Ministry of Naija Youth

Ministry of Naija youth

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March 27, 2018

First Gentleman with Wilson Orhiunu

Email: babawill2000@gmail.com Twitter: @Babawilly

Nigeria has a population of between 185 million and just fewer than 200 million depending on which way the Google wind blows you. No one seems to know the exact number but it is safe to say that the people outstrip the food, water, light, employment opportunities and housing supply.

With a literacy rate of 59.6 percent, there should be about 76 million people who don’t read or write. The remaining 110 million or so all read and write. With 50 percent of the population less than 30 years of age, there are about 60 million youths in desperate search for self-development and a better life in general.

Sixty percent of the youths are unemployed and therefore hungry. Who will lead them to a better life?

Aso Rock has its own minister of youth but what use is a minister of youth who has no data on the constituency? I doubt that Nigeria can produce a list of its unemployed youth complete with basic data such as dates of birth, sex and area of residency. How does one minister to people you have no information about?

Perhaps we have a minister of youth in America and we just don’t know it; His Excellency Mark Zuckerberg (owner of Facebook, Instagram and WhatsApp).

With a total of about 17 million Facebook users and 50 million or more WhatsApp users, ZuckerMan provides service to the Nigerian literate youth on a daily basis. They, in turn, devote about 20 minutes of their time daily to his platforms.

Most young people in Nigeria do not have any interaction whatsoever with the Federal Ministry of Youth and Sports Development.

A minister of youth not interacting with the youth; is that one too a minister of youth?

Nigeria’s youth are hungry and unemployed and many are now involved in business ventures that rely on interacting with customers via social media platforms. My friend yesterday sent me pictures of an estate in Lekki with apartments for sale on WhatsApp.

Many youth and even older people have made deals on the WhatsApp platform so it is safe to say that ZuckerMan’s platforms are providing a source of income to young Nigerians (there are 83 million fake accounts on Facebook but this is not an article on 419 marriage and love proposals).

Facebook and Instagram are useful tools in the Nigerian music and film industries. DIY public relation is now the norms. Publicity campaigns can now be done at minimal cost on these platforms thus giving new acts in any part of Nigeria a chance to “go viral like chicken pox”.

The way everything is sold along the road in the traffic congestion on Lagos roads is the same way things get marketed on WhatsApp.

Cars, hair, land, furniture, the list is endless.

All good ministers must have friends in high places (or at least know how to get their phone numbers).

Larry Page, the CEO of Google, is a power guy. He owns Google, AdSense, Blogspot.com and YouTube.

Most of the young entrepreneurs in Nigeria use Google in one way or the other. IrokoTV, the African movie streaming site, makes use of YouTube via its IrokoTV/Nollywood page. The Uber and Taxify drivers use Google Map.

Nigerian music as we know it today will disappear if YouTube shuts down. A viral music video usually confers stardom on an artiste.

The popular MarkAngelComedy YouTube Chanel with 1.8 million YouTube subscribers has made Emmanuela “this is not my real face” a household name. With over 150 comedy skits with some recording over 10 million hits, they are providing employment to young people using this Google-owned platform.

Nigeria’s bloggers with their huge following are all the subjects of Larry Page in the same way Nigerian were subject to the Queen in colonial times. This, however, is an invisible colonisation. You never see Larry Page visiting but Google can shut down any blog they wish at any time.

If we add in Class Captain Uncle Bill Gates and Uncle Tim Cook (Apple CEO) as helpers and advisors to ZuckerMan, one could effectively say he has the whole West African youth ecosystem in his pockets. My quick survey of friends showed that Nigerians love Windows and Apple products more than their politicians.

Facebook has plans to beam the internet to millions of people via satellite. Just imagine what might happen if they pull it off. If the youth are promised free internet for one year, it is not just a foreign coach of the Super Eagles we would be talking about, it would be ZuckerMan for President.

I pity the Telecommunication industry. WhatsApp has eaten into their text messages revenue but surely satellite internet will push them all to Nitel purgatory. Young readers, please ask your parents about Nitel.

If a man and his friends can provide employment for the youth, ehen? He can become president na.

Uncle Elon Musk will surely put a solar panel on every roof if President ZuckerMan asks him to.

Get Down Low

Go Down Low

12 March 2014 at 22:46

King James

When thou findest thyself at a feast and are plunged into the depths of merriment and lifted high up into the lofty places of oyoyo and miliki, be careful. Be careful lest the DJ bends that sweet arch of enjoyment at the critical moment to the great Kotoka airport and ushers in an Azonto Tsunami via Concorde. Verily verily I say unto you, temptation will come through Olamide (na ni) and he shall seductively implore thee to first of all, go down low. Before thou girdest thy loins and obey his instructions, consider. Art thou able to standest up if thou goest down low? When last goest thee down low? Is there work tomorrow and would you have recovered from thine exertions before then? Is there a good Samaritan in the vicinity, sober and strong enough to lift thee up peradventure thou art stranded on the dance floor like a heap of boiled yams the damsels hath pounded? Art thou in good fellowships with a masseur skilful with his hands and confident in his vocation like a work man with no need to be ashamed? If thine masseuse is female can thou beareth her talons (aka artificial nails) digging into thine flesh during the after party season?

King Afilaka the Third

Shebi we warned you but you no wan gbo.  Ẹni tí kò ní igi obì kì í léso.  Whoever does not have a kola-nut tree cannot have its fruits. Kabiyesi has spoken! How do the children enjoy the glory of bending down low without the means of performance; strong legs? Can the palm wine tapper reach the tree top without a harness? Can the grasshopper hop without legs? Can I rule my people without a palace? Can I be settled at night without an Olori? Yet I see my subjects aged over thirty attempting the impossible. Take advice in private my daughters and sons ejooor. You all need my fatherly and royal advice to dance that Azonto and prosper in life. Wisdom is everything, draw close to what you need the most. Ẹní gúnyán kalè yóò júbà ọbè   A person who has made pounded yams must pay homage to the stew. 

King Babawilly (Naija style)

Mai pipo don

 lose all their strong leg bicos of modern amenities. In those day African women dey dance the fire dance. Leg hard laik iroko. With firewood for head and pickin for back, dem fit hear music on di way home afta a long day for farm and dem go still get reserve power to bend down low. No shaking o. If party dey anoda village na so community go waka di waka for days. By di time dem reach di party dem for done lose three kilograms each. If na bride price dem dey go pay, dem go carry yams and palm wine follow bodi. No wonder say in those days na feast dem dey tek welcome visitor as visitor don lose weight before arrival. Once visitors reach and yu sing song, na den all dia talent go show. Leg and feet wey dey farm all day go begin contract laik machine. Na so dem go bẹrẹ mọlẹ all nait and dem no go feel am. Shebi dem don waka many miles and di fitness don enta leg. Those na di feet and leg wey wen snake hear dem dey come for bush, snake go pick race. Di kain iron leg wey dey tear cutlass.

Nowadays everybody na ajebuta. So so shoe, so so car rides. Persin go visit friend for moto and befor he arrive he don gain weight from di gala and chin chin wey he buy for road during go slow. Dis na afta he sidon for office all day with di only exercise being trip to photocopier and back. Upon dat snacks for road e go still chop up wen he land friend haus. Awa culture neva upgrade o. We still dey welcome visitor laik say dem waka three days to visit us. We dey prepare feasting table for visitor wey no need di calories.    Di only waka wey him do na from car inside compound to living room car; thirty meters pere.  Na dis kain big man and big girls no dey fit even pick up dia car keys wey fall for ground. Dem go dey look am for ground like say ground too far. Far pass wen God look di key from heaven sef. Na so driva or passer-by go run come pick di car key give dem as a mark of respect. Who tell una say persin wey old no suppose bend down again. Na di lazy pipo wey no fit go down low , na dem invent dis culture and tradition of picking things up for pseudo-elders. (people over thirty wey hammer  moni and big stomach).

But party dey intoxicating and wine dey shack di brain and deceive di memory. Once groove heat up na so DJ so fire Olamide and di fine modern women  on finer high heels go obey the clarion call to first of all go down low. As dem descend reach ground, eye go come clear and memory go correct imsef come remember dem say na twenty years ago dem last gather good leg strength. Na dat time dem go see say it is easier to go down than to ascend back up.

Dance floor also get other temptations o. Some damsels dem wey nak low cut jeans and lower cut blouses dey also bend down lowest even bifor music start. Dem laik to dey kneel down to dey greet yu ‘uncle, uncle’ while all dia assets dey juggle for front and di bright lacy red, blue  and pink pata dey climb up dia back laik spider man dey fly up wall. Up into di atmosphere up above their jeans e dey climb laik say e dey move from Niger Delta to Abuja. Bros no look o bicos dem fit hypnotize yu. Dis ones na professional bend down low practitioners. Dem dey practice all week to entice you so shine eye. Abi, are you a learner??

King Solomon.

Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Enjoy the wife of thine youth, whether she bend down low first of all or not at all. Even if she has to do her stretching and warm up first and can only mange a minor stiff graceless bend down low, be thou satisfied with drinking from thine own well. Be proud of what you have and enjoy the ‘moves’ in your family. All things are wearisome. Look! They say, something new. But it was there already; long ago. The azonto was there before our time. There is a time for everything under the heavens, a season to excel in every activity. Be patient for we all will not shine simultaneously. Some will shine on the dance floor but after the party they would be looking for taxis while others shine as they drive off in their Bentleys.  We cannot all be the Sister Sledge Greatest Dancer. All is vanity as the same end ultimately awaits everyone who attends a feast. No one lives forever.

King James

Shall one continue standing in powerless legs so that acceptance from our spouse may continue and abound? Shouldest we be consoled to the point of complacency just because we hear, ‘I love you just the way you are? Nay nay nay. For in all things we are more than conquerors. As a man thinketh in his heart so is he and before a woman even thinketh, she is. Practice therefore to show thyself approved. An azonto dancer with powerful legs who needeth not be ashamed. Rightly executing the skelewu, hip hop and azonto with speed, grace and aplomb. Practice is the key.

Babawilly For President

Your legs constitute about eighteen per cent of your body weight, so going down low by way of flexing the hips and knees with an erect spine means you must have the strength and balance to cope with about 82% of your body weight while at the same time moving in time with the beat. (If you weight 100Kg, your legs had to cope with 82Kg! (So much pressure on the knees).The best practice for strength and balance would be to use your own body weight. Balance something fragile and expensive on your head and attempt to crouch down and pick an object off the floor. You might fall a few times and loose a bit of money but with time you would get the hang of it.

 King Babawilly (Naija style)

Pipo wey wan excel need to use weight so. Na to squat for gym with laik 30Kg weights dey sweat am out four times a week na ni. No pain no gain. Wen bodi don strong, yua swag go dey kampe. Na so guys go dey spray yu moni bicos why? Yu go dey ko mọlé in slow and gracious motion and dance na moni. If yu no fit go gym, juss dey pactice for kitchen. Wen wata dey fire, no hang around dey waste time to wait for boiling point. Just grab di bag of Olu Olu 10Kg pounded yam flour in a tight embrace and dey do squats, up and down. If yu sweat inside di food sef, na dat one dey sweet pass. Abeg no loose balance enta hot wata come talk say na mi cause yua problem o. Ehen! If pounded yam don go low, ah, no practice with weight-less bag. Juss carry one of yua pickin dey dance  up and down. Abeg put mattress for floor first o. Ehen. Wen una fall knock head, make di pickin no come talk say na Babawilly exercise plan cause am to bi olodo for school because of head injury. Dats all

King Afilaka the Third

I am a distinguished and rich elder. I have been on the throne for twenty years now and you are all invited to my party. First of all you will all do bale for Kabiyesi. As you rise up you will drop you gifts in the corner and dance to the royal drummers. Woe betides you if you do not go down low. If it is pride that prevents your dancing in public, then this better ring true in your case- Abúlàńgà kì í ṣasán: bíyàá ò lórò baba a lówó lọwọ. The arrogant person is not arrogant for nothing; if his mother is not wealthy, his father must be rich. You proud people must proceed to drop a second present at my feet and spray my Oloris as they go down low to the sounds of my royal drummers.

References

1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVLvMGzsHFk

2. Yoruba Proverbs.. Oyekan Owomoyela. University of Nabraska Press. 2005 

Babawilly

Dr Wilson Orhiunu

12-3-2014

The Genesis of Zanku (Alternative History)

The Genesis of Zanku

It was a cold night in Agege and the lads were dancing at a street corner. Movement for the sake of just responding to the ancient equatorial beats of Africa was not how they got down. For the young and virile men, they danced to dramatize the painful conditions that they endure each day. Kunle was agile and high. He had drank some alcohol and had 300mg of Tramadol coursing through his blood like a high speed Okada galloping at the speed of light.

A talented dancer with the right instincts, he moved as one with the beat and suddenly began to hallucinate. Armies of centipedes and cockroaches marched in formation towards him, and not wanting to back down; he began to trample them underfoot with all his might. They died in droves and he kept on killing them, bouncing alternatively on both feet with both knees in a K-leg position (knock knees). Condition don get K-leg afterall. Kunle did not notice everyone had stopped dancing and had formed a circle around him. With muscles as taut as high- tension overhead electrical cables he overflowed with energy as he marched on as if at war. It was all done to the beat and a small crowd had gathered to watch. The scenes from the recent pirate copy of the Black Panther began to get regurgitated as he danced. His hands were held across his chest in a ‘Wakanda forever’ posture while his feet motored on like they were energised by nuclear reactors. He raised a cloud of dust and provoked great cheers from his observers. He dripped sweat like an outpost of Victoria Falls and someone tossed him a small white towel. With dazzling hand movements he caught the towel and began to dance with it rather than wipe the sweat off his brow. He was the orchestral genius of his own creation. He conducted his invisible musicians with his white towel and they heeded his commands. This was the Agege Philharmonic orchestra and he was conductor in chief. His 200 man orchestra were all crowded into two giant speakers that filled the air with the sound of music that shook the ground. Noise was the very life blood of this chaotic city. The audience paid no gate fee. A large bill was given to all at birth and they were all still paying a great price for being born Nigerian in this generation.

Suddenly there was an offensive by the cockroaches that had brought in an armoured vehicle that approached at great speed. Kunle leapt into the air channelling all the Shaolin movies he had watched from childhood and landed with a ferocious kick at the tank the way movie actors kick doors open.

The tank broken into a thousand pieces and someone shouted, ‘Gbe se!’ This one moment was the birth of a new dance craze; the Zanku. Others joined in and the feast of movement went on for three more hours till people began to collapse in sheer exhaustion.

Being mostly unemployed and brimming with street energy most of the lads were at the African Shrine the next day and continued where they left off. The dance spread like wild fire.

Modifications to the hand movements began. Latif who was an apprentice butcher at the local markets got bored with just crossing his arms Wakanda style, so started to dramatize the chopping of meat on a slab. He held his right hand like a sharp knife and began to chop his left forearm into bits with frequent movements, shaking his head uncontrollably in disbelief, all the while doing that electric foot work, stamping on insects and suddenly flying in the air to kick a flying mosquito to the shouts of, ‘Gbe se!’

These are the new generation. The Indomie generation who were born into 11% inflation, high unemployment, weak institutions and poor national infra structure.  They didn’t ask to be born into a tough environment but the two options for them were simple; sink or swim. Swimming comes with its own inbuilt depression as the current flows in an opposite direction, and just like a bad dream, great effort brings no progress. The pain is numbed with drugs and alcohol which leads to more problems. Yet the magical footwork never stops, just like the propellers on an outboard engine of a boat on the Lagos Lagoon. Once the legs stop moving, drowning soon follows. The dance is part of the hustle for survival. This is not having a good time; but staying alive. This is fighting for the right to be human, when denigration is served on a plate daily by a hostile environment in the tropical heat.

With the dance comes an undercurrent wave of subversion and animosity. The youth are angry at the earlier generation of leaders who did not give them a chance in life by laying good foundations decades ago. The Zanku dance is energetic and you could hear the sinews ask the leaders why this evident energy is not given the best chance to succeed. This is not ballet. These are protest intricate moves that have nothing to do with ‘enjoying life’.

The message is clear; the older generations cannot do what the youth can do. There are dances that are difficult to attempt and subsequently master. In Zanku, a great generational rift has been constructed as it is impossible to even attempt to do the dance above forty years of age. That vital ingredient of 'mad o' is the secret to learning how to indulge in this energetic convulsion to music. The weak knees and large bellies of the agbalagba leaders make them sluggish but still they retain great power in their right hand; for they sign all the cheques in the country (and power and policies follow the money). Zanku differentiates clearly between who the leaders of tomorrow are and who the ‘past their sell by date’ impostors are.  The young leaders need education for their energetic minds, affordable and accessible health, basic amenities that make modern life possible such as water, light, food and housing. The society has to be secure and free from terrorism so that the young people can compete with their contemporaries in China, Dubai, Russia, Europe and America.

The Indomie generation are not just satisfied with ‘Gbe body e!’ What they really want to do is ‘Gbe Cerebral Cortex e!’ on the world’s stages. Freedom to rub minds with any other leader on the planet being fully equipped with a sound education and backed by a working society.

Tramadol is a synthetic codeine analog with side effects that include headaches and seizures. Unfortunately this drug is being abused at an alarming rate.Some feel their destinies have been lost and they are already in a crisis; so what fear is there to having a seizure or getting addicted when all hope is lost. They stay drugged up, dance and forget the sorrow, tears and blood. Codeine cough linctus is another crowd favourite, used along with alcohol and Cannabis. These are all symptomatic of harsh socioeconomic realities that face contemporary Nigeria.

With so many insects crawling towards Nigeria’s millions of young people, just how much longer can they continue to stamp on adversity before succumbing to the inevitable exhaustion of hope? There is an African proverb (which I just made up) that says that, when you see the young men of the neighbouring village gather at their town square to sing and dance to war songs all night long; the wise will take heed.

Cowboy Movies

1.

An inglorious after taste

Stale fibres stuck between the molars

Evading the toothpicks of time

It lingers

I regurgitate a childhood

Wasted on cowboy movies

In innocence the sharp shooters were hailed

As bullets pierced through the land owners

Killers on fancy horses

Looking charming in hats

2.

The story line wildly doctored

Bespoke for the aggressor

Nameless red Indians aplenty

They chanted and danced in dust

They kissed their own footprints

While I clapped for the cowboys

We played with plastic horsemen

Silver guns and matching hats

Bang bang at land owners

Wish I knew we were next

3.

Resources are scarce on the planet

And compassion is nowhere

Big guns big victory

Big pens write big history

Grabbed land named Nigeria

Colonised all like Malaria

New rules, new dispensation

That first name must be English

New laws were to come

And a local army was trained

4.

Monkey no born goat

Cowboy born cowboys

International oppressors

Breed local oppressors

Fight breaks out in districts

With guns and bullets from abroad

We import the best machines

To kill one another

Palm oil, crude oil, cow oil

The fight just dey go on

5.

I regret those cowboy pictures

Those gifts in my chewing gum

Erase from my mind the Hollywood,

The bad and the ulgy.

The Acidulent seven

Reincarnated as herdsmen

The cowboys and the red Indians

Were movies, were mirrors

I should never applauded the scenes

Where the land owner gets shot

Babawilly

Dr Wilson Orhiunu

05/07/2019

The Hunt for 6 Pack

Behind every great fortune lies a great crime said French novelist, Honore de Balzac. Well, anything you can do, I can do better (Annie Get Your Gun-Betty Hutton and Howard Keel), and so try this for size- Underneath every great belly lays a great six pack. Babawilly; Nigerian something.
With my ground breaking quotation out of the way, let’s proceed with the real deal Holyfield. Where is my six pack? Who moved it? I wondered for a while till inspiration struck by way of the scripture – seek and ye shall find. Sometimes things declared missing were there all along, so just to be sure my six pack did not emigrate to David Beckham’s abdomen I started my search with a private Ultrasound scan as I would have been too embarrassed to tell my GP what I was searching for. I paid my cash and got my proof. They gave me a print out which showed that my Rectus Abdominis muscle was resting in peace. (Too much peace if you asked me).
Now that I was fully reassured that the muscle was there, my next stop was the gym. I took my belly straight to the gym and demanded an instant meeting with my trainer. I felt detached from my belly and I got that feeling parents get when they march their child to school for a meeting with the teacher asking why exorbitant school fees have not translated into an Albert Einstein level of mathematical abilities.
He looks at me without a word while I lambasted him for his lack of effort and talent. I told him how I paid him good money and was always at the gym on time yet when the Premiership foot games I watch come to an end, I am reminded of my abdominal muscular inadequacies when the players exchange shirts.
“Well Dr Orik… Oriun… is it ok if I just call you Wilson?”
“Call me what you what, just give me a six pack”.
“Well your records of attendance are not bad. One hundred and eighteen gym sessions in 2014. And I understand you do a fair bit of running”.
“I do”.
“You started the 2014 very well. Twelve sessions in January, fifteen in February and fourteen in March. You dropped off to an average of eight sessions a month till August but attended just once in September. What happened then?”
“I cannot remember. Oh, perhaps I was building up my street running towards the half Marathon in October”. Then my brain kicked into gear.
“Oh! How could I forget, we had a baby”.
“Aww. Boy or Girl?”
“Boy. Please don’t distract me. I am looking for my six pack, I need answers”.
“Didn’t you turn 50 last year?”
“I did”.
I shifted nervously in my chair wondering if he was about to tell me I was past my prime. Ageist nonsense! Up-start. Just because he uses steroids he feels he can insult me? (That is my ‘sour grapes’ escape mechanism. Everybody more muscular than me is either on steroids or much younger than me. ‘Wait till you get to my age’ is another good phrase.
“I only wanted to wish you a happy birthday,” he said.
He weighed me and measures the fat on my arms and belly and took notes. I did not like the way he grabbed my abdominal fat and made a silly face when it was his fault that it was there in the first place. If he did his job well my wife would have been cracking palm kernels on my abs. Unfortunately my abdomen doubles up as the baby’s bouncy castle.
“How are you carbs?”
“I eat bread and rice daily. Pounded yam nights are frequent also”.
“I understand you Africans cook with saturated oils”.
“Cook with? We empty the whole bottle of palm oil in the pot. We are Nigerians you know, we love our flavour”.
“Dr Wilson, would you consider cutting out the carbs and your oily soups?”
I laughed a bit then proceeded to search my brain for a parable.
“Have you heard about Fela?”
“Yes, I am a fan,” he said
“Then you would be familiar with this phrase, -No agreement today, no agreement tomorrow”.
We both laughed. The carbs and oil stay.
“Liposuction?”
“No!”
“Ok, talking about Fela, he had a diet similar to yours. How come he had a six pack throughout his life? Well I never met him but the shirtless pictures told a story”.
“I do not know,” I responded. I thought of the tours, the rehearsals, the imprisonment, the arson attack on Kalakuta and the police beatings; enough to keep ones weight down and muscular tone up.
“Perhaps I should take to playing the Saxophone. That could improve my lung function and make me run better,” I replied.
“Do you have the time?”
“No”.
“It looks like the money is on the diet mate”.
I reluctantly agreed.
Nutrition has got to change if I am ever going to see the six pack again. Till then I have my Ultrasound scan picture to look at.

3.02.2015

Babawilly

Wilson Orhiunu

Hindrances to exercise (Ladies edition)

Exercise is linked to everything a woman wants. A relaxed mind, strong bones, toned muscles and good old fashioned nice ‘body shape’.

There is also a lower rate of heart disease and diabetes among those who exercise regularly. Menopausal symptoms are also ameliorated with exercise while anxiety, mild depression and stress are relieved by exercise.  Since women are generally go getters, why have they not all embraced an active lifestyle? Some do and some don’t. Speaking to a few people who don’t, a pertain emerges.

Self- image

With advancing age, depending on the culture where a lady finds herself, she starts to live out a pre-ordained image. After the age of forty some women change their walking style especially if they have children. In Nigeria she loses her name and is called Mama – (insert name of first child). The loss of identity always seems to be followed by a loss of fitness.

Since women are expected to look after the children, who in turn grow up expecting to be looked after for life, a mother’s world becomes one long arduous task of being the care giver to children who never seem to grow up. Some women take up residency in the kitchen in their twenties and are still there in their sixties. When you see yourself as a cook and cleaner that works all day and is on call all night, it is hard to see yourself as an athletic mum.

Standing in the kitchen is hard but it is not exercise. You can grow fat doing very hard things.

Life nowadays is all about CHANGE. Change your self -image and your body soon follows.

Repeat this affirmation after me, ‘I am as fit as Serena Willams’.

He loves me the way I am

Na so! (Yeah right). Moving on…

What will people say?

Someone asked me this question, ‘What will people say if they see a fat woman trudging down the street with all her moving parts flapping in the wind?’

She was a big lady and had told herself that an obese person walking was a better sight to behold than a running obese person. Now who cares what the people think?

My sista, juss tek wrapper tie yuasef like body-magic abeg. (Wear a well fitted sports bra and you would be okay). People will always talk.

Women are more sensitive to comments about their bodies than men. Call a woman a poor woman and the offence taken is small. Call her fat and it is war. Men are the ones who struggle with cruel comments about their financial status. Call a man obese and he is not as bothered. He might even smile as he remembers the juicy food and drinks that created his big belly. I digress.

Stroke and heart attack is not my portion

Sorry but Aunty your portion of eba and oily soups are larger than the prayers and faith you are professing. Large ladies cut their cloth according to their size but forget to adjust their faith to their portion sizes.

Why drink sugary drinks all day and pray against diabetes?

Exercise is hard and requires effort, while eating fried foods come naturally to us all. Discipline is needed and there is no prayer for discipline. You exercise discipline.

Which one is bind and loose the fat in the food again?

By the way Elijah the Prophet; a man of faith,  ran for miles and overtook a chariot.

I don’t like being sweaty in public

Ah! Aunty I saw you at the wedding last week rolling your waist as you were being sprayed Dollars. You were sweating buckets. Excuses, excuses.

I am not a small girl

Ah! Aunty, why state the obvious? We can never confuse you for a small girl!

You are a big girl in every sense of the word. But things can Change. First of all cut your age  (at least in your mind).

Next thing is to join a gym.

Now some ladies belonging to some cultures or Faiths  and would not like to share a gym with men. That is ok. A group of women can also press for a ladies hour in their local gym. Better still why not build a ladies gym. There are so many women societies in Nigeria that troupe in to social functions in matching attires. Their societies should have a fitness and health faction within their organisations. Rolling waist at parties is not exercise unless you can roll for thirty minutes daily vigorously.

Where there are no fit and healthy ladies as public role models then the ladies emulate the fat ‘women of timber and calibre’ who eat large portions and lament the health problems without doing anything about it. Well, if you find no role model, then be the role model. Being fit is not the preserve of the ‘small girls’.

 I have better things to do

Ha! Aunty. Bottled groundnut, Gala and four part Nollywood movies are better than exercise? Ok o.

Why not get the gym manager to put Nollywood in front of your exercise bike and you can cycle while watching the people in the film open the gates (People are always opening gates in Naija films).

I will wait till the fat is plenty and do my Lipo-suction

Dollar is now expensive. It is cheaper to reduce the Eba from that Everest format to the new and improved Zuma Rock format. Daily walks and stretches will add to producing the new you.

It is the children

They are all in University, so you cannot blame the pregnancies for today’s bulging belly.

Being the madam that calls a house help on the phone to come and get you a glass of water is the height of laziness. The madam syndrome is making many to balloon up. They just sit in one spot and send drivers, laundry men and ‘special assistants’ on endless errands. Any surprise that the staff members are all slim and madam is bloated. Next thing madam says the special assistant is trying to snatch her husband. No, it is the husband who cannot lift madam that is trying to snatch the lighter special assistant. Daz all.

Hindrances to exercise - Male Edition

Hindrances to exercise (Male Edition)

Exercise has many proven benefits to the body and soul. The risks of dying from cardiovascular disease are diminished and many diseases are kept at bay by regular exercise. Obesity (yes it is a disease) and its complications such as Diabetes, Heart disease and joint pains can be eradicated with a structured exercise programme.

However, like all ‘universally accepted to be good’ things e.g. making money, dressing well or speaking well for that matter, it is always easier said than done.

During a trip to Nigeria, I noticed that friends, who are mainly over forty years of age, had all sprouted ‘pot bellies’ to go with their receding hair lines. The only fit men I seemed to see were the young students, the street vendors who ran after cars all day and the brick layers who displayed astounding muscular anatomy as they went about their duties bare chested. I was so impressed I considered doing two weeks of brick laying and labouring at a Lagos building site to help me re-acquire my six- pack that went missing twenty five years ago.

But (there is always a but) I could not bear to have calloused hands and feet seeing that people who shake my hands comment about how soft they feel.

All men have excuses on why they do not have the aerobic fitness of street vendors and the beautiful chests and abdomens of labourers. Let us dive in.

I am not a labourer!

Many men especially the educated ones work with their brains usually sitting in a chair and sipping tea with sugar all day long. This lifestyle in which the body does no activity makes excess fuel to be stored in the abdomen.

Everyone looks down on a labourer but the body was built for labour and not for sitting down. A sedentary life style will cause muscles to weaken and bone strength to diminish.

What is the purpose of working hard for money and committing nutritional suicide with the proceeds? Eat well, exercise hard and postpone that befitting burial! We may not all have the opportunity to lift bags of Dangote cement all day long but we can lift weights in the gym after office hours.

Do you know my age?

Well if you do not like the age you have cut it! Men generally, as they get older start to be called daddy by their wives (If they are Nigerian). Nothing slows your muscles down like being called daddy. To hide the bald patch and big stomach, the ever intelligent Nigerian culture has devised ‘fila’ (hat) and ‘agbada’ (voluminous robes) which are better than lipo suction in making a rotund man look fetching. Dressed like a daddy, you get fed like a daddy; five planets of pounded yam and twelve pieces of beef with a bottle of Guinness to wash it down.

Two groups of people have a way to a man’s heart. The cardiologists who go in via the femoral artery during angiograms (investigations of the coronary arteries) and the wives who serve fatty foods that travel through the stomach and ultimately get to the heart where they block the coronary arteries.

Daddy, madam is simply plotting a homicide via Ogbono rich in poly-saturated fatty acids and your only escape from a certain heart attack is to exercise like a farmer who does not own a tractor but just a hoe.

Men gather and start to talk about ‘we need to be careful at our age’. Run from such groups. Watch football matches, see young men running for the ball and affiliate yourself mentally with them. Fifty is the new twenty five

I do not have time

Uncle! Haba! No time for a thirty minute daily work-out? But that your small girl-friend on West street, you see her thrice weekly. (Should I really be writing this?). And then there are the Barcelona FC games and the English Premiership games that consume eight hours of your time weekly. May I remind you ‘Uncle’ that you watch these games drinking beer and pepper soup?

Ironically, you are getting unfit while watching young men get fitter and richer.

Please make the time to benefit your body.

I am too ill to exercise

What people usually mean is that they are too ill to do a particular type of exercise.

The one with knee pains may not be able to run but can swim or lift weights while seated.

No one is asking the dying to exercise for obvious reasons but exercise is actually more important to people who have chronic conditions like Hypertension, Diabetes or a previous stroke. Consult your Doctor before embarking of any exercise program if you have a medical condition

I live in a dangerous area and I cannot go running

That is true for some areas. Some streets have no places for pedestrians to walk on talk less of runners.

I suppose that was why skipping was invented. There are so many exercises that can be done at home and a quick YouTube search will provide you with something that is do able

I cannot share the gym with small boys

Uncle I have already told you to cut your age. You are a small boy!

Some older men are embarrassed to turn up in gyms due to that feeling of intimidation you get when you walk in with your tight T shirt and find out you are the oldest and least fit person in the gym.

Not knowing how to work the equipment can also be embarrassing. I suppose that is why you should have a gym induction. Also go to the gym when it is less busy which gives you time to learn to operate the equipment without every eye gazing at your big fat stomach and tiny legs.