Amos Ajewole

Yesterday:

One Father: I don’t know why you guys are complaining over house chores.

H1: There are too many things you throw at us and we don’t have time for our personal stuffs.

One Father: Personal stuffs? 2 washing machines, dishwasher, dryer and all forms of gadgets around you and you are still moaning. May be we should get you additional sibling to reduce the burden on you.

H2: Whaaat? Don’t try it dad. Another what?

One Father: Didn’t know you are this angry. Don’t try it? What if it has already happened?

H1: Daddy….please, I beg you in the name of the father, mother, son, spirit, sister, angels, heaven and everything, don’t tell me mummy is pregnant. This is one of your pranks yeah? Or are you using style to give us a breaking news?

H2: Hephzy, let’s just pack our stuffs and go back to London to stay with grandma. Another baby? With all these never-ending errands?

One Father: I thought you guys love babies….

H2: Daddy, stop it….those are other people’s babies. They are cute and cuddly. We only spend few hours with them…especially when they are girls.

H1: Yes. Haddy is right. The church babies are innocent and all we have to do is play with them…not running errands to to maintain them.

One Father: So you are satisfied with other people’s babies, especially girls…what is wrong with boys? Boys are stronger. What if I want a boy to balance you guys?

H2: Daddy….with all respect to an African father…stop dreaming. Don’t stress us with this idea. Are you and your son not enough? You want your bring another Hadriel like you to this house? Count me out.

One Father: Whaaaaaaaaaaaat? What is wrong with another Hadriel or a boy like me? What is wrong with us? Isn’t that sexism?

H1: No daddy, we are appealing to a loving father, don’t think about it again. We can’t be living on the edge everyday managing you and your son, and you still want to bring another unpredictable copy of you.

One Father: Oh my days. Did you previously have this conversation with your mum?

H1: We didn’t, and we don’t have to. We are just very intuitive of what trauma you boys cause us if you are too many.

H2: I don’t even know what to say. I have to watch my steps around you and Hadriel every time not knowing if it’s a pillow throw or a punch blow that will come from your mouths. Boys are so difficult to handle. They never listen to instructions. Just too stubborn.

One Father: No, what if you girls? Girls are the same too. That’s the way we boys see you.

H1: No daddy, we are ok. All we do is argue, snub, argue and argue, and then snub each other again. Haddy never listens to me.

H2: That’s not true. You are too overbearing, you are opinionated, you just want a robot to accept everything you say and I am not one.

H1: You see daddy. She never shows me any respect…

H2: You have to earn the respect. It is not fre….

H1: Let me finish Hadddddddyyyy…..you see dad, that’s exactly what I ma saying. This is where Hadriel is better. He will let you talk but he will just ignore you. Haddy doesn’t let me finish. You see she is still talking to drown me out.

H2: (Also talking over the sister) That’s not true. How can Hadriel be better than me when he will just ignore you? You are too bossy and bear-headed. You too won’t allow my opinion which also counts.

H1: It won’t count.

H2: It will count. Daddy….you are not saying anything? Isn’t she aggressively obsessive with owning every narrative?

H1: I am not. You are the aggressor here. I am older than you and you must respect my opinion which is 1 year and 8 months older than you.

H2: I cannot believe this. Your opinion levelled with the decade you were born into. It is archaic. It’s in the archive. I won’t accept it. Daddy….please say something.

H1: Yeah daddy, tell her she is rightly, totally and hundred percent wrong.

H2: Oh silllyyyy…how can one be rightly wrong? If you are wrong, you are wrong. You don’t sanctify it with any adverb or adjective.

H1: There is no adjective there. I didn’t say beautifully wrong. Beautiful could be…..

H2: Shuush….you are no Alexander Hamilton. I know that’s what you want to say next.

H1: How can you shuush me? If we are in Africa, I would be punishing you right now. I didn’t intend mentioning Alexander Hamil…..

H2: Then Alexander Pope…that’s a…

H1: Shut Uuuuup you naughty swallow face!

H2: No I won’t swallow maker! Poundo swallow or Ebarr swallow?

One Father: (screaming) Quiet everyone.

H1: Finally….

One Father: I said quiet.

H2: She called me swallow face.

One Father: I will Swallow Fufu your face right now if you don’t stop it. This is why Hadriel will never take you serious, and would rather ignore you than engage with you.

H2: Seriously? We were only having a decent conversation daddy. I just wished Hephzy would take my opinions on board and we would be fine.

H1: Your opinions always got me in trouble with daddy’s razor tongue. I won’t allow that to happen to me again.

H2: Daddy, your precious daughter just called your tongue a sword.

H1: No I didn’t. I said blade. Swall….

One Father: Stop it. I am done with your jabs. I have headache already. Moreover, my recorder is full of your countless jabs.

H1: Do you still record us? You are not tired of this since we were little? Boys always doing the same thing over and over. That’s not what will change us.

One Father: Now you see why we boys won’t want more of girls too. With us boys…one or two words, and we are done. We move on. You girls…you jump from Hamilton to Pope to Poundo and back to grammar wishing few seconds. No one can tell the head or tail of your conversation!

H1: It’s Haddy…

One Father: You see…already blamin….

H2: In fact, bring another baby girl today, and she will blame her tomorrow. Am I…

H1: Just shut up….

One Father: Hephzy, go an bring all the dirty clothes from the laundry baskets across the rooms in the house. Haddy, go and…

H2: Yeah I know…..

One Father: You didn’t have to cut me. You should start with the recyclables and wastes before you do the dishes.

H2: You want me to do the bins? Both of us used t….

H1: The boss is talking.

H2: I miss mum. If she is not working far from home now, it will be different.

One Father: How?

H2: Both of us put the rubbish away.

One Father: Are you ready to massage my feet instead?

H2: Oh no. I will do the rubbish instead.

H1: So I will massage your feet? Now I miss mummy too. Why can’t Hadriel do it for you?

One Father: You want him to remove my hairs and also skin me? Thanks.

H1: Of course, that’s the only thing he knows how to do well apart from holding remote controls.

H3: Daddy….I hungry. I want pizza.

H2: I think I will agree with him on that.

H1: Yeah, I think after our little converathon, pizza is a good way to finish it.

One Father: Then, call your mummy to help us make the order. She should have been back to her base from work by now.

H1: So we all still ended up asking a girl to fix the dinner!

One Father: Shut up.

TA LO NJE AIYE NIWAJU AIYERAYE?
TA LO NI AGBARA NIWAJU ALAGBARA?
TA LO NJE OLORUN NIWAJU OLORUN AWON OLORUN?

8 out of the 12 hours of daylight spent consuming academic research on ancient biblical history and archaeology on academia.edu. The real facebook is academia.edu not facebook itself. I need someone that can pay me to read!

Adonijah wanted to become king after David. He made noise and got 50 charioteers to run in front of him. He held banquets and threw parties all over the place. The one who became king rode on the king’s mule. It is not by noise!

Tomorrow. 10am.

A lady came to me to narrate her ordeal. After listening to her carefully, I asked her what she had planned to do without pastoral input.

She told me her plan and I screamed. She just japa’d recently, and her plan was a dangerous Naija-esque desperate plan.

I told her to STAP IT.

Now, the mistake most Naija or Kemet people just getting here make is that they think the policing or investigating system here is same as the one back home.

If a police here is asking you a question, please, always assume at the back of your mind that they probably got like up to 70% evidences stacked up against you already.

When you are to be investigated, they don’t arrest you and then start investigating you. No. They already investigated you, and what they are doing is to question you so that you ‘rope’ yourself in fast to save them unnecessary delay by lawyers you may eventually hire.

They will make sure that your responses are taken down against every evidence they already gathered on you.

I told the lady what to do. ‘Don’t do it the Alausa-Bourdillion Balablu way, do it the UK way. Explain why you did what you did. You were scared…instinct took over, and you had no idea why you fled the scene.’

I then gave her prayer points to go and pray on. She needed God’s mercy over the response of the police and the action that would be taken over her response.

Did it work? After 2 months, she came to testify. Out of the blues, she was let off and advised on what to do in such a scenario comes up again. She was so happy telling me.

I lived in one funny house like that in my student-ship days.

We just woke up one morning and our house door was forced open by the fully-kitted Immigration officers. At least I counted 10-12 that went round the house. There were about 8-10 outside and at the back garden. The whole house was under siege.

As the door flung open, I heard what I thought was my name. So I answered to it I was marched down to the living room. They asked me to identify myself again. When I told them, they said they said it was ‘Thomas’ they wanted and not ‘Amos’. I confessed I was still deep asleep so I heard them wrong.

It was too late. They poured more officers into my room tearing everything apart. They were looking for a connection between me and a ‘Thomas’ that they had been investigating for 18 - 24 months for Visa and passports racketeering.

They spent over 18 months tracking, following, monitoring and gathering information and evidences of posts, deliveries, Royal Mail couriers they stopped on the road, addresses and everything.

The investigation took them to addresses in London, Birmingham, Manchester, Luton, Milyon Keynes and several others. They mentioned 10 cities overall, and ‘Nat’ as he called himself that day confirmed all the addresses in those cities were being raided on the same day and at the same time.

Nat also studied a Chemistry related course. As he was asking me questions, somebody was feeding him with answers validating my own responses. How did he know that I was first denied visa before it was appealed? How did he know that what I studied for MSc was opposite of my first degree background?

He asked me why I have not travelled home like most of my colleagues would. I was just looking at him as one of those gragra Goliaths I have confronted in the past. They scrutinised my income, NI, holiday pay and the hours I had worked.

At the back of my mind, I was like ‘you guys came for Thomas, why must you redeem your huge miss with my Amos?’

Thomas moved out of the property 3 weeks before I moved in. The other lady that was involved in the nonsense just woke up Friday morning and told me that she had to leave for Nigeria immediately. And she started looking for flight ticket for that evening. She packed all her stuff and left by 2-3pm that Friday for Heathrow.

4am Saturday morning, the immigration people came in raiding the house. That lady was the second target. Another lady sharing that room with the one that suddenly departed for Nigeria was the one taken by the immigration.

She was the one that cooperated for lesser sentence and helped nail the big players she knew. She was a smaller fish, so they were ready to let her off with a slap-sentence for bigger fish.

The lady that had arrived in Nigeria suddenly called me around lunch time on Saturday to ask me if anything happened. I was shocked. I told her what happened. She was not surprised. The juju that the Alfa neighbour of her parents did for her worked like ‘ajebidan’.

She knew a danger was coming that she can never be freed from if caught. So she paid top naira to get out of the country. Her room mate paid the price. Spent sometime in the prison. I am still pained till date that I didn’t get to visit her while she was there.

What am I trying to say? The outcome of that day’s multi-cities raid was a huge success. They were able to jail several top players and movers in that operation network. I am not sure if Thomas was eventually caught, but I know that the lady that escaped was back in the country within few weeks under a different identity. It was long before the days of biometric data capture.

Before most oyinbo investigators will publish their reports, or have their officers come after you, trust me, they have investigated you for the best past of the previous 24 months. It is now up to you through your responses to determine if your prosecution will be a quick one or a long one. They love to save money, so they will make sure they have enough to nail you before coming to you.

To the Japarians, don’t try to cut corners where they already got you nailed. If you are innocent…the mercies of God will help justify you.

Pix Credit: The only politician that has been investigated, searched, scrutinised and stripped, and yet, found NOTHING incriminating on him. Argue that on your own wall.

When you have a cleric or a man who has an office, a room, a closet, a door, a table, a ground, a place or something that only him can access, use or touch, I am afraid, you are dealing with someone with connection to a very dark world.

The owner of the church will visit his property, and he will purge it. Refiners fire will go ablaze across our altars one more time.

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM THE HOUSEHOLD OF ONE FATHER AND ONE MOTHER TO ALL:

One Father: What are you watching again?

One Cub: Our Planet.

One Father: You and these your dinosaurs. What type or kind of dinosaur is this one again?

One Cub: (Looked at One Father with a side-eye) It is Velociraptor dad.

One Father: What is Velociraptor again?

One Cub: (Looked at One Father
derisively, turned towards a Tech Device) Alexa, tell daddy what a velociraptor is.

Daddy Shocked.

One Alexa: A velociraptor is a genus of small, predatory dinosaurs that lived during the Late Cretaceous period, around 75 to 71 million years ago. They were bipedal dinosaurs known for…..

One Father: (One Father screaming at Alexa) Alexa, shut up. I am having a conversation with my son here.

One Alexa: Sorry daddy if you are not happy with my initial answer, Velociraptors belonged to the group of theropod dinosaurs…

One Father: Alexa, I said shut up. Stop it. Sssssh. Disregard last question. (Turned to One Cub) Hadriel, it is too early in 2024 to be referring me to Alexa. I asked you a question and you sent me to the school of Alexa. When next you come to me asking for food, I will send you to Alexa. I can promise you that.

One Cub: Sorry dad, you don’t know velociraptor and I am too tired to talk.

One Father: Hmmm…too tired to talk. Ok oh. Happy New Year.

Happy 39th anniversary.

Happy Incredible 39 Anniversary years of love, my Hero, my provider, my King❤️❤️❤️❤️ after I said yes to this Champion my whole life changed into my hopes and dreams coming true. Thank you Husband for all you do to give me joy, love and peace in my life❤️❤️❤️

Testosterone levels 'plummeting' in young men for NSFW reason FROM London to Los Angeles, an increasing number of young men are retreating from society, isolating themselves for extended periods. When asked about their feelings of loneliness, men are more lik…

From today, William and the King will never travel together in the same convoy. Respectable distance will also be maintained. All children of Duke William will now be officially ranked higher than Harry and his lineage. William will later become prince of Wales. The past is done with, the present and the future is well sorted.

We inherited speaking in tongue from the Bible - Baba Alagbado Emilokan.

https://youtu.be/T4AWN51rMpU

Lyrics and translation

Zihlanjwe zonk' izono zam
(All my sins have been washed away)

Lisuswe lonk' ityala lam
(All my guilt has been removed)

Mayibongwe yon' imvan' eyalenga
(Praise the lamb that was slain)

Yesu Yena wehl' emhlaben
(Jesus came down to earth)
Washiy' ishlalo sobukhosi
(Leaving His throne as King)
Mayibongwe yon' imvan' eyalenga
(Praise the lamb that was slain)
Igazi lakhe lawela k*m
(His blood fell upon me)
Lavus' ukphila kwaphakade
(And raised in me everlasting life)
Mayibongwe yon' imvan' eyalenga
(Praise the lamb that was slain)

Yesu Yena wehl' emhlaben
(Jesus came down to earth)

Wathwal' isthsaba samahlazo am
(Crowned with the thorns of my shame on his head)
Mayibongw' eyon' imvan' eyalenga
(Praise the lamb that was slain)

Igazi lakhe lawela k*m
(His blood fell upon me)
Lashiy' uphawu lwamazulu
(And it left The Mark of heaven)
Mayibongw' eyon' imvan' eyalenga
(Praise the lamb that was slain)

Ncebakazi Msomi - Mayibongwe The 34th PsalmLyrics and translation Zihlanjwe zonk' izono zam(All my sins have been washed away)Lisuswe lonk' ityala lam(All my guilt has been removed)Mayib...

Relationships are a lot like algebra. Have you ever looked at your X and wondered Y?

You know that tingly little feeling you get when you like someone? That's your common sense leaving your body.

The difference between "Girlfriend" and "Girl Friend" is that little space in between us we call the "Friend Zone".

Never laugh at your girlfriends choices... your one of them.

If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I'd have a galaxy in my hand.

Can I have your picture so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas?

I have never understood why women love cats. Cats are independent, they don't listen, they don't come in when you call, they like to stay out all night, and when they're home they like to be left alone and sleep. In other words, every quality that women hate in a man, they love in a cat.

Friends are forever. Until they get in a relationship.

You may fall from the sky, you may fall from a tree, but the best way to fall... is in love with me.

"Excuse me miss, can I have the time? I'd check my watch but I can't take my eyes off you."

I'm sorry I wasn't part of your past, can I make it up by being in your future?

It's not a relationship until you argue about whose turn it is to apologize.

Back in the days, it was my first menial job. I was given the info of one recruitment agency in the heart of Victoria Station, London. I was there on Friday to register and then told to come back early on Monday to complete the proces along with interview.

I fasted and prayed for God’s favour, and I left home shortly before 5am as I was instructed. I was so confident all would go well. Prayers from home, fasting, and church prayers on Sunday were power-packed for me. It was all left to me not to blow it.

The point was to make it down to the Victoria office before rush hour kicked in as they were expecting a huge turnout. Office would open at 8am.

I was at our home bus stop by 4:30am on Shooters Hill Road in Blackheath where I was staying with my uncle and aunty. I made it to Lewisham station on time as Bus 89 from Slade Green or Bexleyheath did not disappoint.

Bendy Bus 436 to Victoria Station was supposed to pick us up shortly after 5:15am but none showed up. I had no cause for alarm as that bus never failed me once since my arrival.

By quarter to six, I was panicking. I had seen some people jump on Bus 185 to Victoria Station after more than 20 mins of waiting along with me. I noticed they were reluctant at first, but they soon joined the one that came after. Bus 185 was unusually frequent that morning.

I held back because I was warned not to board it as it would take longer time to reach Victoria. Unfortunately, I ran out of faith. I jumped on the next one.

The reason I ran out of faith was because I believed the village powers had seen I was at the edge of my breakthrough and they decided to disrupt the only bus route I knew would get me to my destination. I thought the powers that be wanted me to miss out on being at the front of the queue.

I believed I had my destiny in my hand and I could frustrate the enemies, so I jumped on 185. It was the longest and the worst journey of my life.

Those that knew London very well knew where they could get down at anytime, cross the road, and take another bus that would do a slingshot journey for them. As for me, I knew nothing. It was the week local authorities began multiple roadworks with hundreds of temporary signals punctuating every yard of the journey.

I watched my joy, smile and hope slip away when it was 7am. The driver upon checking out with him asked me why I didn’t wait for 436. He told me to get down somewhere and take train but I didn’t quite understand the accent then. O kan runmupo soro fun mi ni. Then 7:15…and 7:30. It all turned to sadness thereafter as I decided to siddon look.

I thought enemies had won and that I would have to join the queue. I know I heard they only wanted 50 people, and my experience of queuing up for various recruitment agencies like that meant I still had more fasting and praying to do.

We got to Victoria Station around half past 8, and I ran like a deer towards the office. My fear was confirmed as I saw the zigzag of queues in front of the office building. I quickly scan to the end and I could tell I would be sandwiched between 200 and 250.

I was the last person on the queue and I was fighting God for not answering my prayers. People that came after me that I saw and thought would at least stand behind me and save me the shame of last person soon made their way forward to join their associates and friends to jist. Suddenly, they were grafted into the queue which backed into me and I had to step back too.

Rather than go forward on the queue, hanky panky of my Wazobian people mostly pushed me back as they kept joining the line in the middle. I wanted to challenge them but I knew they would all descend on me with their ‘Ngbati’ noise, and would also claim they were there before.

Just before I made up my mind to leave and return home, Selma, the lady who had processed my completed forms on Friday, and who also asked me to come early on Monday in order to have a chance, just showed up with office groceries in her hands.

She had to come through one of the zigzag lines so she could access the main entrance door. That was when I noticed the office door was not even opened yet.

As she struggled to open the door with all the bags she carried, I stepped out of my last man position that had been for almost half an hour to help her out. She was grateful as I saw the relief in her face.

I helped her to the 2nd floor of the office which she opened and she asked me to drop them off in the kitchen as she wheeled away to power her system. I was already on my way down.

I was about stepping back into my last man spot when I heard that pretty Indian voice calling my name as if she was singing ‘Dus Numberi’ song.

“She knows my name, she knows my name, she knows my name” was all that I could utter in shock. She had walked down the steps to get my attention whilst calling after me. I went back upstairs and she asked me to sit down.

The next 10-15 mins she spent putting my papers together without asking me questions turned my prayers to “God forgive me for my unbelief, God forgive me for my unbelief”. When she was done, she gave me a sheet of paper with Rota of venues to go for a full month. She said “when you finish the month rota, don’t ask anybody else for shift, just come to me’.

The only days she did not fill for me were Saturdays and Sundays as I specifically requested when she asked me towards the end if I could work Saturday and Sunday too.

My job started immediately as I was to head straight to somewhere around Tottenham Court Road Station.

As I stepped outside, I saw angry, hungry faces of Wazobians looking at me and wondering why she called me back upstairs. The smile of joy unconsciously radiating on my cheeks gave me away.

The next thing I heard from one of my Oodua brothers talking to another fellow in Yoruba was “wo ore (look friend), don’t trust any of our fellow eniyan dudu oh, only God can tell the number of herbalists that washed his (me) head before coming here”.

I wanted to say ‘no herbalist dey my matter’ but I just thought I should let it slip. I would later meet that guy again many months after at Oval Station where I picked up in a VIP Lounge a Company’s Premium Credit Card after an Australia-England Cricket game. He was shocked when he saw me looking for the Lounge Manager to return it to him.

He said loud and clear in Yoruba “I trust my people, we will drag out the life in that card first before we even think of checking who the owner is’. He almost froze when I responded in Yoruba - “Omo Yoruba ni mi, if it does not belong to you, it is a poison. We won’t eat ijekuje oh.

Sometimes, when It looks dark and gloomy, it does not mean God is not in it. When the earth was empty, dark and void, the spirit of the Lord was still moving upon the face of the waters.

In whatever situation you are in, God is still working in such a way that will favour you. Stop your unbelief.

Time Out with Amostiasis Learn, laugh and believe

Back in the days, it was my first menial job. I was given the info of one recruitment agency in the heart of Victoria Station, London. I was there on Friday to register and then told to come back early on Monday to complete the proces along with interview.

I fasted and prayed for God’s favour, and I left home shortly before 5am as I was instructed. I was so confident all would go well. Prayers from home, fasting, and church prayers on Sunday were power-packed for me. It was all left to me not to blow it.

The point was to make it down to the Victoria office before rush hour kicked in as they were expecting a huge turnout. Office would open at 8am.

I was at our home bus stop by 4:30am on Shooters Hill Road in Blackheath where I was staying with my uncle and aunty. I made it to Lewisham station on time as Bus 89 from Slade Green or Bexleyheath did not disappoint.

Bendy Bus 436 to Victoria Station was supposed to pick us up shortly after 5:15am but none showed up. I had no cause for alarm as that bus never failed me once since my arrival.

By quarter to six, I was panicking. I had seen some people jump on Bus 185 to Victoria Station after more than 20 mins of waiting along with me. I noticed they were reluctant at first, but they soon joined the one that came after. Bus 185 was unusually frequent that morning.

I held back because I was warned not to board it as it would take longer time to reach Victoria. Unfortunately, I ran out of faith. I jumped on the next one.

The reason I ran out of faith was because I believed the village powers had seen I was at the edge of my breakthrough and they decided to disrupt the only bus route I knew would get me to my destination. I thought the powers that be wanted me to miss out on being at the front of the queue.

I believed I had my destiny in my hand and I could frustrate the enemies, so I jumped on 185. It was the longest and the worst journey of my life.

Those that know London very well know where they can get down at anytime, cross the road, and take another bus that would do a slingshot journey for them. As for me, I knew nothing. It was the week local authorities began multiple roadworks with hundreds of temporary signals punctuating every yard of the journey.

I watched my joy, smile and hope slip away when it was 7am. The driver upon checking out with him asked me why I didn’t wait for 436. He told me to get down somewhere and take train but I didn’t quite understand the accent then. O kan runmupo soro fun mi ni. Then 7:15…and 7:30. It all turned to sadness thereafter as I decided to siddon look.

I thought enemies had won and that I would have to join the queue. I know I heard they only wanted 50 people, and my experience of queuing up for various recruitment agencies like that meant I still had more fasting and praying to do.

We got to Victoria Station around half past 8, and I ran like a deer towards the office. My fear was confirmed as I saw the zigzag of queues in front of the office building. I quickly scanned to the end and I could tell I would be sandwiched between 200 and 250.

I was the last person on the queue and I was fighting God for not answering my prayers. People that came after me that I saw and thought would at least stand behind me and save me the shame of last person soon made their way forward to join their associates and friends to jist. Suddenly, they were grafted into the queue which backed into me and I had to step back too.

Rather than go forward on the queue, hanky panky of my Wazobian people mostly pushed me back as they kept joining the line in the middle. I wanted to challenge them but I knew they would all descend on me with their ‘Ngbati’ noise, and would also claim they were there before.

Just before I made up my mind to leave and return home, Selma, the lady who had processed my completed forms on Friday, and who also asked me to come early on Monday in order to have a chance, just showed up with office groceries in her hands.

She had to come through one of the zigzag lines so she could access the main entrance door. That was when I noticed the office door was not even opened yet.

As she struggled to open the door with all the bags she carried, I stepped out of my last man position that had been for almost half an hour to help her out. She was grateful as I saw the relief in her face.

I helped her to the 2nd floor of the office which she opened and she asked me to drop them off in the kitchen as she wheeled away to power her system. I was already on my way down.

I was about stepping back into my last man spot when I heard that pretty Indian voice calling my name as if she was singing ‘Dus Numberi’ song.

“She knows my name, she knows my name, she knows my name” was all that I could utter in shock. She had walked down the steps to get my attention whilst calling after me. I went back upstairs and she asked me to sit down.

The next 10-15 mins she spent putting my papers together without asking me questions turned my prayers to “God forgive me for my unbelief, God forgive me for my unbelief”. When she was done, she gave me a sheet of paper with Rota of venues to go for a full month. She said “when you finish the month rota, don’t ask anybody else for shift, just come to me’.

The only days she did not fill for me were Saturdays and Sundays as I specifically requested when she asked me towards the end if I could work Saturday and Sunday too.

My job started immediately as I was to head straight to somewhere around Tottenham Court Road Station.

As I stepped outside, I saw angry, hungry faces of Wazobians looking at me and wondering why she called me back upstairs. The smile of joy unconsciously radiating on my cheeks gave me away.

The next thing I heard from one of my Oodua brothers talking to another fellow in Yoruba was “wo ore (look friend), don’t trust any of our fellow eniyan dudu oh, only God can tell the number of herbalists that washed his (me) head before coming here”.

I wanted to say ‘no herbalist dey my matter’ but I just thought I should let it slip. I would later meet that guy again many months after at Oval Station where I picked up in a VIP Lounge a Company’s Premium Credit Card after an Australia-England Cricket game. He was shocked when he saw me looking for the Lounge Manager to return it to him.

He said loud and clear in Yoruba “I trust my people, we will drag out the life in that card first before we even think of checking who the owner is’. He almost froze when I responded in Yoruba - “Omo Yoruba ni mi, if it does not belong to you, it is a poison. We won’t eat ijekuje oh.

Sometimes, when It looks dark and gloomy, it does not mean God is not in it. When the earth was empty, dark and void, the spirit of the Lord was still moving upon the face of the waters.

In whatever situation you are in, God is still working in such a way that will favour you. Stop your unbelief.