive age I was thinking why wouldn’t this man just contest to be president so that Nigeria can be saved, I would have defiantly voted for Mr Soyinka if it would have brought an end to Nigeria’s woes. To my utter surprise, I heard about your FRSC leadership and how funds were misused and a great deal of it unaccounted for. 
“Oh my God! In the end he turned out to be just the same as everybody else” were my next thoughts. My hopes for you, all ended up in great disappointment.

Here I find myself defending my father 15 years after his death because some of you have no one else to pounce on, or rather, you have chosen a dead person to keep pouncing on over and over again when you have more than an array of contestants.  A coward’s act I believe.  ”A common writer” is what I have heard you being referred to lately, and I believe a mature mind would now agree to such referrals. With all due respect, there is a great challenge that faces the country, we have to put our heads together, rather than clashing, our collective ships must sail in the same direction, let us leave the ghosts of past contention and face the future bravely as one, criticizing the past does not help the present or define a path to the future.

You say, with the weight of your sense of history and the authority you possess on national issues that ” a vicious usurper under whose authority the lives of an elected president and his wife were snuffed out” referring to my late father, you must be growing old, or you would rightly recall that that president elect you refer to did not die while my father was alive. Did you slyly change your facts to fit a history that would better serve your narrative, or are you just plain forgetful? Either way, it shows you are losing your grasp of reality.

Comparing my father’s leadership to Boko Haram’s current reign of terror,  is a rather cheap shot, you are in no position to examine, judge and sentence an entire regime based on the information you think you have, you are privy to almost none of the true facts, what is at your disposal is at best, hearsay, or were you ever minister of defence? Did you ever sit in during security meetings, evaluate the facts and subtleties of national security? You remind me of Obama criticizing the Republicans before he became a sitting president himself, vouching to put an end to all American occupation, this all came to an abrupt end once he had access to the briefs and security issues, economic and political, facing his nation. Surely he did what he could, and history will judge him. To lead is not to be a rock star, and to be a Nobel Laureate is not to be an antagonist of this country’s legacy. We are Africa’s leader, whether we like it or not, we cannot trivialize the centenary celebration, it happens only once, let us come together, if only for this one occasion and agree to disagree.
Open rebellion against the current government at this time, on the manner of the centenary celebrations, for whatever reason, is tactless, it is not about you, it is about our nation, our beloved country. There is a time and place for everything. My late father was a Nigerian, lived in Nigeria and died protecting our interests to the best of his ability, critiquing placing him on the honor roll, along with many deserving dignitaries is your right, you have the right to your own opinions, but you do not have the right to your own facts. Facts stand alone, regardless of who espouses them, let posterity judge, but you are clearly politicizing a dead issue, how could you not be? Having an issue with the naming of a hospital after the late General and leader? Really? Now?

It almost seems as if you want to turn back the hands of time, what else would you like to undo besides the naming of the hospital, would you like to unmake Bayelsa state, Zamfara state or the others?  What about the advances we made in commerce, reducing the inflation rate, what about security and welfare, how many projects, hospitals and schools were created? inflation went from 54% to 8.5%! my father oversaw an increase in our foreign currency reserves from 494 million dollars in 1993 to 9.6 billion dollars by the middle of 1997, that is unprecedented , 15 years after the PTF the benefits are still being reaped today in Nigeria, What of peace keeping and nation building, not just in West Africa but the entire continent, restoring democracy in Liberia and Sierra Leone, all these under my father’s leadership, are all these not laudable? Or would you like to undo them all. All this on 8$ per barrel of oil! You have to be kidding me.

You are a learned man, you would have to undo all your learning to knowingly wish to undo all these achievements! I will be the first to proclaim that my fathers leadership was not pitch perfect or spot free, that does not exist, maybe in utopia but not here on this earth, so let us keep our discourse set in the sphere of reality please, he deserves the award, and he did not campaign for it, let it go, Sir…and allow Nigeria to at least bask in our survival and endurance in our growing prosperity and development in these trying times. I have been accused of being an optimist, hence, I am optimistic that you will come around and accept that we can all come together and face the future together, forgive each other our wrongs while celebrating our rights, I am still an admirer of your works after all, however, I cannot and will not attempt to answer your every charge, this is not the time or place, this is a time for solidarity, if only you were wise enough to grasp this.
I applaud the patience of President Goodluck Jonathan and his composure and restraint in not having a knee jerk reaction at such a pivotal moment in our nations history, but you would mar the occasion, Sir, in the future, please pick your battles, and do better to safeguard your relevance,  Enough Sir!

Sadiq Abacha

"The carnonization of terror" by Prof Wole Soyinka

Prof. Wole Soyinka on Saturday March 1st, rejected the centenary award conferred on him by the Nigerian Federal Government because late military dictator, Gen. Sani Abacha, was included in the list of awardees.

The Nobel Laureate said sharing the centenary award with late former Head of State is an insult.

Read this article titled 'The Canonization of Terror' which was posted on his Facebook page.

The sheer weight of indignation and revulsion of most of Nigerian humanity at the recent Boko Haram atrocity in Yobe is most likely to have overwhelmed a tiny footnote to that outrage, small indeed, but of an inversely proportionate significance. This was the name of the hospital to which the survivors of the massacre were taken. That minute detail calls into question, in a gruesome but chastening way, the entire ethical landscape into which this nation has been forced by insensate leadership. It is an uncanny coincidence, one that I hope the new culture of ‘religious tourism’, spearheaded by none other than the nation’s president in his own person, may even come to recognize as a message from unseen forces.

For the name of that hospital, it is reported, is none other than that of General Sanni Abacha, a vicious usurper under whose authority the lives of an elected president and his wife were snuffed out. Assassinations – including through bombs cynically ascribed to the opposition – became routine. Under that ruler, torture and other forms of barbarism were enthroned as the norm of governance. To round up, nine Nigerian citizens, including the writer and environmentalist Ken Saro-wiwa, were hanged after a trial that was stomach churning even by the most primitive standards of judicial trial, and in defiance of the intervention of world leadership. We are speaking here of a man who placed this nation under siege during an unrelenting reign of terror that is barely different from the current rampage of Boko Haram. It is this very psychopath that was recently canonized by the government of Goodluck Jonathan in commemoration of one hundred years of Nigerian trauma.

It has been long a-coming. One of the broadest avenues in the nation’s capital, Abuja, bears the name of General Sanni Abacha. Successive governments have lacked the political courage to change this signpost – among several others - of national self degradation and wipe out the memory of the nation’s tormentor from daily encounter. Not even Ministers for the Federal Capital territory within whose portfolios rest such responsibilities, could muster the temerity to initiate the process and leave the rest to public approbation or repudiation. I urged the need of this purge on one such minister, and at least one Head of State. That minister promised, but that boast went the way of Nigerian electoral boast. The Head of State murmured something about the fear of offending ‘sensibilities’. All evasions amounted to moral cowardice and a doubling of victim trauma. When you proudly display certificates of a nation’s admission to the club of global pariahs, it is only a matter of time before you move to beatify them as saints and other paragons of human perfection. What the government of Goodluck Jonathan has done is to scoop up a century’s accumulated degeneracy in one preeminent symbol, then place it on a podium for the nation to admire, emulate and even – worship.

There is a deplorable message for coming generations in this governance aberration that the entire world has been summoned to witness and indeed, to celebrate. The insertion of an embodiment of ‘governance by terror’ into the company of committed democrats, professionals, humanists and human rights advocates in their own right, is a sordid effort to grant a certificate of health to a communicable disease that common sense demands should be isolated. It is a confidence trick that speaks volumes of the perpetrators of such a fraud. We shall pass over - for instance - the slave mentality that concocts loose formulas for an Honors List that automatically elevate any violent bird of passage to the status of nation builders who may, or may not be demonstrably motivated by genuine love of nation. According generalized but false attributes to known killers and treasury robbers is a disservice to history and a desecration of memory. It also compromises the future. This failure to discriminate, to assess, and thereby make it possible to grudgingly concede that even out of a ‘doctrine of necessity’ – such as military dictatorship - some demonstrable governance virtue may emerge, reveals nothing but national self-glorification in a moral void, the breeding grounds of future canker-worm in the nation’s edifice.

Such abandonment of moral rigor comes full circle sooner or later. The survivors of a plague known as Boko Haram, students in a place of enlightenment and moral instruction, are taken to a place of healing dedicated to an individual contagion – a murderer and thief of no redeeming quality known as Sanni Abacha, one whose plunder is still being pursued all over the world and recovered piecemeal by international consortiums – at the behest of this same government which sees fit to place him on the nation’s Roll of Honor! I can think of nothing more grotesque and derisive of the lifetime struggle of several on this list, and their selfless services to humanity. It all fits. In this nation of portent readers, the coincidence should not be too difficult to decipher.

I reject my share of this national insult.

Wole SOYINKA.

POWER OF A WOMAN.....Married or not you should read this

“When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?

I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.

I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully. My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life lacked intimacy. I drove to office…. jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind…I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.

She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until deaths do us apart. Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears.

I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart. That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed -dead. My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce.— At least, in the eyes of our son—- I’m a loving husband….

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves.

Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.

Letter of Apology from Okey bakasi to NNPC

Letter of Apology 

Dear NNPC,

Please forgive me and other Nigerians for helping you look for your missing $20billion instead of minding our 'own business '.

We were misled by the following :

1. Sanusi; who said "your money " was missing when you, "the owner" has not said "your money" is missing. 

2. APC; who said the money must be accounted for when you "the owner " is not complaining.

3. House of Representatives ; who said you should account for all your income since the past 5yrs. 

Now that you're angry with us and we have felt your anger in the petrol stations around the country (fuel scarcity) , the 3 groups that put us in this problem with you have not said anything and don't have any alternative.
We have no other choice but to ask you for forgiveness. Please give us fuel.

You are aware that your sister, PHCN is also angry with us for how she was sold and has since refused to give us power.

My fear is that if you don't do something urgent now that our brothers in the north are still busy killing people, our brothers in the south may use the small fuel left in their homes to set a few "things" ablaze and Fire Services don't even have fuel and water to respond. 

We promise not to ask you about "your missing money" again if you can resume fuel supply.
God is watching all of us oh! Hmmmmm

Truly yours,
Okey bakassy

http://www.nairaland.com/1654884/okey-bakassi-writes-letter-nnpc

The Unofficial Goldman Sachs Guide To Being A Man

I bumped into this article while surfing the internet. The topic was interesting but not unfamiliar, so i thought to myself "this must just be one of those usual disappointing articles that end up wasting your time". But out of curiosity i decided to peep into and guess what,i am still amazed by this write-up.

I hope you enjoy it just as i did.

Stop talking about where you went to college.

Always carry cash.  Keep some in your front pocket.

Rebel from business casual. Burn your khakis and wear a suit or jeans.

It’s okay to trade the possibility of your 80s and 90s for more guaranteed fun in your 20s and 30s.

The best public restrooms are in hotels: The St. Regis in New York, Claridge’s in London, The Fullerton in Singapore, to name a few

• Never stay out after midnight three nights in a row … unless something really good comes up on the third night

You will regret your tattoos.

Never date an ex of your friend.

Join Twitter; become your own curator of information.

If riding the bus doesn't incentivize you to improve your station in life, nothing will.

Time is too short to do your own laundry. 


When the bartender asks, you should already know what you want to drink.

If you perspire, wear a damn undershirt.

You don’t have to like baseball, but you should understand the concept of what a pitcher’s ERA means.  Approach life similarly.

When people don’t invite you to a party, you really shouldn’t go.
 And sometimes even when you are invited, you shouldn’t go.
 


People are tired of you being the funny, drunk guy. 


When in doubt, always kiss the girl.

Tip more than you should.

You probably use your cell phone too often and at the wrong moments.


Buy expensive sunglasses.  Superficial? Yes, but so are the women judging you. And it tells these women you appreciate nice things and are responsible enough not to lose them.

If you want a nice umbrella, bring a sh*tty one to church.

Do 50 push-ups, sit-ups, and dips before you shower each morning. 


Eat brunch with friends at least every other weekend. Leave Rusty and Junior at home.

Be a regular at more than one bar.  

Act like you’ve been there before.  It doesn’t matter if it’s in the end zone at the Super Bowl or on a private plane.

A glass of wine or two with lunch will not ruin your day.


It’s better if old men cut your hair.  Ask for Sammy at the Mandarin Oriental Barbershop in Hong Kong.  He can share his experiences of the Japanese occupation, or just give you a copy of Playboy.

Learn how to fly-fish.  

No selfies. Aspire to experience photo-worthy moments in the company of a beautiful woman.

Own a handcrafted shotgun.  It’s a beautiful thing.

There’s always another level. Just be content knowing that you are still better off than most who have ever lived.

You can get away with a lot more if you're the one buying the drinks.

Ask for a salad instead of fries.


Don’t split a check.

Pretty women who are unaccompanied want you to talk to them.

Cobblers will save your shoes. So will shoe trees.

When a bartender buys you a round, tip double. 



The cliché is that having money is about not wasting time. But in reality, money is about facilitating spontaneity.

Be spontaneous.

Find a Times New Roman in the streets and a Wingdings in the sheets. She exists.

Piercings are liabilities in fights. 


Do not use an electric razor. 


Desserts are for women. Order one and pretend you don’t mind that she’s eating yours.


Buy a tuxedo before you are thirty. Stay that size.


One girlfriend at a time is probably enough.


#StopItWithTheHastags

Your ties should be rolled and placed in a sectioned tie drawer. 


Throw parties. 
But have someone else clean up the next day.

You may only request one song from the DJ. 


Measure yourself only against your previous self.

Take more pictures.  With a camera.

Place-dropping is worse than name-dropping.


When you admire the work of artists or writers, tell them. 
And spend money to acquire their work.



Your clothes do not match. They go together. 


Yes, of course you have to buy her dinner. 


Staying angry is a waste of energy.


Revenge can be a good way of getting over anger. 



If she expects the person you are 20% of the time, 100% of the time, then she doesn't want you.

Always bring a bottle of something to the party.



Avoid that “last” whiskey. You’ve probably had enough. 


Don’t use the word “closure” or ever expect it in real life. There may still be a mortally wounded Russian mobster roaming the woods of south Jersey, but we’ll never know.

If you are wittier than you are handsome, avoid loud clubs. 


Drink outdoors.
 And during the day.
 And sometimes by yourself.

Date women outside your social set. You’ll be surprised.


If it’s got velvet ropes and lines, walk away unless you know someone. 


You cannot have a love affair with whiskey because whiskey will never love you back.


Feigning unpretentiousness is worse than being pretentious. Cut it out with the vintage Polo and that ’83 Wagoneer in Nantucket. 

The New Yorker is not high-brow. Neither is The Economist. 


If you believe in evolution, you should know something about how it works.

No-one cares if you are offended, so stop it. 


Never take an ex back. She tried to do better and is settling with you.

Eating out alone can be magnificent. Find a place where you can sit at the bar.

Read more. It allows you to borrow someone else’s brain, and will make you more interesting at a dinner party – provided that you don’t initiate conversation with, “So, who are you reading …”

Ignore the boos. They usually come from the cheap seats.

Hookers aren’t cool, and remember, the free ones are a lot more expensive.

Don’t ever say, “it is what it is.”

Start a wine collection for your kids when they are born.  Add a few cases every year without telling them.  It’ll make a phenomenal gift in twenty years.

Don’t gamble if losing $100 is going to piss you off.

Remember, “rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men.” 

http://www.businessinsider.com/the-gselevator-guide-to-being-a-man-2013-9

26 Things That Happen When You Grow Up In An African House.

1. Your parents are basically demi-gods. It doesn’t matter if you learned that the sky is blue. If your parents say the sky is orange, the sky is in fact, orange. At least, in their presence.

2. Your parents will seldom ever admit they are wrong. And if and when they do, you will be too stunned to even believe it.

3. Your grandparents are the only people who can put your parents in their place. (And you will enjoy those moments.)

4. Your house is a free for all. At some point a relative, twice-removed, will be invited to stay for an extended-period of time.

5. You will likely be raised the old-fashioned way -“you spare the rod, you spoil the child” kind of old-fashioned way. In your adulthood, you’ll largely be grateful for it and you’ll always be able to tell the difference between people who were raised the same way and people who were not.

6. God help you if you’re living under your parent’s roof and you yell at them, slam a door in anger, and/or curse in their presence. Yeah, God help you.

7. The youngest child will be blamed for everything….until he or she is able to talk.

8. The oldest child will be blamed for everything that the younger children do.

9. If you cry while being accused of something, it is assumed that you are guilty.

10. Your parents will call you from upstairs, downstairs, outside, etc., to hand them something that is literally 10 centimeters away from them.

11. You will not leave your parents’ home without learning how to cook.

12. Religious attendance and practice is not an option.

13. Everyone who is older than you is your “auntie” or “uncle.” Calling them by their first name is basically a crime against humanity.

14. You will probably never meet all of your extended family because there are just so many of them.

15. This one specifically applies to most Nigerians (although I have to hand it to papa and mama Biakolo for not putting this kind of pressure on us): Doing well in school is not an option and by doing well, parents have expectations that you will be the best at everything. Example: If you get a 98%, they might ask, “What happened to the other 2%?” If you get a B, your parents will likely ask, “The person who got an A, do they have three heads?” Just do well in school.

16. Your friends better greet your parents first when they see them or that friendship is pretty much over. R-E-S-P-E-C-T is H-U-G-E.

17. Sleepovers at friends’ houses are mythical tales or basically only happen when your parents have known the family’s family since the beginning of time.

18. Another mythical tale – being in a serious relationship with anyone when you’re in your teens. And until your parents believe you are of, “courtship age,” they will refer to anyone you are dating as, “your friend.”

19. You will still be expected to have a traditional engagement/marriage regardless of where the person you’re marrying is from. (Have fun explaining the details of that to all your significant others!)

20. Your parents will talk to you in a lot of proverbs and metaphors. For example, when I was 12, I spent half a day trying to figure out what my dad meant when he said, “When I talk to you and advise you, do I talk with water in my mouth?” I eventually got it.

21. You will have maybe 3 conversations about sex with your parents – one when puberty starts to take its course, the second one when you start secondary school Biology, and the third one when you are about to leave home. The will all surprisingly sound like the Mean Girl’s quote, “Don’t have sex because you will get pregnant and die!” followed by “Do not bring shame to this family!” Got it parents, I can’t start dating until I’m married and I can’t have sex until after I’ve had children.

22. Your siblings will be the first people to bully the crap out of you. Later on, you’ll realize that they were preparing you for a big bad world out there.

23. If your entire full name is being called, and your native language is also being spoken, the day shall not pass without tears.

24. Soda in the fridge? Either your parents were in a REALLY good mood or there are visitors coming over.

25. Surprisingly, alcohol is a hit or miss with African parents. It depends on the set that you get. My dad drinks, my mum doesn’t (at all). I got to choose. I chose my dad’s viewpoint.

26. You won’t realize how incredibly hilarious and somewhat bizarre your upbringing was until you reach adulthood. And you’ll burst out into tears of laughter when you’re sitting next to an African woman who is telling her child who probably just got a B, “So the person who got an A, do they have three heads?” Hang in there kid, they secretly boast that they have the best children ever, just not to your face.

http://www.nairaland.com/1648426/26-things-happen-when-grow#21751267