Don’t Enter The Village!😲

I was shocked also when I saw that command. I thought of my father’s really beautiful house and the lush grass in front with several mango tress, and the backyard which boast of African Pear (Safou), Udara (African Star Apple) and Palm trees, not to mention the pineapples that are spread in the bush. I left out the Pawpaw trees and the native Apple (Rose Apple) tree amongst others; Daddy loves his farm and fruits!

I remembered the streams, the long path that leads to my maternal Uncle’s house, whom we call Captain. My 2nd daddy’s home, Uncle Richard and the rest of my family members that are in the village. The generational church (The Lutheran Church) we attended as children and still visit when we go for Carols and prayers. I looked at the statement again and I shuddered.

I have read Mark 8:23-26 in the King James Version (KJV) many times and my focus is always on the man and his failing sight; a sight so bad to the extent that even when the Sight-Giver touched him and he still didn’t see! My focus has also been on the need to see men for who they truly are, not metaphorically (I see men as trees, walking), but what and who they are, what they represent and who they represent.
Mind you, trees don’t walk, they can sway from side to side, be uprooted, but walking isn’t their thing. It has always been about clear vision that ends all deceit.

But this time when I read it in The Message (MSG), it hit me! That the man had already been healed, but his faith didn’t pull hard enough to see through the maze. In fact verse 25 (KJV) says “After that he put his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up: and he was restored, and saw every man clearly.” Jesus made him, encouraged him, redirected his focus from the mundane to the supreme (above) and when he obeyed, he saw clearly! MSG collaborates this by saying, “The man looked hard and realized that he had recovered perfect sight, saw everything in bright, twenty-twenty focus.” Otherwise, we would be saying that Jesus was unable to heal him and that’s not true. The next thing Jesus did shocked me… Jesus sent him straight home, telling him, “Don’t enter the village.”

What is a village?
What happens there?
Why was the man who had just been healed given that instruction?
I wondered…

A village is a small community or group of houses in a rural area. Jesus, the all-knowing Saviour of the world, knew the source of his trouble. He knew the man had a community he loved hanging out with, whose company he enjoyed, a group whose advice he took – hook, line and sinker without doubts, the familiar, the place he lets his guard down, the place his vision is downplayed on and he is robbed of his purpose to the point that he can no longer differentiate right from wrong, a zone he walks in greys – an astigmatic zone. Jesus says, “Don’t enter, don’t go there, go straight home!” Return to base, your vision, the place you have root, the place of certainty, where your heart is at peace. Stop the vacillation! Take a stand!

How many times have we been caught in this place of deceit where we keep thinking that a particular place or person holds the answer to the clarity of purpose we seek? I’m not sure if I have cleared your doubts, but one command I’ll leave you with is, whenever it has to do with your sight or purpose, go back to the Word, don’t enter the village!

What is your village?

@imanikel 11032022 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

I Manifest Adonai’s Nature
#UnapologeticallyMe

#MyLagos – *E Bi Like Sey…

I’m wondering if to go full pidgin English on you today or do a mix on this aspect of #MyLagos people. Well, a mix would be delicious, but the core will definitely come as it was said. I maintain, Lagos offers you countless stories daily, if you have seeing eyes and a listening ear, I’m sure where you are does the same too.

So one of those mornings, on my way to work. Our ‘seeming’ peace was rudely interrupted by some actions on the walk-way and of course accompanied by loud noise and spectators.
Note to readers: If the action doesn’t have spectators, then it’s not worthy of taking notice of it, spectators just keep moving.

Back to my story:
The spectators were finding it hard to contain him from causing bodily harm to his opponent (who is apparently, an annoying bus conductor, who after collecting full bus fare, decides to off-load his passengers half-way) and the next thing we heard from the conductor as he bent and picked up a weapon (a discarded piece of plastic) was, *“e bi like sey you wan wound…” and everyone in the vehicle went “ahhaa” signaling a case of “we have heard this before, all pump and no action”. Funnily enough, the one without the weapon (the passenger) was the one being detained because truth be told, the conductor was all hot air and if the spectators had let go of the passenger, someone would have had a bloodied nose and definitely not the passenger! 😂🙈

Daily, on our way round #MyLagos, we encounter the ‘E bi like sey’ WhatsApp group people, always spoiling for a fight and never having the strength to actually go for the jugular. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not campaigning that anyone be violent, I’m just saying wouldn’t it have been better, if we had a dialogue on whatever the issue was? It’s the same whether the person is learned or an illiterate, there’s this “I-can’t-be-seen-as-a-weakling-syndrome” going around and many have lost their lives or limbs engaging in this conquest, on the highway, I must add!
If it is not ‘E bi like sey’, it is ‘Do you know who I am?’ 😳 😋 for this particular set, I think the best response should be, “do kindly introduce yourself, I’d love to make your acquaintance” hilarious! 😂😅

Well, my charge to you today, is a call to have a rethink about our behaviour in public. Every time that lout or another ‘sane’ thinking person pushes your upset button, stop, count and calm down and ask yourself; Which WhatsApp group am I about to join?
How beneficial is what they are offering?
Will it do my rep or BP any good?
Which brand am I representing right now?
I think the answers to these and some other unasked questions, will put you in check. Or what do you think?

By the way, what is it with people (drivers), immediately you indicate that you want to make a turn or change lanes, they quickly close up the space that was in front of them caused by their playing with their phones on a highway – traffic jam or not! Mtschewwwwwwww 😤😡

Glossary:
*E bi like sey – it seems
*E bi like sey you wan wound – it seems you want to be injured

@imanikel 04022022 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

#MyLagos – The Comical Driver

One thing I’d miss when I stop my daily commute with commercial vehicles, will be the stories from drivers/passengers and their different perspectives to life. Everyone has an opinion and in my Lagos, the one with the loudest voice and knowledge (whether it’s true or false) gets an audience. But, the beautiful thing is, people are aware, so you’d want to be careful with the information you trade or you will be ridiculed even in my Lagos and amongst the agberos (area boys) sef.

I happened to be in this vehicle with a very comical driver. He said so many things that had me in stitches:
1) He picked a guy along the way, gave him a price for his destination and the guy beat down the price. The driver asked him if it was his first time in Lekki, because the price he was negotiating for didn’t sound like someone who had been to Lekki before. 🙈😳

2) My comical driver, received a call and from the tone of the conversation, he was supposed to remit money to the caller. The driver explained that he had lost his phone and had been praying that the caller would contact him. He promised to pay him at the end of the month (this was 26th January o). The caller was confused and asked him, “this month or next month?” The driver replied, “when is month-end?” The passengers erupted with laughter, as the conversation was not a silent one (though peaceful). It then occurred to the driver that the month had ended already.

3) I happened to sit in front with a young-lady between us. Apparently, the driver had been teasing her throughout the journey, he even bought water for her and they were in a conversation of some sort. I noticed someone kept interrupting their conversation with his call and she would say “I’m almost there”. During one of the calls, she told the guy who had been waiting, that she was near to his location. But this was about 5 bus-stops away 😮(she was at Igbuefon, but told him she was almost near Mega Chicken).
At this the driver stopped teasing her and said to her, “God said I should tell you, if you change your ways, He will bless you this year!”
She scoffed at him and his declaration, but he continued, “If I was a General Overseer or Pastor, you would believe me and shout ‘amen!’ don’t ignore me because I’m a Danfo driver”.
Her ‘man’ called again (by this time we were at Chevron and the traffic was not smiling) and she said she could almost see Mega Chicken 😮. At this point, the driver shook his head, and informed her that it would take another hour + to get there. I was bemused at such bold lies and suggested she better get down and fly a bike rather than tell lies. She got off and that ended her chapter.

4) Still in traffic, as we drove past the Chevron tollgate, into a sea of slowly-driven cars, one of the lady passengers enquired about his conductor and the driver asked if she wanted to leave a message for him, she responded that he was owing her a balance for her fare.
Uncle driver, told her that she could alight from the bus, that he will pass on the message to the conductor, when he picked him up down the road. after a while, Uncle driver asked her where her destination was and it was the last stop, to which he responded, “so why are you disturbing us?”

5) Further down the road, he picked someone he had been looking for and couldn’t reach. Another tale of missing phones and contact came from the fellow. Also, he recounted the drama that led to his abandoning his place of work. He mentioned how his employer accused him of stealing a client’s phone, only for the phone to be found in his employer’s brother’s bag; and the matter was killed without any drama.
According to him, that his name had been tarnished and until his former employer corrected this misdeed to his name, he wouldn’t have anything to do with him. The driver asked him if he wanted his employer to write his name in crayon.

This is just an evening on my way home. How has your day been in #MyLagos or your city? Do share.

@imanikel 280122 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

#MyLagos – A pot-pourri of their lifestyle.

Early one morning on my way to work, we passed by a healthy black goat (she looked pregnant, that’s how I knew it was a ‘she’ 😌), who fled from our path as a car approached and I mused to myself, that even the goat was wise and loved her life better than whatever it is she was attempting to pick up from the road.

So, how come, when you are walking or speeding down the road, grown-up men stand casually and intentionally in your path, expecting you, the car, bike or *Keke to manoeuvre around them rather than them stepping off harm’s path. You get to hear things like, nah “Omo ni le” meaning “the child of the landowner”. The last time I checked a vehicle with failed brakes or one driven by a drunk doesn’t recognise titles or anything in it’s path that won’t step aside.

#MyLagos people not only stand in the way to assert ownership, the *louts, do worse. For that driver trying to make ends meet, who probably ran away from school because he didn’t understand the signs and symbols or whose parents couldn’t afford to pay his basic fees, he found himself a new ‘teacher’ complete with marker on the road, to score the number of times he has settled his logistics bill. It’s amazing how they (the taskmasters) recall if you had paid the morning, afternoon or evening’s charge or you had a balance to complete.

The really funny one is that every day the marker or sign for the day is different.
Did it end there? For where?!
After the driver has survived the ‘usual’ suspects, the next day he meets a new group who are collecting money for their own branch and guess who suffers this “teacher’s” fees? The passengers, of course!

You asked what they do with the money? If only I knew, but it has been said that the owners wait patiently to receive as donated.
Suffice to say that the teachers are global, by this I mean, they come from neighbouring towns and states. I know we have a lot of Ibadan and Abeokuta “teachers”. I’m wondering if they don’t have vehicles in their vicinity to obtain. It is surprising what the “teacher” uses his own ‘salary’ to do at the beginning and end of the day – drink sachet gin, eat small rice or beans with plenty huge pomo (cow-hide) and beef and more sachet gin and water in between.

Permit me at this point to say that if you are loud enough and have the coarsest of voice! You will make a good teacher and your marker makes you ready for work. Did I mention the flip-side of not submitting your windscreen for the marks and your money for the course manual? You either lose your fuel tank cover, the rubber that protects your window or door, your wiper (if you have one) or your side mirror if it is convertible. Talk about convertible side-mirrors 😂 others lose their Keke foot mat.

For what it is worth, Lagos has a mix that I love sometimes. How about you?

Glossary
*Tricycle or Auto rickshaw
*Lout – an uncouth and aggressive man or boy.

@imanikel 121121 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

#MyLagos: Action People 😳

My buddy, Dee seems to think I should continue writing about My Lagos till I end the series. But can you ever really run out of drama in Lagos?! The City thrives on the noise and the excess drama and when I say “excess”, I mean excess. Their parties are loud, music loud 🙉, meat inside the food loud…sorry BIG😂, the bikes don’t have side mirrors but some definitely have boomboxes blasting away, their greeting, loud…across your afro or wig! 😅 Their fight? Legendary! Hmmm

Speaking of which, on my way to work yesterday as I attempted crossing over to the other side of the road to catch a vehicle, I heard someone walking really fast behind, as if to catch up with me and sounded very angry as he was talking. I quickly turned, so I’ll know if to step out of the way or something. Thank God I did – phew 😅 because from the corner of my eyes, I say his hands fling past my hairline literally, as he described whatever to the other listening party in the phone! So, here am I feeling like a bulldozer was behind, meanwhile someone was just having a descriptive conversation with another and his hands spoke more than his speech.

Another thing about My Lagos is their ‘Eye-witness’ nature. To get home from my estate gate, you either drive, walk down or take a bike. I was on a bike in and I saw someone running away. He had good reasons to, because the next fellow was shirtless, but clothed himself with “you go hear am today” and had a big stick in his hand, chasing after him. Of course, the street and the house they came out of, had enough spectators to form a *wakapass crowd for a movie. Who knows, maybe they were playing a movie role. But I didn’t allow my bikeman to wait and watch, which would have been natural for him because the fear I noticed in the first man’s strides and face were real. It is better to be safe than sorry.

“Na which person *gra-gra loud pass, nah him dey win argument”. That’s what they are trying to turn me into, but God pass dem. Last night, I had to walk a distance towards the bridge before getting to another bus-stop. An unknown ‘pally’ who doesn’t live in my side of Lagos walked with me, as I tried helping him with directions to where he was headed last night. From the corners, some boys came out and tried surrounding him to get money ‘for the boys’ and he told them he didn’t have any.
So this is the new pattern now, not only do they harass bikemen and buses, they harass pedestrians too – mostly guys. So, I continued our conversation and told him to keep moving (stopping is an error he would have regretted). The first lad left apparently because he saw me and the genuineness my unknown pally spoke.

Were we in the clear? For where?! A taller bully showed up and demanded for money, I told him there was none and he said to me, “you dey like person wey dey give person money?” I told him if the first person who had asked initially came back, I’d give him money. But no money for this bully. He was upset and talked about how I would cry if my bag was snatched, I offered him the bag, but he kept saying “you get money?” All the while looking around. I wonder if he was checking to know the source of my boldness or an escape route should he snatch his grand-mother’s bag 😉

Glossary:
*wakapass – extras
*gra-gra – uncoordinated opinion

@imanikel 051121 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

Hung on the Word

Love is the strings I hear that held You bound to the Cross
Falling down a cliff, but like Mary, I hung on Your every Word
Lost, seeking to find my path through life
I dive in, struggling through the battles I strive.
Do I have the strength to carry me through?
Or the nerve to testify that You’re good?
Falling, I held on

Blood is the flood that washed me from every stains of death
Blinded with tears, I used grace to wipe my eyes of earth
Discovery! The blood didn’t stain, it made free of pain
How do I explain the great worth of death and its gain?
Does this sound wise or it’s just in my own eyes?
That grace bought what was redeemed from the many lies
Falling to my knees, I stayed

Hung up on the cross and down to the grave
Purpose You made, was to make me no slave
Freed! The Word is indeed real and complete
Let me be! In Him, I’m beyond defeat
Spoken, full of light and power to deliver
A token, on which to trust as I believe
“Fallen”, the Word was my stay.

@imanikel 080421 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

Into Me See aka #Intimacy

For some reason, all the songs I’ve listened to today, is a call to be intimate and be satisfied – knowing Who you seek and desire. Lately, Oba has been on my matter, on another level I must say, and before your mind starts racing round the globe, he’s not with me right now, but within the Community…LOL. 😌 He’s working on our communication (non-verbal), gist (verbal) and we laugh about the silliest of things. It’s like being rediscovered newly. 🙈

I reckon, there’s an outcry for depth in relationships (whatever type of relationship you are involved in) and really see everything about the person (warts and all) and staying there regardless of the sides you discover. Speaking of sides, the other day, my sister (from another mother) posted something about having three sides and I told her (and the other of my sister) that I know four or more of their sides and we are still laughing about the matter, because there’s so much to discover if only we look deeper.

I’m taking a new path down the intimacy lane and it involves Communication, Observation and Intentionality to Discover or Rediscover what is underneath the one(s) you are crazy about! It’s been deliberate and sometimes annoying, like “didn’t I just talk with you?!” 😳and he goes, “Did you see me?!” meaning let’s do a video-call. To which I respond, “my battery is low”, of course he didn’t hear that part because by the next second, my phone is ringing, and guess what, I’m in the dark, because PHCN has done their rationing thingy and I can’t find someone to help with the generator. But Oba is satisfied seeing my silhouette even with the slowly dying-out torch I have in the living room, whilst waiting for power to return or the gen-helper to show up.

Intimacy is a call to drop your guard, let go of the mask and just BE! That’s risky you say and I have to agree with you. What’s life without risk and spice? What’s life that is regimented to a T! I don’t mind the mix at all, the colours make the world a better place, so why should anyone seek to remain on the surface?

A call to discover has gone out, and it is seeking takers to come into depth with the Father in the place of worship. Calling on others to go beyond the seen and love like never before. It is a call for MORE.

Into me see the things I’d rather hide
Discover stuff that take away pride
Peel away layers upon layers
And bring to fore my deep desires
Into me see the tears behind my eyes
And the pain that pierces my sides
Search through piles and piles
Of truths I keep away in unmarked files
Into me see the me that is bare
Bold and sometimes without a care
Pulling away brick after brick
Till I’m like one without a grip
Into me see I’m done with the tales
Cos in You, falsehood pales…
When glory unveils the veiled
This intimacy has me revealed

You know your varying areas of need, get intimate with it, discover the other angles to your life, family, business, ministry and whatever makes your heart glad. I’ll be here smiling as I anticipate the next move in my #Intimacy journey.

@imanikel 290321 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

The Gift called Silence

Rushing to my lips were a variety of ‘amazing’ responses,
Suited for the cacophony of ‘shades’ shot at my defenses.
Begging to be released, so they wash the other
As if by this singular act, restore order.
Yet, the barricade upon my lips held it grounds,
Causing my insides to bear these painful rounds.
Taking pride and finding love in sweet words;
These, sliced deep and hurt like battle-field swords.
Silence ruled and reigned in my world of many voices,
As different options in my mind held its vices.

Toying with the script I plan to play, with no one for audience,
I created scenes and crops for that day of rewarding offence.
Silently, I weighed, analyzed and found guilty each word
Silently, the Word taunted me to give up my right to God
Silently, with pain gnawing at my core
I pushed past each unmemorable bore
Suggestions of peace came a knocking
Revenge said, “you gat to be joking!”
I had my chances to let it all out and think later
I said no, because a peace trophy is always better.

Silence is a precious gift…
I’m glad I used for this rift.

@imanikel 100221 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

When Safe Ain’t Okay

‘Safe’ would be remaining stuck in the known, even if movement is slow
It would be chasing the wind with nothing to glean
Safe is the familiar, the one to which you say hallelujah!
Bringing comfort with false claims of support
It is the reason your height is no flight

Keeping you stunted, like the cut of the blunted.
If unveiling mysteries and discovering other scenes is what you seek.
I beg of you, send ‘safe’ far away from your keep!
Step out and leap free, spread those arms in thrills.
There’s a whole lot out there, and safe is a cost that’s dear!

Picture Source: www.practical-agile.com

@imanikel 091019 Frances Kelvin Otung

#WQWWC – Passion

PASSION…

The sounds roll off my lips and melts in my mouth like heated butter on a hot toast. The pictures my mind conjures, tells every deaf that this one knows how to make me tick. As easily as I inhale and exhale without thought. As seamlessly as a blend of heated oil and oil and a splash of water in the mix for sizzle and sparks. As stormy, as an angry weather on a night when the lace won’t prevent the chill. Fast, like ice rolling down the hill, clinging to more ice, becoming an avalanche! Soothing, like water to a parched throat, whilst the sun tries out her new burners with glee! Free, like breeze chasing after another unseen, regardless of bent-back trees and broken branches. Strong as a rock, convinced, settled with a smug on its face because he knows me too well. Attracted to the impossible, like unlike poles refusing similar, normal traits. Red, burning like fire…dangerous, yet useful in every way if guided.

This and more is what the passion I feel for my King and writing does. How about you?

©2016. Frances Kelvin Otung. All rights reserved

Picture Source: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/discover-your-passion-engr-pascal-okeke-mba-mnse-
http://www.yamadatechnologies.com/blog/2015/1/10/passion
http://plavni.com/passion-perfection/passion-perfection-2-passion-word-art/
https://www.pinterest.com/