I DID IT…excelling in a male dominated environment

10 years ago I decided that I wanted to be famous. I didn't know how I will become that person I saw in the mirror every morning but I was determined. Seven years later, I just wanted to be the best at what I did and I worked very hard and tried to always go the extra mile. Three years afterwards and all I think about is the impact my work is making on individuals, organisations and the nation.

I started with curiosity!

I wanted to know more about everything and I was competitive. I desperately needed to be the best but I found out as I grew older that it was impossible to always top every interest I had and so I decided to choose a few things I knew how to do very well and excel in them. I didn’t want to try what I wasn’t good at so I don’t flunk it or come out at average and this made my options limited. I was good with English, Literature and History and I focused on this subjects in secondary school more than I did for other subjects and I topped the class all the time.

Don’t be a jack of all trades,

your name will get lost in the long list of experts.

You will be seen as a side dish and not the main meal

Be the only option for that one thing that is needed.

During my teens, I discovered I could dance and act but singing wasn't my forte so I danced and acted and only sang in groups. I also noticed I had a flare for writing and I poured myself into that.

Overtime, I noticed my curiosity had pushed me into learning business principles and development and I read every book and article I could find on the subject. I attended meetings and tried to get opportunities to share my ideas and with time I became known to have opinions.

Let your voice be heard for what you know about

 and you will become the go-to person on that issue.

Don’t just think it, say it;

you won’t be paid for your private thoughts.

Fast forward 10 years and I have worked my mind into a constant state of curiosity which is needed for strategy, creative thinking and business development which are the 3 main areas of my current expertise.

A few weeks ago I heard Hon. Abike Dabiri Erewa say, “It’s not a man’s world, it’s our world” and I agree with her.

It is how you choose to play the game of chess that determines how you win

Do you want to win? Learn the tricks of your business

Men natural tend to be go-getters and hustlers. Women are more nurturers and receivers. But with our natural disposition as nurturers and inert intuition it is easy to build keen expertise in an area of interest. That’s all I did! I pushed my energies into my natural abilities, turned them into skills and was not afraid to be assertive.

It is important that what you say should count for something and your presence should be added value to everyone around you. This implies diligence and consistency in acquiring and retaining knowledge for whatever industry you find yourself and life in general.

Yes I failed a few times but I learnt my lessons and tried again. You may fail but know there is always a way to success, and the fastest route there is adding value and being a solution provider to a recognisable need.

Go the extra mile.

Do more than you think you can.

Push yourself to be the best in your own unique way.

It is quite common now to find intimidation a constant in business but those who try to intimidate are those who are threatened by your knowledge.

If you can learn right and act right then you can do right and you will be alright

from: "Young Voices" featured on Olatunji.com.

20 Minutes

I stood by my car waiting for a friend who was finishing up at a saloon and watched 4 little boys play with a ball they had made by stuffing pieces of cloth wrapped around little stones into an old deflated football.

I was intrigued by the raw intelligence the refurbished ball presented but wondered about how easy it was to kick against a ball that probably weighed almost half as much as the smallest of the boys.

They seemed happy and content in their little game and my friend was taking her precious time so I watched. I could have gone into the saloon but the last time I was there I had a little falling out with the hair dresser who made me look more like I was going for a ritual ceremony and not the wedding I had planned. So I swore never to set foot in that saloon again and waiting under the blistering sun was me proving my point.

The boys had stopped playing and were looking intently in anticipation as one of them ran towards a lady who had just alighted from a motorbike. He bent towards her bag of groceries and she snapped at him. I couldn’t hear what she said but I could feel her anxiety at having a 10 year old tattered looking boy touch her bag. I strained to hear their conversation but I was too far away so I tried to read their lips but all I see from the boy was “please. . . .” and after a pause the lady nodded and he carried the grocery bag and followed behind her into the gate of an estate right behind them.

A few minutes later, my “boys” and I were still craning our necks in anticipation for the boys’ return when he ran out of the estates gate in full speed waving a 50naira note. They all jumped around in circles and chatted excitedly, pointing in the direction of “Mallam Biscuits” stand.

I smiled as I remembered myself so many years ago excited at any currency given to me by uncles and aunties who came to visit.

I had entered my car and turned on the AC, the heat outside had become unbearable and I had decided to leave my friend behind, after all she was an adult and could find her way home easily. And well, I wasn’t paid to turn 2 shades darker for being her chauffer.

As I simmered, a lady walked by my car and caught my attention because she was wearing exactly the same top I had bought a few days ago and I smiled to myself and shrugged, “London shoppers in Lagos malls”. She was rummaging furiously through her bag like I did when I couldn’t find my keys and a 200naira note fell out right in front of my boy who carried the grocery bag.

He immediately picked it up and ran after her calling out and handed it to her as she turned around. She stared at his hand, then his face and smiled then she bent slightly, said something to him just as his friends got to where they were standing and turned away waving.

What?! Had she just given a 200naira note to my boy? Oh my! What a day this boy had had.

As if on cue, all 4 boys jumped and screamed and this time I could hear them distinctly as they ran towards “Mallam Biscuit”. I laughed despite myself and wished someone else would come and maybe throw a good life at them, changing their clothes, giving them a home and a possible future.

My heart felt heavy and my eyes teared up as I wondered if spending 5 more minutes playing a rugged football will bring more goodness to the already happy boys.

As they half-ran, half-walked chatting excitedly and eating the combos or biscuits, wafers, sweets and sharing a bottle of a drink that looked like Viju milk, I decided my waiting time was up and started my car.

As I pushed the gear into drive, from the corner of my eye I saw my friend running hysterically towards my car, waving both hands and bags. She looked angry and I could see why, the hairdresser had transformed her into a lion with locks. I smiled and she said, “I don’t want to hear it”

It had been an eventful 20minutes with a grand finish!

I drove away with a sense of fulfilment.

THE OTHER SIDE

Something in every human being likes to make a big deal out of little things. Somehow we manage to get infuriated at seemingly ignoble things. That’s the only reason for the statement; “patience is a virtue” if it wasn't so hard to get it wouldn't have its own cliche. It would have been a regular human characteristic like “anger”. Everyone gets angry for some reason or the other. While some of us, a small percentage, I must say, seek the virtue patience, a larger majority pride themselves in their ability to get angry and to sustain their anger for weeks on end.

I've heard people say things like; “don’t let me show you my true color” or “if I turn my other side” or “you wouldn't like to see the real me oh” or “let me not turn my red eye”. Seriously, we have psychos walking along the streets! This is a cause for alarm! Why would anyone proudly claim to be schizophrenic? All the aforementioned statements point to the fact that there may exist another man in the speaker. Or, that we most of the time deal with only one half of a person and the second half is waiting to be aroused to action by an offensive act.

Way To Go

The most recent irritation to road users is the number of tariffs they have to pay just to use the roads. It’s amazing how different groups waylay drivers and collect all kinds of amounts of money from them as payment for one thing or the other. The worst part is the mode of payment. We all know tax laws are slack in this country but that doesn’t give every union and corporative the excuse to become hoodlums and terrorists.

Take Abuja for example (I live here so I should know), road workers are made to pay for tickets everyday or they will be penalized with a higher sum than they owed. A few months ago, a taxi driver I know went to Mararaba, the first town in Nasarawa State coming from Abuja and was fined for not having a receipt that carries the Nasarawa State emblem even though he had one with the FCTs’. You have to note that the only demarcation between Mararaba and Abuja is a pillar and the same buses run through the two towns.

A DAY AT THE HOSPITAL

I've always admired doctors but hated hospitals because it remains me of helplessness and pain. I know on the other hand it’s a place of hope and the ideal place to get treated for diseases as opposed to the other options (you know what I mean).

I've had to spend time at a hospital in the last few months and it has intensified my distaste for the place, and I must repeat not the health workers! Fortunately it is a really good hospital I was visiting this time around. The floors are really clean and the restrooms surprisingly fresh smelling, you can imagine that my olfactometer was at full blast. The doctors are cordial and most of the nurses are bordering on sweet but a few have obviously missed their callings. For the first time in my experience (which is really nothing to be reckoned with) the AC’s are