Aiight so where was I? Oh yes, new car. In early September, braving Uzo’s scorn, I joined the Corolla Bandits, even going as far as to qualify the senior status reserved for those Bandits who roll around in black.

At about 10-11 on the day I picked up the car I started on my way home. At some point on third mainland I started hearing this beeping sound. Everytime I noticed it, it would go on for a while, before stopping. Once it stopped I would relax, and then about a minute or two later the sound would start again. This little sequence happened three times before I figured out what was happening. At 120 km/hr the beeper goes off, and since I tended to slow down when I was trying to figure out what was causing the noise I would drop down below the threshold speed and the beeper would fall silent. Then I would relax and speed up again and the beeper would go off again. Since this only happened three times, I only felt marginally stupid as opposed to really stupid.

I suppose I couldn’t really hate on the Arab countries for demanding that all cars that are manufactured for their region come with speed beepers, but I sure wish that I had been told before I bought the damn thing. Still 120 km/hr is livable for the most part.

Later that week I was heading to work at about 6:20 in the morning and I was merging into the service lane on Ikorodu Road. Since I left a little later than normal there was traffic on the road and so I slowed down and came to a stop. I guess the guy behind me either did not see my bright brake lights, or something because he didn’t brake in time and so he ran into me. Understandably I flew out of the car ready to smash his face in. I looked at the damage, and all that was there was a broken tiny plastic reflector that was barely noticeable; though I did to eye him very well when he had the audacity to tell me that there was no damage to my car. Still my normal self reasserted itself and I drove off.

So when I got to the island that day I decided to get to V/I through Awolowo Road as opposed to Osborne, just to add some variation to my life. It was not the best day for it because there was a lot more traffic on the road than usual and we were backed up further than usual. As many Lagosians do when there is traffic, a lot of drivers were going down the wrong side of the road. They don’t just go down the wrong side, they speed down the wrong side. There I was in my long queue watching the idiots drive past, when this 504 station wagon driving the wrong side of the road clips me. I was basically parked, the road in front of him was clear, and I was like WTF. I get out and luckily there was just a little bit of scratched paint. So I did not go after him screaming obscenities.

There were a couple more minor ones, in between but nothing really noteworthy; though the Escalde with the ridiculous turning radius was quite annoying. I mean a tank could have turned in that space, but this guy still managed to clip my mirror.

So let’s move on to the incident that took my car to the body shop. I was leaving V/I at like 10 pm on my way home from work. At that time, the police mount checkpoints at both exits from V/I. So there were two lanes at the checkpoint with the police on both sides allowing traffic to flow relatively freely. I got waved through by my police, and I was going on my merry way when this trailer decided to leave his lane and enter my checkpoint lane. There was really no point to this as he was next in line on his lane. As expected trailer meeting Corolla always ends worse for the Corolla. Luckily for the guy it was 10:30 when we finished screaming at each other. However since the policemen agreed that it was his fault, I could have impounded his vehicle and the driver taken away until the owner (who was too smart to show up) came to settle accounts. I didn’t and so I had to eat the repair to the rear light and a dent near the gas tank.

I am also proud to report that I resisted all suggestions of supernatural influences at work. After all it is just a car and if God wants to punish me, or if my enemies are indeed working they would have targetted something more material. Still knock on wood right ;)

My one year anniversary on blogger was 3 days ago and here is the link to my first post. Since I am indeed narcissistic I will be doing a top ten posts of the year written by me. So add that to the list of posts that I said I would do. Laters.

Rather than deciding to start talk about my travails with respect to my current car. I decided to make this a thing on Snazzy and his cars in Naij. Due to this generosity you will now get the car story in two parts.

Snazzy’s First Car Upon Return To Naij

So at the end of August but just before Carnival Monday, Snazzy returned to Nigeria after a five year period of not even a vacation visit. One week after that Snazzy fully immersed himself in the Nigerian experience by going straight to the NYSC camp. Snazzy returned to civilization (see how fast he acclimatized!) in the second week of October and was immediately gifted with a 1992 Nissan Altima. Snazzy did not mind the manual transmission or the non-operation of the driver side power window. The A/C worked, and Snazzy was content.

Snazzy did get a few askance looks when he rocked up to Bacchus et al, but for the most part it did not faze him (being repeatedly grilled by guards to his relatives houses did annoy him though). However he was mostly happy with the car and its performance. To be fair he did get freaked out when two weeks into ownership the battery of the car died. He also quickly replaced the battery and thought nothing of it.

However there was the whole incident of transmission issues that started in November. This was the unpleasant period where the car jerked annoyingly when shifting into first gear. Also at this time, Snazzy thought he was driving a new car and did not check the oil regularly. The oil then leaked out and the engine almost knocked on Snazzy. However N10K and an application of Mobil 1 later, Snazzy was back in business.

The next blow was the whole stopping on the bridge phase. The carburetor was bad and so the car kept jerking and stopping at high speeds after a while. I think the most fun one was the whole stopping on third mainland three times one evening. It stopped on eko bridge four times once, but that was a Sunday morning and so didn’t really count. So the erstwhile mechanic figured out that it was the carburetor that was the issue (after his third try) and fixed it.

However the carburetor malfunctions also affected the spark plugs which were damp, and so the car continued its whole stopping randomly action. This time it was cutting out at high and low speeds. The most memorable event occurred at ikoyi club, which was fun for the whole family. In between turning the air blue, and trying to prime the engine for long enough to get the car to medium speeds where I could get home (at the time I was still living on the mainland)

I admit that I was wary of the car before this, but after that journey from Ikoyi Club. I was like a kid on Elm Street and the Car was like Freddy. This car stopped like twenty times on the way back. Nobody around me was very impressed I can tell you. So after the spark plug incident is fixed I get the car back from the mechanic. However he should also have flushed the tank, but he didn’t, and so the car stopped again.

Now I’m like, no way in hell am I ever getting into this car again. It’s been past paranoia. Still after all my mouth I drive the car for about two weeks more. There is a brief one week interlude between when I got my car and when I left the death trap in which I drove a Kia station wagon but it doesn’t bear mention as nothing of note happened.

I’ll be back next with tales of my car. Laters

It's wierd, it's been ten days since i last graced this page with new thoughts. I think that is the longest I've gone without posting since the first two weeks I cracked the seal on this blog. It's not that I haven't had things to blog about, or time to blog, it's just that these two events never seemed to happen at the same time. I also seemed to have forgotten about the whole Young Snazz as crutch thing, for some reason I fell the need to be original these days of working, studying, and swimming. However this past week has involved a lot of the first, and nothing at all of the last two. I think I have decided that studying for the cfa is what other people do, which is almost certainly detrimental to the likelihood of me passing in december. Still I can't get worked up enough about that to stress myself. By now you've figured that this is one of those rambling posts that I do from time to time. However just like movies make you sit through the credits, for special tidbits, I've decided to reward those of you that managed to get through the waffling. What's the reward you ask? Well you get to have a glimpse of the upcoming posts that will be appearing on this blog in the near future.

The Tao of Snazzy's Car
The many travails of snazzy's six week old car from the first dent to the final trip to the mechanic.

Sometimes it Sucks to Be a Woman
A rant on the socialization pressures on nigerian women on things like Wife beatings, University lecturer "toasting," divorce law. all that good stuff.

Why You May Want To Be a Local Government Chairman
An ironic look at the ATM that is the Nigerian Local Government

The Documentary Hypothesis
Where Christianity and Rationality Collide. Probably a bad idea to write this, but curiousity was always my weak point.

Oh and the order they are listed here is not necessarily the order they will be written in. As always as a shameless crowd pleaser I can (and will) be influenced by requests for particular posts in the comments.

I have come to tell y’all about the real gender discrimination. Too long has one sex been tyrannized by the other. It’s time to make a change. It’s time to air our grievances, so the healing can begin. Yes I too was surprised, that such discrimination could exist in this day and age, but alas it is true. Discrimination, thy name is woman!

People always think that gender discrimination of that of the evil male patriarchy against the poor downtrodden female. However I’m here to tell you that this is not the case! We have been hoodwinked, we have been bamboozled, the wool has been pulled over our eyes, and now it’s time to see.

Imagine a young man, let’s call him Snazzy. Over the course of two months the young man met seven lovely ladies, whose numbers he proceeded to acquire. As I the narrator am an honest soul, I would happily admit that one or two of the numbers the boy got because he could, and never really planned to do anything with the numbers. However Snazzy happily took the remainder on dates – mostly drinks with one or two dinners thrown in – and generally showed them a nice time. However when Snazzy happened to mention to one of his female friends the number of women that were currently worthy of his attention – DISASTER STRUCK.

Snazzy stood confounded at the vilification of his person, the ill repute imputed to his character, and the firmness of the conclusion of the matter. Not knowing what to do, Snazzy proceeded to take his case to other members of the fairer sex, to determine whether he was in fact mad, or the rest of the world was. His attempts only yielded the same bitter fruit, with female after female looking down at him with withering scorn. Some even going as far to brand him with the dreaded word: PLAYA

It was a chastened Snazzy that divested himself of some of the ladies that were still enamored of making his acquaintance. He resolved to split his attention not amongst five, not amongst four, nor three, but two. This was no hardship for the young man, as the memory of the looks, and the comments were enough to force him to whittle down the number, even if he had not been so inclined (which he indeed was).

Then that fateful day came, the day when the wool was pulled from Snazzy’s eyes and he realized the great fraud that had been perpetrated against his person by those he thought were of the fairer sex. One woman made the unfortunate comment that she was on flames because she went out with a different guy every night in a one week period. Snazzy turned amazed, expecting the same withering scorn to descend upon her. Alas it was not to be, Snazzy heard congratulations and approval of the many options that said female had.

Upon further investigation amongst the same newly discovered to be hypocritical female friends, Snazzy discovered that a woman is allowed to liase with multiple persons in the decision making period. This freedom is given as it allows her the luxury of discovering her likes and dislikes. In some circles it is even necessary to have 3 Principals, 2 Reserves and 1 Back-up just to make sure a thorough search is undertaken.

The ever logical Snazzy, asked what the difference was between these girls and him, and was met with even more scorn. Every answer the young quester received could be reduced to “girls are different from boys, and that’s just the way things are.”

Snazzy resolved not to suffer this discrimination no more! Filled with righteous indignation he decided that his story must be told. That this evil discrimination that pervades our society cannot be allowed to stand anymore. We must unite as a gender, nay as a society, to put an end to the one-sidedness of choice. He communicated to me, and I tell his story here today. So as you go forth into the world of dating, I the narrator urge you to remember Snazzy and his experience. Do not let the real gender discrimination happen to you. Choice is for both the female AND the male. Spread your wings brothers... spread your wings.

P.S. I can’t remember when I had so much fun writing a piece :D

I think I should listen to the news on the way to work more often. I mean if it gives me this much material on a regualr basis, I might manage to blog/work/study and keep you my dear readers from missing me too much. Though I suppose that since that would mean it was mostly politics and economics I would lose half of y'all any way. I suppose the title will be self-explanatory once you read the actual tidbits.

The Katsina State Police Commissioner is Having a REALLY BAD Day

So yesterday the police command station in Katsina was raided by thieves. They came in through the ceiling and made away with the police officers payroll. I know I know, you are surprised that policemen get paid in Nigeria. Anyway the Commissioner has announced that he believes that the raid was an inside job. Clearly he has his investigator's hat on for that brilliant piece of deduction. However he was left befuddled by the other thing he had to announce. Apparently a teenage boy was tortured to death by a police sergeant for stealling a BOTTLE OF PALM OIL in a local market. The crowd that handed the boy over to the policeman were expecting a more (how do i say this) measured reaction, and so they proceeded to assault the policeman and carry out some vandalization action at the local station. Dear reader you will be pleased to know that the sergeant, unlike the inside men, are now in custody.

Tuface Could Be Having an Even Worse Day

So I also heard on the news that Tuface was shot and robbed last night on his way back from the Airport. The news guy just read that statement and no follow-up. I'm hoping that places it in the rumor category. I'm guessing Linda would have carriend it if it was true cos she is normally clued into stuff like this. Anyway if it is true the thieves should leave Tuface alone this is the second time they have jacked him. I mean let a brother breathe already. Anyway Tuface I hope the story isn't true, but if it is here is hoping for your speedy recovery. Don't let the haters hold you down.

The Football Wars Continue

So even if you live in Nigeria you might not have heard about the row between the Nigerian Football Association (NFA) and the Nigerian Football League (NFL). After all the European leagues have started and are clearly more important. Anyway the story in a nutshell was that the head of the NFL wanted some control over referee assignments and the NFA was like "no way." They went back and forth over this, issuing declarations and such. Then the NFL banned the head of the NFA and kicked him out of the NFL (apparently he as on the board). So about 44 owners off the clubs threatened to boycott the league. The reason this interested me is that the NFA guys (who are clearly hardcore) were like "Any club who tries to boycott will be in shit, and besides who are these club owners anyway most of the clubs are government owned." That guy clearly hasn't lost the art of the insult.

Standard Chartered Has Wholly Embraced It's Nigerian Self

Standard Chartered is a bank that feels with itself. If you are lucky to be a customer it charges you more interest for the loans you take, and pays you less interest for the deposits you leave. They basically care about quality of clientele, you wouldn't see them grubbing for deposits with the likes of Zenith and Intercon, they were quite content to source their clients from the discerning individuals that requested (and therefore merited) private banking services. This is why it was quite a surprise to hear Standard Chartered announcing a deposit driven strategy. Granted they were expecting N250K deposits as opposed to the N20K - N50K that the other banks try to lure, but still it's like Halle Berry coming up and asking you for a date (if you are a girl insert hot guy name). What's next Citibank will start sending hot girls to chase for deposits?

So anyone who bothers to read my financial / political posts on a semi-regular basis will pretty much have run into my disdain for the nigerian press in general. While that opinion is pretty much reinforced on a regular basis, every so often there is an article that stands out as a lantern in the wilderness. I read one of them today and I thought I'd share. It was written by Ogho Okiti of BusinessDay (whom I don't always agree with) and it was on point. It's called Ettehnomics.

You should probably follow the link but for those of you that may not, the text is reprinted below:

Since the beginning of the Etteh problems, I have deliberately refrained from commenting on it on this page, partly due to some urgent things I needed to get out and partly because I thought I should wait for the issue to run its course.

Following investigations into the contract scam involving the Speaker and her deputy by the Idoko led panel, the following conclusions were reached. It was concluded that due process was not followed in the award of the contracts. Other conclusions are that there were major acts of omission and disregard for laid down procedure; there were no basis for arriving at the approved contract sums; there was no budgetary provision for renovation, and furnishing of the residences; the memoranda for the award of the contracts presented were raised before some of the quotations for the jobs were processed; some of the companies that sent quotations were not registered with Corporate Affairs Commission (CAC); that some principal officers were excluded from the meeting that deliberated the contract; and that all quotations relating to the renovation and furnishing contracts were first acted upon by the speaker.

By due process and procedures, the panel explained that the award of the contract contravened laid down rules and procedures. Obviously, the laid down rules and procedures were there to prevent both perceived and real corruption, the same way the type of national economics we have followed failed to follow or imitate the process by which countries have developed. And when the report says there was no budgetary provision for the expenditure, it reminded us, how fiscal policy was carried out since independence. The government has said things will change, and we hope it does.

Etteh though, was quoted to have said there was nothing wrong in wanting something good for herself. Yes, I agree with that. By that, she meant people were begrudging her because she was doing well for herself. People were rather jealous of her. No, I am not jealous of you. I rather "sympathise" and "pity" you because you did not sense or gauge that the mood of the nation has changed, and whether due process was followed or not, it is preposterous to renovate any government official house for that colossal sum.

Everything about the contract stinks and potently reminds us why we are still crawling after 47 years of independence as a nation. We are still crawling because we have been practicing ETTEHnomics. ETTEHnomics is the economics of consumption and not production. It is the economics of suppliers and contractors; it is the economics of patronage; it is the type of economics government officials have ever known; it is the economics of what was 10 per cent, perhaps 100 per cent of late; it is the economics of mediocrity as practiced by mediocre government officials; it is the economics of anti people, it is the economics beyond our means; it is the economics of the consumption of oil revenue; and obviously, the economics of waste and corruption.

What is the root of the practice of this type of economics? Let me tell you a story of a man married with 36 children. The name of the man is Nigeria. He sits in a city called Abuja and presides over the affairs of his children spread over his massive arable land. The children are industrious and of very high intellect. Although there should have been some autonomy in their written agreement, but that is where the autonomy ends. The essence of autonomy is primarily fiscal, in practical terms, this is non existent. We will come to that shortly, but let me continue my story.

Among the 36 children, only 4 of them engage in some production of some significance. The produce of these 4 children are owned and managed by the father, and get derivation for their efforts. The reason for the ownership dates back to certain family disagreements and confusion years ago. As a result, they are not allowed to keep their money and all is remitted into the father’s account before it is shared out among the 36 children and over 700 grandchildren.
Before this arrangement, the few children the man had used to work really hard as there was a healthy competition amongst them, and because of that, the whole family prospered. Since the arrangement, all the other children had stopped working. From Oyo to Kaduna, Delta to Ekiti, and Anambra to Bauchi, and the cousins and nephews they all send to Abuja to represent their interest, everyone is scrambling for a share of the reward of production being carried out by these few children.

Please think for a minute, if someone is glad to provide you with a measure of significant amount, for producing nothing, will there be a motivation to do something? The reason we are where we are, is because, every state governor sit in their state awaiting monthly allocation. After collecting their monthly allocation, they also collect for their local governments. Now, consider a typical governor in the South, West and East and the North; most likely, never had the need or the initiative to visit the Niger Delta but everyday argues how much his state deserves from the federation pot. It is the same ETTEHnomics. How else would you describe the type of economics we practice if governors are unable to tell you the components of their state economies? How else would you describe the type of economics we practice, if governors are not able to tell the GDP of their states and how to grow such GDP? To get a semblance of what I am talking about, listen very soon to budget pronouncements from the states, and you will discover it is all about how to distributing the largesse from Abuja. That is ETTEHnomics.
Should you be reading my column for the first time and decide to take issues with me. Please do not take it personal. Those that have been following my analysis will testify that I write from the angle of national development, so where I come from is not an issue. To buttress my point, if you ask me to choose in terms of potential, Lagos or Delta, I will not hesitate to choose Lagos. The point I am making is that, by nature, human beings and by extension, states, are relaxed because there is some allocation coming from somewhere. Singapore is a country that imports water and has no natural resources at all. Japan is virtually in the same league and it is the second largest economy in the world.

It is a question of vision, and sometimes, visions are forced on us by circumstances. However, as things stand, the governments of the states of the federation are not expected to work. Until we begin to face some home truths, we will remain where we are. For instance, what was Oyo State doing with 34,000 workers until they were all sacked, and to demonstrate my point, the economy in Oyo has not felt the sack. Since Awolowo built the Sectariat, (please go and check) you will see that nothing has been added. Awolowo did not practice ETTEHnomics.
Finally, sometimes bad phenomenon can be very stubborn. The more you try to offload them, the more they try to stick with you. The Etteh scandal has stuck with us for a very long time. The benefit is that, it has run its course and the findings of the panel have been made public. What is good for Nigeria has become very bad for Patricia Etteh. If she had resigned many weeks back and give an excuse, say, ‘ for the sake of the country,’ she would have been applauded. Now, she has been disgraced, and she still has to go. Let us use that as a basis for starting the process that will put an end to ETTEHnomics.

Yesternight I was at my regular spot watching Arsenal continue its sincilating start to the season by beating random Hungarian team. I met this girl with one of my friends. She was talking about how she met her boyfriend, and she was like I was seated at a table and he gave his card to a waiter to bring over to me. I was like he has to be over 30.

Was I right you now wonder?

But of course I was.

So me being me, I started trying to think of other blocking tactics that allowed one to be easily identified.

Most of the ones I came up with are things people used to use but don't use again or are very obvious. For example,

"excuse me dance" was relatively popular in the early/mid nineties, though very seldom used seriously.

"how u doing" was for those who watched a little too much friends

"I play for [insert team]" was for athletes who were not recognizable but still thought that they should get arse based on the fact that they played on a team.

Since I'm clearly hopeless at this, I turn to you my dear readers. We need examples of blocking tactics that will vindicate my idea. So c'mon y'all I want those "as soon as he said this I knew he was a KC boy," or "only eighties kids would say that" examples. Remember this is not for me, this is for the theory. After all who wouldn't want a theory this random to be true?