House of the family by Ephraim O.

Yes, the guys help out...every now and then

I've been meaning to dedicate a post to the NCCF family house, my second home in Iwo, but I keep procrastinating 'cause it feels like one of those posts which would require a day or two to put together. I fear omitting important details as there are endless things to write about. One day, though. One day.

In the meantime, Ephraim, a former housemate, has put one together. Check it out:

Stolen times could be pleasurable especially when it is from the thick of a headache-inducing chore. On this particular day at my workplace, it wasn't a classical case of increased workload but boredom from the routine. Immediately the call came, I didn't bother getting the details from the caller. "Excuse me Ma'am, I've got an emergency situation to handle," I muttered hurriedly, creating an atmosphere of urgency.

Ten minutes later, I was done. It only required penciling down my name and signature. I gazed at the bare floor like an old man afterwards, submerged in thoughts of what to do with the next thirty minutes. Returning immediately to work wasn't an option. The atmosphere of angst still needed to be retained at work by a little delay. Then the thought hit me like a hardball, 'House of the Family!'

When we first got to this town, it was the only place we could call home. And even after most of us have found our various houses, it's still the place we can call home outside our home. The NCCF (Nigerian Christian Corpers' Fellowship) family house. The place Housemate Emma Blu nicknamed 'house of the family', and it stuck like glue. 

And true to my expectations, the house bubbled with excitement and pomp of corpers, not a few. We had 'Bobo' or OmoBOLANLE, as she prefers to be called. Despite her lively nature, she has the knack for defending her beliefs with relentless passion. You want to see the full glare of her gesticulations? Engage her in a debate or argument.

Also present in the house was the cake making trio of DiDi, Rabbi (in trousers) and Kenny. This DiDi guy teaches ladies cake making and other wedding accessories. Though Iwo may not boast of a single fast food joint, a well baked cake from this trio combined with one chilled Chivita. . .who needs Tantalizers or Sizzlers?

The ever conventional Nonso, popularly referred to as 'Uncle' was also present. Hmmm! I can say volumes of him and not be bored. He is a passionate fellow. You may not fancy his persona at first, but you can't deny his importance. I'll describe him as a bone that can neither be chewed nor swallowed.

Emmanuel AKA 'Emma Blu' was also present. Hilarious, principled, unassuming, give him a pair of drum sticks and you have won a spot in his heart. 

What can I say of this enigmatic icon. Folz, Dele, 'Aunty', the names are endless. I'm still yet to find a razzer LADY (note the adjectives and the emphasis) than this. Hardworking, caring, sharing, a good cook, playful, serious (Folz, don't edit any part of this article). She's been a wonderful friend since our first step on Iwo soil. 

The list of housemates still includes the likes of Gerald, Pastor Patrick, Ogbeni of the Federal Republic of Family House AKA Olusegun, Super Shy Mama Eunice, A.Mama Grace, Favour, etc

I had to leave after sharing shouts, songs and teasings with folks present. House of the family…hmm! The only sane place in Iwo with many 'insane' people.

Go to Iwo by Ife A.

Last week was a really good week. My best here so thus far, I'd add. My good friend, Ife, came down from Lagos to spend a couple of days with me here in Iwo. While it seemed to me that she enjoyed her time here, I figured the best way to be sure would be to get her to write about the experience. Below is what she sent in:

‘Odo Ori’. ‘Odo Ori’. ‘Odo Ori’. If there’s one place I will never forget in Iwo, it is Odo Ori. Never mind that my pronunciation of it would interpret as ‘water of head’, which is a big fail. Anyways, if you can locate Odo Ori, you can probably navigate your way around Iwo. That’s what I think.

Five highlights of my trip to Iwo exist. 

Of course Odo Ori market features. The trip ended up dousing my eagerness to go to the market, but it was still a highlight. One can’t expect much from a village (sorry Foladele :p). It was interesting (because of the ‘apo kan’s and the ‘muri meta’s – it gets deeper than that o – rather than the boring N200 or N60 *yawn*), but more exhausting. Everyone and everything was everywhere and anywhere. So you keep asking where you can find an elero or elegusi or something. For some reason, they don’t congregate in one place in the market.  Fair enough, competition may be intense that way but mehn, the effort of asking and going round and round yo! If you're feeling brave and ever want to go to Odo Ori sha, market day is every four days.

Highlight number B. The NCCF Family House. As my friend plays a key role (she's called 'Aunty'. Don't get me started on the titles), we attended the prayer meeting that night. Might I add that it was yummy. I needed that session, I needed that presence, I needed that opportunity. It was a yay. Also got to meet other members of the NCCF family that were present. Generally cool peoples. :) 

Highlight letter 3. Iwo River. We walked to the river. It was a goofy journey. We got there and encountered a security guard whom, like many others in Nigeria, was power-hungry. Sometimes you're better off massaging their egos and moving on with your own life. Or the river, as was the case here. It was still, it was serene. The Psalmist knew what he was saying when he said 'He leads me beside the still waters'. I'd spend more time there if it weren't surrounded by bushes and insects. If you can handle both, go there, and stay there for a while :) Don't fall in sha o! #OYOsturvs

Highlight numero quatre. Random worship sesh with Ephraim and planned prayer sesh with Ola. God shows when He wants to show. Just be prepared and stay open. That's what I learned from these two encounters.  

Highlight number last (but not least). CDS. Just when I thought I had paid my own dues, I found myself at a secretariat for CDS again. Cos Foladele dragged me along. After, from 10am to about 1pm+, there was NCCF fellowship. I was like 'Lord I love you, but these guys are just taking the piss now, like!'. It was good, learned a few and was inspired, but kai, it was long and I was starved. People prolly didn't like me very much by the end of it. Or the other way around! ;) 

Go to Iwo though!!! Oranges are cheap, Okadas are cheaper and they have lots of kulikuli. If you know someone there, even better! Go visit! 

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

"Aunty, ejo, e mu wa f'ona"

After fulfilling the CDS ritual on this lovely Thursday morning, I was heading home when I decided to make a quick detour to satisfy that morning's puff-puff craving. Going home to make the puff-puff myself was going to be a longer process that would first require a trip to the supermarket; one I wasn't 'gingered' for, so that was out of the question. So, I kept skimming the streets. With my keen eyes moving from left to right in search of guiding clues, like a woman covered in dough, a firewood spot or a big frying pan, anything! I just wanted some puff-puff! It felt as if they had chosen this day to strike or something, 'cause puff-puff is very popular in this town, so why couldn't I find any today? The craving was so strong that when I couldn't find the fresh-off-the-fire ones I'd usually go for, I settled for the hawked ones. 

No, this post isn't about puff-puff, I'm going somewhere with this, I promise.

Two girls had walked past me. They looked no more than 8-10 years of age. One was hawking puff-puff, the other, newspapers. After paying for my puff-puff, we exchanged goodbyes. Then something I found interesting followed. The girls said to me, "Aunty, ejo, e mu wa f'ona". They wanted to get to the other side of the road and needed my help doing so. 

It was this moment that helped me understand something I had noticed in months past. The culture here is a very 'learn-on-the-job' one, and age is indeed just a number. Parents don't care if their children are old enough to cross the streets, all they care about is that puff-puff and newspapers need to be sold. So, you must become old enough; you must find a way around it. Here, you'll see 8-year olds putting together the firewood, fetching from the well, holding down the family business in their parents' absence. The children learn to be tough at a very young age. What am I even saying writing? Half of the students at my school don't even know their age! That's how unconcerned with age Iwo-ites are. I discovered recently that each of these students has an after-school hustle. Today, I'm bumping into Kudirat at the market where she sells fufu in the evenings, tomorrow evening, I'm seeing Taiye helping his mechanic uncle out at his uncle's 'shobu'(shop). While on one hand, it surprises me, and maybe even worries me a little to see young children taking on huge responsibilities; on the other, I guess the good side to it is that it prepares these children for the future; you know, stimulates their mind. I reckon if the school thing doesn't work out in the future, they won't be completely stranded. 

Welcome to Iwo where whether young or old, the hustle must continue. 


PS: It's a town, not a village :P

Learning; a conscious effort

As I sit here in a room at the NCCF (Nigerian Christian Corpers' Fellowship) family house, a Yoruba lesson is taking place in the room next door. Yoruba-speaking Person A is teaching Person B (from Akwa-Ibom) some Yoruba words. You can tell the latter is confused, though; her face always gives her away, but her passion for learning the language is admirable. 

NYSC is apparently supposed to integrate cultures, and since this is a Yoruba town, you can imagine that most of the corpers here are either from the East or the South but give them another 2-3 months and I bet no one would be able to tell where anyone's from because of how passionately these non-Yoruba speaking corpers daily immerse themselves in the culture. From our Yoruba song-based worship sessions sometimes even led by non-Yoruba speakers; kneeling to greet elders, to knowing when to use 'o' and when to use 'e' in Yoruba as a sign of respect, it is clear that because of their keen interest to learn, these people are blending in so well with the Iwo lifestyle and culture.

Whenever we go to the market, my friend would turn to me and ask, "If muri marun is N100, then what is N200?" and questions of the sort. People who are are more familiar with 'ila alasepo' have had to embrace eating their okro with stew, Yoruba style. And eating egusi and efo more often than they are used to. I find their progress laudable. It has made me realize that learning is a conscious effort because being in a new place does not guarantee that one'd be a part of the culture there, until that person makes the conscious decision to do so. I say this because I'm sure you'd find those few people who can't be bothered or aren't interested in integrating; those who if after their NYSC experience here, are asked to translate a word as easy as 'sorry' to Yoruba, might not be able to. 

If there's one thing I have and am still learning, it's that open-mindedness is vital for an enjoyable NYSC experience.

Image source: Google

PS: It's a town, not a village :P

Iwo; its pluses by Ephraim O.

Recently, my friend, Ephraim, who's also passionate about writing, and I were talking about the joys of Iwo. It was actually this conversation that birthed my last post, 10 things I like about Iwo. So, I asked him to write a post, sharing some of his favourite things about the town, too. Below is his piece:

We hopped from the bike cladded in our khaki pants and crested vest that showed we'd just been dispatched to discharge our national assignment, and offered him what we thought was fair for our short trip. A trip from the market to the place where we would call home for the next couple of weeks but with the most genuine smile, he kickstarted his bike and said, "Don't worry". 

"Amazing! Where in Naija does this ever happen?" In Benin, where I come from, you'd wait till your patience turns into longsuffering. We turned and looked at each other, trying to certify our disbelief before walking to our destination. This experience was our swan-song for the next couple of days that followed. This happened on my first day in Iwo. 

If one is a happenstance and two a coincidence, I wonder what name the dictionary would use to accomodate a more than three, four or five occasions of the goodwill and kindness these folks express on a regular basis. For instance, a friend told me of how one of their landlords offered them accomodation at no charge. This is a three-bedroom flat built to satisfy modern taste. How many landlords would do that in lagos or in Benin?

I wouldn't forget hastily that prices for goods and services are valley-deep cheap here. Yes! Some would argue that this is so because Iwo is a town but so what? In the town I am from, prices there would favourably compete with those of Enugu, Ibadan and Onitsha. A N50 trip on a bike here in Iwo is equivalent to N200 or N250 in lagos. Slippers that would cost N1400 in Benin was sold to me at N550 here.

One lasting impression Iwo leaves in my memory bank is the fact that folks here old or young, none stands to receive greetings. Both the greeter and the greeted go down when they exchange pleasantries. Respect being mutual and cordial. I hope my egotistic, money-conscious city fellas get to learn from these folks.

And like I had told a friend the first month we came here, "Iwo is not a mistake". It indeed has been a blessing. 

PS: It's a town, not a village

10 things I like about Iwo

I still can't believe that it's been 5 months since I moved to Iwo. Like I've not only implied in earlier posts but also stated, life here has been a very intriguing experience. 

1. Amidst all the experiences, one thing that has stood out for me here is what I call 'blissful backwardness'. Iwo is a town where you'd rediscover things you had thought had gone out of style. Coming from a city where we've moved on to biscuits like orange-blue-pack Cream Crackers, Hob-Nobs and Digestive (the N25 ones), it was exciting for me to rediscover 'Temitope' biscuit (pictured below) here some days ago. I remember them being tougher to chew but I find them softer and more enjoyable now. If you didn't eat this biscuit growing up, you are uncool. 

2. I've also rediscovered 'Kuli-kuli'. For a town located in the west, I find it surprising how popular they are here. Prior to the move to Iwo, I hadn't seen this snack in over a decade. Now, I find myself eating it every other day. Oh, you find 'Baba Dudu' out here, too.

3. I wear a genuine smile when random children on the streets bend their knees to greet me because they don't have to do so but they do. Out here, showing respect is a continuous act, even to people you don't know.

4. Evening walks; where some of my best thinking and dreaming is done. The cool evening breeze and greenness of the atmosphere make this very precious.

5. The toys the kids create (pictured below). Sometimes, an illusion is just enough.

An empty pack of sardines, 4 bottle tops, 2 lollipop sticks and a rope to pull

6. The cleanliness of the streets

7. The typographical errors on sign posts make me chuckle

8. Cheap cost of living. The distance an okada man or a keke-ist would charge N150-N200 for in Lagos, would be N50 here.

9. There's this bakery by my house, I look forward to going past it every morning and getting slapped in the face by the smell of fresh bakery bread. Not from Shoprite or Barcelos, but from Ise Oluwa bakery. 

10. Expanding my Yoruba vocabulary. Ex: 'ifa'mi', the thing with which you draw water from a well, is also called 'doro'.


PS: It's a town, not a village :P