APOLOGY LETTER TO LEICESTER CITY FC

Dear LCFC,

This is not an easy letter to write considering how I’ve been antagonistic to your success almost throughout the season and repeatedly downplayed your fast, direct and purposeful brand of counter-attacking football just because you’re a rival club and you clearly posed a threat to my team’s tittle ambitions.

I’m burying my head now in utter shame.

On the 24th of May 2015 when the English Premier League (EPL) wrapped up with your team barely escaping relegation and at the start of the 2015/2016 football season when your squad managed by Claudio Ranieri who was returning to England with a somewhat tarnished reputation, having just been fired as manager of the Greek national team, nobody, absolutely nobody gave you a chance.

Nobody even expected you to qualify for the Europa League let alone be crowned kings of England, a feat which has now secured you a place in the Champions League next season to play with the crème de la crème in Europe.

There’s a part of me that like to feel justified for writing you off. That’s because of my conviction that not even a single member of your squad or staunchest supporter believed the Premier League trophy would be coming to the King Power Stadium in May – reasons being that you barely escaped relegation the season before, you didn’t have Lionel Messi in your side and were bereft of the financial muscle.

But I should have changed my mind in January, February or even March, I never did.

So sorry Leicester, I was so wrong. So horribly wrong.

After you only signed Robert Huth, N’golo Kante and Shinji Okasaki for a combined fee of around £33 million in the summer of 2015, I thought those players were nobodies.

Those signings together with other members of your squad churned out results week in week out in remarkable fashion including inflicting impressive defeats on perennial title contenders like Manchester City and Chelsea so much so that many people started saying, ‘’this is too good to be true’’.

Then pundits and fans predicted that a time will come when you’ll experience a bad spell that will cost you the tittle. I waited for that time, it never came. All I saw was a team getting better and better with each game and defying all the odds.

I can even think of one specific occasion when the season was half way gone. I was listening to a football show on radio and sent this text message:

‘Leicester City have been the dark horse of the season thus far. Will they clinch the title? Call be a joker if you like but I reckon they won’t be able to sustain their momentum till May.’

Oh how wrong was I, again!

I’ve been so impressed by the brilliance of your manager all season. Your squad’s togetherness is admirable as is your fighting spirit.

When it became clear my team wasn’t going to be champions and it became a two-horse race (between you and Tottenham Hotspurs), I found myself in a very awkward position - I had to choose between two teams I disliked. Strange as the situation was, I chose you without thinking twice. I became your supporter until the end of the season at least. After all, I hitherto didn’t have any reason to dislike you but Tottenham I’ve disliked since my love affair with a certain Premier League club.

(Whoever understands rivalries in English football perhaps now know the team I support). 😀

In a season where Chelsea have imploded, Manchester City have been indifferent, Manchester United have been mediocre and Arsenal have been Arsenal, no one will argue that you thoroughly deserve to be champions.

Your achievement is special, unprecedented and inspiring. No doubt it will go down as one of the most astounding chapters in the biggest story the Premier League has ever told.

Congratulations!



Kind regards,
Joe

SEEING THROUGH THE EYES OF LOVE

Between the late 90s and early 2000s I spent half a decade in the seminary learning Latin. It wasn't my favourite subject but I enjoyed it. Despite devoting so much time in learning it, I'd be the first to admit that my Latin isn't great at the minute,  perhaps I've just been less motivated to practice especially now the language is becoming extinct.

However, no matter how rusty I am I'll never forget this quote I learnt many years ago: "Nemo dat qoud non habet" meaning "You cannot give what you don't have".
When it comes to love this holds true because you can't really love others if you don't first love yourself.  So my question is, how real is self-love? Again how much of it do we really practise? Why would someone who claims to love himself enjoy being blind?
I bet you didn't catch that, I'll come back shortly to what I mean but permit me to digress a little.

Did you hear the story of Farkhunda whose life was wickedly taken away by her compatriots a while back? If you didn't, have a read:

http://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/afghan-woman-stoned-set-alight-after-allegedly-burning-quran-n327001

(By by the way, Farkhunda has since been proved innocent and contrary to reports was mentally stable. Her attackers have been sentenced to death and others to various jail terms).

Back to self-love in relation to blindness. Here's what I mean: many of us have chosen to be blind to the sufferings of others, we turn our faces away, we refuse to wear their shoes and are completely insensitive. We don't care about the sick as long as they are not family. We don't care about destitutes as long as we are not government. We don't care about ebola as long as it's not our country. We don't care about earthquake ravaged Nepal as long as no relative of ours live there. Yes, friends might not be involved but life is involved!

"Okay what can I do?" you say. Do what you'd like people do for you if you swapped places. Do something, anything; make a phone call, give, pray, just show solidarity! We may not be connected by blood but all people belong to the same human family. Think, we even breathe the same air!

It is very easy to spew words of hate because we haven't walked in people's shoes. Do you know the battles they have fought or are still fighting? Do you know about their background? Have you got a clue how they were raised? I bet you don't know their stories. We don't know and sometimes we choose not to know yet we label them "addicts", "fat", "good-for-nothing", "childless", "divorcee".

We may not admit it but maybe deep down we don't accept people as much as we should. If we did we'd be more caring and less critical.

A single mother moved into a new neighbourhood and started living in a flat Mrs Donald tried purchasing for her sister weeks earlier but without success. One morning while Mrs Donald was having breakfast with her hubby, she looked out the window and saw their new neighbour  hanging washed clothes on the line and said; "Honey that lady doesn't know how to wash, her clothes aren't clean, she must be a sloppy mother. I can't believe they wear those filthy clothes!"
A few weeks later Mrs Donald looked out the window and the clothes were so clean and bright. She was surprised,  called her husband and said; "Look honey, I can't believe it. She finally learned how to wash ".
The husband smiled and said; "Honey I got up ahead of you this morning and cleaned our window!"
There are many Mrs Donald in our world today!

It's startling but true: many of us have blood on our hands! Yes, you read that right. While there are souls in prison, we’re actually not free. We only roam the streets freely because we 'tongue-killed'. But that organ called tongue can be lethal!
Everyday people commit suicide or at least contemplate it because of the poisonous words we spew. Those words become even more toxic when it comes from people they least expect it from.
There's no perfect person but really no one deserves any of your poison because you had a bad day in the office or because you're experiencing strife in your marriage. Nobody deserves to be your victim just to make you feel better. We really don't win by sinking people down, rise above that!

You'll be surprised how much things can change when you start feeling others. Anytime I try to wear the shoes of some mothers I'm amazed how they manage to remain sane after every 24 hours. Their expertise in managing the home is  quintessential of how selfless they can be.
I remember how my mum used to get out of bed very early, clean the house, make breakfast for the family, rush to work, keep track of which food item is running out, the ones that need to be bought on her way back, plans how to go pick us from school etcetera. In the midst of all that she still managed to focus on her work. Then after work she runs into the kitchen to prepare dinner and the next day she starts all over! Yet they say women are weak?!

Today choose to be different, the world is already full of selfless and mean people, do small things in great ways. Prove you love yourself by saying no to blindness,  open your eyes to see and feel others.

When strangers start living like neighbours, the world will be a better place.
 󾬑

CALL OF NATURE: STRANGE PLACES WE'VE TAKEN A DUMP

There was a time when as infants we could do a poo not minding when, where or how because there would always be mummy to clean after us and ditch the nappy.

The post nappy years saw our parents/guardians finally allowing us take responsibility of our yansh and sh*t business. They began teaching us toilet techniques and hygiene. I recall as a child how I was introduced to potty (do kids still use that)? Am I the only one who still remembers what it felt like to use WC for the first time after graduating from using potty and being told by my parents to always hold firmly to the seat with both hands? They would say; ‘’arrange your yansh well o to gauge properly!’’

I understand everyone’s childhood was different and some never had the luxury of using WC until very late on. They freely downloaded on newspapers, did it in the bush or had to do it in polybags aka shot-put – my favorite during my foremost uni years in Nigeria.

It is no news that toilet culture in Nigeria is crap. I’m a bit of a germophobe, I just can’t stand public toilets, (I get terrified by most of them) except when I’m lodging in an hotel or outside the country where it often looks cleaner. In fact my public toilet experiences in Nigeria is a story for another day. So for me, right from my boarding school to university days shot-put was always a reliable alternative whenever I was outside the comfort of home.

But this thing called sh*t…..it can embarrass sombori ehn! It is the only thing that doesn’t respect one’s race, religion, status or tittle. When it calls you’ve got to answer. If you doubt me and think you’re strong , pray you never get pressed on a 7 hours bus trip or suddenly develop a runny bowel during an exam/interview or even when in traffic. I find pee easier to manage but its brother poo, very mean and brutal!

Just last month, as old as I am I defecated on my pant when I couldn’t hold on anymore. That came after I was forced to ditch my Sunday service hoping to make it home in time before releasing. What exacerbated the situation was that there was no lavatory nearby so I had to trek for another 10 minutes in that messy state. I was mortified!

A while back I heard of a guy who was driving and felt the need to do a serious number 2, with no houses or toilet in sight, he spread plastic bags on the floor of his car and emptied his bowel there. He wrapped his dump so well, you could have thought it was a parcel, he put it in the trunk of his car and almost emptied a container of air freshener inside his car. Another told a story of how she pulled over inside a bush when she once had a messed up stomach and using the door of her car to cover, she freely manured the vegetation, wiped herself with handkerchief and zoomed off.

So yeah, sh*t indeed happens!

There are certain things in life that just gives absolute pleasure but what can compare to the  pleasure and relief one gets when you finally pour the damn thing out in the loo after holding on for so long? Call me weird if you like but it is the best feeling ever!

So guys, am I the only adult who has splattered poop all over my pants? Please share your awkward sh*t experiences. Ladies don’t even pretend you don’t shyte. 😀