My Neighbour, The Witch

Real Life - Observation - The Gist

So last time I told you about Matilda, abi? Well… now you know who the witch is. Yeah, I know some of you were thinking I was going to say it was my sister, my sister-in-law or even an ex-girlfriend (God bless all these darlings). No… my neighbour is the witch and I can prove it.

Ok, first of all she’s not really my neighbour. It’s even worse! She’s my housemate! How a guy came about sharing a flat with a sorceress is a long story but I’ll try to summarize. She used to be housemate and friend to my sister until I moved in with said sister. Sis got another job and a new place and moved out leaving me there with the witch.

Some might say I’m sounding harsh in my judgments most especially as I haven’t seen her fly at night or attend a coven but just because I haven’t doesn’t mean that she can’t do it. I have it on good authority that she has visited a spiritualist once. And come to think of it, she feels I’m the devil too so I guess we’re even.

Now let’s study the points one by one. Take her music. She’s supposed to be born-again and stuff so she’s heavily into Gospel music - unlike me. She thinks I’m possessed by an unclean spirit because I rarely play anything spiritual but I know she just sings religious songs because their lyrics are much easier to remember. To make matters worse, she always criticizes any secular hit song only for you to catch her singing the same tune weeks later. Right now she’s feeling “Ijoba Orun” which she puts on continuous replay ALL DAY LONG. Was almost tempted to ask her if her (borrowed) copy of Lara George’s CD has only THAT track.

Me, I appreciate religious music but forcing it into the ears of all my neighbours for a radius of 2 blocks isn’t exactly my idea of Salvation and Evangelism. Why not leave the loud music for when Don Moen or Reinhard Bonke come into town? And when PHCN mercifully cuts the power, her bass voice takes up where the speakers left out as she belts out all the Integrity Music classics in English and her local tongue.

Then take her Religion. She’s supposed to be a born and bred, dyed-in-the-wool Anglican, right? Good. Now explain to me how come she jumps from one church to the other attending their programmes, vigils and stuff during the week and yet refuses to go to Church on Sundays! It sure beats the hell out of me. Why refuse to worship Him on this one special day? Is she afraid of the church building, the Pastor or the congregation?

Next is her attitude. She always goes on and on about me and my being a guy-thing being responsible for me not taking care of the house properly. Hello? Last time I checked, she was every bit as untidy as I am. Only difference is she knows how to put up an appearance when she’s expecting visitors. She expects me to clean up the bathroom (which I do occasionally - without announcements) and yet she has this annoying habit of brushing her teeth on the bathroom floor and shooting huge balls of phlegm all over the place (Yuck!) Now, I know I’m not really tidying up as well as I should but the dishes can wait till I return from work, can’t they?

Speaking of work, she’s so so intent on getting me sacked. There is no other explanation for why she times when I wake up and then rushes into the bathroom to stay for an hour! I mean, what is she doing there? She goes quiet for almost 30 minutes and then (in my opinion) just splashes water around for the remainder. To thwart the ploy, I took to waking 30 minutes earlier that my normal time (so as to capture the bathroom first) only for her to start waking up 35 minutes earlier! The same goes for the kitchen.

I bet by now someone’s wondering how a red-blooded male like me can manage sharing facilities with a female and avoid the problems of temptation. Maybe if she were drop-dead gorgeous or something, I’d have been giving her a better tag than the one I repeatedly use. Now I’m not a Romeo either but I am lucky I’m smart. Similarly, I prefer a female who has her grey matter in excess. As for her, her plainness of face and ill-proportioned figure would only make her appealing to a distinct class of men who prefer a certain part of the female anatomy to be in excess.

And to make matters worse, these men are not in short supply as they make their rounds, stupid men who leave their wives/mistresses/girlfriends to come and take a break in her arms, eat her food, sleep over and leave. Then I get to be her shoulder to cry on as she laments that she hasn’t yet found a husband and then she starts preparing to attend yet another vigil. Newsflash! Nobody needs a Prophet to foretell that no sensible man is going to marry a woman who gives them free recreational love.

Another thing I seriously dislike is a female who multiple-dates. I just can’t reconcile the idea of a person like her recklessly going a-sinning, confident in the fact that God is always there to forgive and take her back. I’m no saint, I don’t like throwing stones but I’m thinking she needs a well-aimed pebble to bring her back to her senses.

Despite all these, the witch has her uses though. If for nothing else, she keeps me supplied with rented Nollywood movies - trash and treasures alike - which I can never somehow bring myself to rent, not to talk of buying. And besides, even though my game is way too weak I can be sure that there will be someone I can always dazzle with my personality.

After all, she has none…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Bits And Pieces: Quick Takes On Entertainment

All Media - The Gist - Summarized

Street-ctly Credible
Caught glimpses of 9ice’s “Street Credibility” music video on Celtel’s Central Station Special on Wednesday July 23, around 8:30 pm or so. It’s sure been a long time coming and just like his moniker, the music video is nice too. However, after the initial dose I couldn’t help not feeling a bit unimpressed. The said video contains the same HD camera-shot footage, impressive backdrops, panoramic jib camera angles and feature artistes that are now slowly and steadily become a staple in almost all Nigerian music videos.

The trend is beginning to look like you can get away with a great music video even if the song in question is trash. Whatever happened to funny, simple or just plain crazy music videos? Or the ones with storylines like Djinee’s “I No Dey Shame” or Beautiful Nubia’s OST video for Tunde Kelani’s movie? (And another thought: How come the musical videos’ cinematic innovations are yet to migrate over to Nollywood?)

9ice’s video features the likes of Ruggedman and 2shotz but what really did it for me was Tuface’s T-shirt. Am I seeing double or were the words “Enyimba FC” boldly emblazoned on it? Any eagle eyes out there please spot if this is so and report to me A.S.A.P. Wouldn’t it be great if Nigerian football clubs could get out their own clothing lines instead of all those Premier League knock-offs a.k.a. replica jerseys many Nigerian “fans” crave for?

The Advert Wars
The Bankers are at it again. When they’re not trying to impress us with their lending rates or P & L sheets, they take to slugging it out in the boardroom or the football fields. Or our TV screens for that matter.

It’s no secret that Skye Bank PLC and Bank PHB are always going neck to neck with each other when it comes to advertising but guess what: now I think it’s about time I get to choose the winner.

Ok, so both banks decided to employ good music pieces for their ads. Good point but Skye Bank’s “Yes” attitude didn’t go down well with me when they decided to mutilate the “Lion King” soundtrack. If I was Cobhams Asuquo the Maestro Extraordinaire, I’d have distanced myself from such a debacle.

I guess I speak for all die-hard Disney fans to say I cringe anytime I hear “Hakuna Matata” sounding like it was edited with a machine gun or watch the nonsensical choreography in the two TV versions of that ad. Even my baby niece won’t dance to that.

PHB’s choice of R. Kelly’s “The World’s Greatest” showcasing the extraordinary capabilities of ordinary people (the so-called P H Beings) is the clear Advert War winner. For now…

As for me, I trust neither. It will take more than good music and a beautiful ad to stop me keeping my money under the mattress.

Between Power And Passion
Once upon a time, there was a certain energy drink in powder form called Power Fist that never seemed to catch on with the market even after it adopted the Koko Master as its brand icon. Saw the marketing dames/dudes behind it on one episode of The Apprentice Africa trying to re-brand their stuff.

Passion Energy drink, another competitor in the same sector entered into the game some months back and these guys are choosing to fight dirty even if the weapon employed involves some subtle name-calling. Pray, is there a better explanation for the Passion drink’s slogan which categorically states: Passion Pass Power!

If anyone has another interpretation of this, please let me know.

Sh*t Mennn!
No, I’m not the one swearing but a certain Radio OAP (On-Air Personality) was actually doing so! Happened to catch a certain Radio phone-in programme on LivingSpring 104.5 FM, Osogbo on Wednesday, the 9th of July or thereabouts. Time was going on 11 pm and the topic was on women who double-date.

Now, I don’t know the rationale behind the choice of topic but the contributors seemed to be feeling the gist. Then a certain female caller comes on air. Girlfriend wisely states that “…women date more than one guy because they want to have a spare in case one of them f**ks up”.

Being used to the Rhythm 93.7 Port Harcourt OAPs’ choice of punishment for using expletives which could take one of two forms: either getting the caller to apologize for using the f-word or cutting off the call altogether, I was a little bit uneasy when LivingSpring’s OAP goes ahead to parrot the caller, f-word for f-word.

Now I ain’t no prude but I sure was startled when the call drops while female caller was stating her point and homeboy yells out: “Sh*t Mennn! What is wrong with this network?”

No bad feelings, brother. I feel your pain too! Let’s just keep it clean on-air, OK?

Still Speaking of Ads…
After dissing them on the subject, the Onga Ad disappeared for a while and I thought they were listening. Who-sai? The ad is back in full force, further incurring my wrath and continuously embarrassing my poor dear Kate all the time. Unlike many people, I happen to really watch adverts - almost with movie-like dedication I must add.

Her excessively made-up “daughter” in that ad who brandishes an equally heavily made-up accent by the way, looks like she should be almost Kate’s age (hence the make-up) and I don’t still get the Onga/Tradition link.

Can anybody explain that ad to me as well? Maybe I’m getting slow… or maybe Iya Basira has been putting too much Onga in my food again…

Ko Won Je
That’s the title of another video I caught on CCS. This one is by Big Bamo featuring Tolu, all formerly of Maintain fame. The beat was good, I liked the changing tempos and switched beats and those killer dancers (they look like kids to me - I’m seeing double again) sure know how to step.

My only beef? The set did look a tad monotonous throughout the video. And as for the rap? Guess I didn’t notice till now how Olu and Tolu sound so alike.

And GUSsy Comes Visiting…
Lest I forget, my TV friend came visiting at night on the 19th of July. That’s right, the Gulder Ultimate Search began in earnest just as I’d hinted you earlier and this time there was no postponement in broadcast like after the unfortunate circumstances of last year.

In fact if death would have been mentioned in the same breath as GUSsy, it must have been when I was swearing at the maloo NTA Program Scheduler. Whoever it was decided to start showing Charley Boy and Tunde Obey’s “Zoomtime” in the time slot that had been hyped all day for the Ultimate Search. Luckily for them, me and the TV I almost smashed, they switched back just in time for me to see re-runs of the previous editions of GUS.

OK, the re-runs are long over, the selected 40 have been drilled at the Lagos Sea School and the preliminary 18 whittled down to the final 10 Ultimate Men and Women. So, grab your remotes, refuel your generators, and get ready to be entertained for the next 11 days or so.

Matilda And The Witch…

Real Life - Observation - The Gist

Today I’ve been doing just what that Xscape song recommends we should do “…kick off your shoes and relax your feet…” I want to go a bit low-key on this post and give you a tiny peek into my almost non-existent social life. For those of you who wonder what I do in my spare time, well… I have a girlfriend and I call her Matilda.

Her parents didn’t name her so but I’ve been feeling that name ever since I watched the Roald Dahl movie about a little girl who possesses magical powers much to the annoyance of her Danny DeVito-cast father. I just had to give her that name. My Matilda is jet-black and ordinary with a streak of silver in her hair and though there’s nothing spectacular about her looks, she suits me just fine.

It might sound like taboo but Matilda was my elder brother’s love at first before I took her over from him. It’s been 3 years now and I don’t mind the “inheritance” one bit. We’ve had our ups and downs and had some major issues and even though she has gone through an abortion and suffered a massive breakdown, I still love her as much as the day I first set eyes on her glowing face.

She’s fine, she’s cool, she’s smart, she’s faithful and she’s mine. She’s my Compaq Evo N610c laptop computer.

She’s kinda old-fashioned now and she can get cranky at times but I love her like crazy. One day she mysteriously aborted her lithium-ion battery thus forcing me to run her only on electricity nowadays. I guess that’s why I hate PHCN so. Sometime last year, she also crashed her hard disk making me lose years and years of hard work spanning generations including my timeless photo, literature and music collections (I used to boast then that I had more music than some radio stations - and it was true). But it will take more than that to make me lose my love.

Matilda did recover from the crash without my lost data of course, but ever since then she’s been behaving kinda eccentric. Recently, her favourite trick is to suddenly and mysteriously trip off especially when those stupid cows that pass for humans in the cyber café who can’t be bothered to look down caress her wire with their stinking hooves. But lately, she’s added a new trick. I might just be sitting down fooling with my keyboard, thinking what next I’ll write on to punish you guys with and WHAM! Matilda shocks me with 240 volts of pure unadulterated electricity! Ok, PHCN rarely supplies 240 volts so let’s just say it’s 210 volts.

Now, I do some Engineering and yes, I’ve been electrocuted several times (nothing fatal though so far or my ghost would be writing this) but Matilda’s kind is so annoying! It happens somewhere around the volume button maybe when I’m about to turn it up or down depending on if I’m feeling the music or not. As if she’s trying to tell me, “Hey! You aren’t giving me enough attention. Don’t touch me there like that!”

Sigh… The scientific mind I claim to possess some of the time tells me maybe a strand of wire has been broken in her AC/DC adapter and that’s what makes her trip so whenever anyone comes close. Common sense says that maybe there’s a fault with the house wiring that makes voltage pass through the earth terminal to shock me when I touch the metallic volume buttons. I can’t really say for sure.

It might be the mystic in me but I think Matilda’s been bewitched! I think I even know who the witch is.

Psst! Come closer…Don’t say I told you but I think the witch is my…WHAM!...OUCH! There, Matilda has shocked me again.

Maybe I’ll gist you about the witch next post… or the one after that...

Less Criticisms Please…

My friend, T Banky is one of the Sages…

Most of the feedback I get hardly comes from the Comments field of my blog. Those that really care send me e-mail highlighting points that I struck squarely on the head or missed badly. Others like T Banky call me late at night to seriously discuss.

The problem with most of us Bloggers, if I get T Banky right, is that we are trying too hard. We all are striving to be too DEEP. But you can’t really blame us. With the rapid population explosion of blogville’s citizens and the even shorter time to read, comment and post, we break our literary backs probably hoping that our intellect will reflect in every sentence we put down and keep that reader coming back not only to drink deep of the well of our knowledge but to refer their friends to the fountain as well.

I came to this sudden realization when I asked my dear friend to give me her impartial criticism of my MN blog. Now I know I probably stand as Number One accused of the very same crimes which I continuously point out. My midnight calls with Banky have been a real eye-opener and taught me a few things.

First of all is the length of my MN posts. Whatever I may not possess when it comes to conversation, God made up for me when it comes to the written word. The total lack of brevity when I am writing has always been my curse. And as Banky told me, so many impatient people are going to get lost even before they get to the very end of the post. I have to learn how to be as concise as possible.

She also wasn’t too happy with the amount of sarcasm in my writing or certain instances where she says I am trying too hard to be witty. Now, that was tough coming from a friend but I had to swallow it as well. MN was created out of my frustrations with stomaching too much bad entertainment from media developers who could have just tried a little bit to inject a tiny bit of creativity into their work. A lot of the terrible stuff we are continuously bombarded with stems from this laziness on their part. Sometimes the frustrations make me just let loose of the vitriol.

Then, I know I work too hard. I’ve edited and tirelessly re-edited some posts countless times before publishing thus sacrificing the very core of my literary soul for the sake of political and grammatical correctness. Some issues I have felt strongly about have gathered dust on the shelf as I try too hard in vain to remain reasonable. The ironic fact that the N.V.N.V. piece which I slaved on draws far fewer responses than the ATM gist shows me there’s something I must be missing here.

We talked for long that night - she and I - and by the time we were through I almost wanted to turn my back permanently on blogville. I am glad I didn’t.

Now I think I finally get it. We all are citizens here for a purpose. Each blogger possesses a vision and a mission and we hope to somehow reach our respective intellectual destinations (my apologies to a certain man of God). Every blog has a reason for being.

Of course, every one of us loses the rudder once in a while. It is left for us to ride the roughs, swallow the criticisms, take them to heart and improve.

Banky has somehow shown me that if I continuously hack and hack away at the system, I would be taking everything away without putting anything back in there. I now have to learn how to criticize less and constructively criticize more.

I am also learning to consult more with the Oracles of blogville, thank God for them. When I’m drifting it’s a consolation to know that Funmi will still be fiyanda, Wole will always remain laspapi, Esquire will undoubtedly still be esquire and Woomie - loyal, unpredictable, DEEP Woomie - will still be the President of the Next Generation. We all have, and are still passing through this threshold.

Reading this, one might wonder: did I take any of Banky’s corrections at all? I can’t help it. I spent years creating this writing style and I will spend years refining it. But I am learning the constitution that governs blogville.

MN will surely still be around for some more time to come. Blogville utopia may not even be around the next corner but slowly and surely, we are getting there.

My friend, T Banky is one of the Sages… Thanks, Banky for keeping it REAL!

Mama, I’d Rather Die Than Watch You Again

Film - Flashback Review - Movie

Movie: Mama I Will Die For You

Starring: Patience Ozokwor, Uche Ndigwe, Ebube Nwagbo, Amaechi Muonagor, Diewait Ikpechukwu, Clemson Cornel Nonyelu

Directed By: Ndubuisi Okoh

Released: 2004

When the issues of poor audio, clueless acting/directing and tiring, hole-filled plots in our movies are raised, Nollywood fans and fanatics alike are always quick to respond to these issues with the sing-song refrain: “It took Hollywood more than a 100 years to get there and we will get there.” When the same old long worn-out themes are continuously recycled for our enjoyment, the chorus then becomes: “Nollywood is a true reflection of our society.”

On the other side of the divide, if you can’t stand uselessly torturous Nollywood movies (like I do) then you are not alone. However, the fierce proponents of Nollywood far outnumber us, its critics and this fanatical multitude is the very reason why bad movies continue to abound.

If indeed most of the themes explored in “Mama I Will Die For You” (and Nollywood in general) are truly reflections of our society, then the mirror in question must possess a scuffed, warped surface. This, most likely, must be the same kind of optical material that may have been used to make spectacles for the entire Production crew of this movie

Mama I Will Die For You (or MIWD4U, if you like) is a 2004 movie written, produced and executively-produced by Kaycee Oguejiofor and distributed by Filmark Prod Limited in the typical Part 1 and Part 2 VCD format. The film boasts special effects by Magic Mind Studios even though there is nothing special in the effects.

The theme of MIWD4U is very simple. An adulterous mother, not only contented with cheating on her husband, meddles into her daughter’s matrimonial home by seducing her son-in-law to sleep with her. The daughter catches them in the act and reports the heinous crime to the village elders who summon the guilty parties before the local shrine. Sometime before the summons, the dejected daughter tries to commit suicide (hence the movie’s title) but her efforts are thwarted by the totally unconvincing intervention of her sister and a few neighbours. At the climax of the movie, the whole truth is revealed, retributive justice is meted out - literally - by the hands of the gods and daughter and husband reconcile.

Even if you can bring yourself to forgive the cliché storyline and the outdated below-average production values, there is just no excuse for the flaws that abound aplenty in a movie that is still in circulation four years after it was released. Sadly these flaws begin to rear their ugly heads right from the very second you put in Disc One (a.k.a. Part 1).

I claim to possess a fair amount of patience but sitting through the entire 14 minutes and 29 seconds needed to view the trailers packed into the CD even before the opening credits began to roll taxed me to the max. Mercifully, there’s always the fast-forward button on the remote of course.

Nine movie adverts later (yes, nine!) and MIWD4U kicks off with Obioma (Ebube Nwagbo) going through the motions of shopping at the village market after which she has a chance encounter with Emeka (Uche Ndigwe) on her way back. As if to make up for lost time, the movie quickly speeds through the parts where Emeka informs his parents of his interest in Obioma to the first family introductory process up till they eventually get married.

From here the annoyance begins…If only the Producer had kept up with the pre-marriage tempo, then maybe this baloney would have been over sooner. But alas! It is not to be. The movie drags horrendously as we watch Emeka drive across the entire length of the Niger Bridge, sing a honeymoon-type duet with his wife (singing seemed to be a staple with Uche Ndigwe in those days) and then in one totally irrelevant scene, we get to see Amaka (Obioma’s bush sister) twist - as opposed to dancing - to a song playing on the living room sound system. The only people who may find that scene mildly interesting are those who enjoy the sight of sweaty female bodies in scenes with excessive lighting. There’s nothing even sensually provocative in Amaka’s gyrations.

Hop, skip and jump. Mrs. Regina Nnaji as interpreted by the overly-stereotypically cast Patience Ozokwor cheats on her husband then 9 months later, Obioma drops a bundle of joy for her own husband in a totally baby-and-mother unfriendly hospital. The suitable soundtrack for this scene should have been Shaggy’s “Strength of a Woman”. The mind boggles to think what kind of hospital makes a woman in labour climb 3 flights of stairs just to get to the Maternity ward. Whoever was the Location Manager was on this particular shoot deserves to be shot for this oversight.

Another person lined up for cinematic execution should have been the costumer. After giving Obioma some blood-racing, figure hugging costumes, Nonye Ike Okechukwu defaults badly in all the others. The nurses’ uniforms are so ill-fitting as to give the entire nursing profession a bad name and Amaka’s wardrobe too is so schlocky that it would shame a village girl to put most of those things on. Worse, Regina’s seductive dressing was actually a turn-off to me.

3 days and 2 weeks later (according to the timeline), Obioma cautions her mother on her indecent dressing, the said mother convinces her lover, Chief Okenwa (Amaechi Muonagor) to present a goodwill gift to the baby and off they go for yet another love tryst gratefully bringing Disc One to an end with the closing credits rolling to a wack soundtrack with lyrics that tell the whole story.

But the punishment does not stop there. Pop in Disc 2/Part 2 and you still suffer the same 9 ads at the beginning robbing you (or saving you depending on how you see it) another 15 minutes. The movie continues where it leaves off with Obioma voicing her worry to hubby over mummy’s long disappearance. After then we zip over quickly to the village and as if to make up for keeping Diewait Ikpechukwu in the background for so long, we get to watch another totally irrelevant scene of him choking over a plate of rice (which he’s devouring hungrily by the way) while Amaka comes to his rescue with aqua vita.

Meanwhile as he sorely misses his wife who is gallivanting in the city, she (Regina) begins practicing her seduction skills on her son-in-law who rebuffs her initially then succumbs when his wife goes for a post-natal. I don’t know about you guys out there but I think the entire second seduction scene looked fake and totally avoidable. It is at this point that Obioma walks in on husband and mother and as she reports to the elders later: “I caught my husband and my mother stark naked making love…”

Really? Well, not exactly if not the NFVCB would have had issues endorsing the film in the first place. Then comes the fun part in the movie. Back-biting Chief Okenwa advices Chief Nnaji to deal with his son-in-law out of jealousy that the young guy is sharing his honey-pot but what does the weakling chief Nnaji do? Nothing! Hot blooded Regina tries another seduction scene (unsuccessfully this time) and Obioma decides to take the issue to the village shrine. How ironical it is that she makes the sign of the cross there!

After pouring her heart out to her poor audience she then makes a melodramatic attempt to hang herself only to have the suicide plot foiled by Amaka and some neighbours who don’t seem to hear the commotion in the first place only to materialize from thin air to save Obioma just in the nick of time. Another week later and in the biggest moment of cinematic stupidity, we see Obioma act out ALMOST EXACTLY the SAME SCENE ALL OVER AGAIN! The only difference is that she does it with a differrent attire this time. I couldn’t help but wish she would hang herself all over again this time around but without the neighbours’ intervention so the movie hell I was going through could come to an end.

Like I earlier mentioned, a summons is answered, retributive justice dished out by the “special effects” hand of the gods (Magic Mind should be ashamed of themselves), a confession, several flashbacks and a reconciliation later and the movie finally grinds to a halt.

Why did I take my time to put you through this horror of a plot? Simple. Perchance you happen to be in the vicinity of your neighbourhood video rental or you go visiting and you catch this movie somewhere in the middle, just do yourself a favour and RUN! After all, Life is too short to watch such N.O.N.S.E.N.S.E.

Reviewed: June 2008

The Second Apology...

My boss has his own way of punishing delinquency in the work place. If you screw up two times, he quietly calls you into his office and explains your failings to you in coloured details. Then to drive home his point, he ends the sermon with the stern warning: “There will not be a third time…”

That’s how it has been with me and MN. Yeah, I know I’m making excuses again but I’ve had to go for two very engaging business trips (to Lagos of all places, not outside the country!) and one impromptu one to Bida, Niger State forcing me to leave my laptop behind due to all the horror stories I hear of harassment by the Police or their other gun-totting nighttime alter-egos. It wasn’t easy being cut off from my darling Compaq Evo but I’m back now.

This is my second UNRESERVED apology and borrowing the words of my boss, there will NOT be a third time. Or so I hope… I realize it wasn’t too nice of me to promise to review movies and other stuff that I didn’t get around to doing and so I’ve learnt my lessons. From now on, No Promises!

Of course in my absence the business reality TV show, The Apprentice Africa was rounded up (I missed the finals thanks to PHCN) so I had to scuttle that review without really knowing who won. It really hurt not to make the review deadline I’d set for myself but maybe? Till Season 2, perhaps?

How foolish of me to try and tell the future to know which reviews I’d be doing and when. But that’s all in the past now. Here instead are some more entertaining stuff to look forward to:

Yet another reality show takes over our screens soon as the new edition of the Gulder Ultimate Search this time captioned “The Lost Chronicle” kicks off on the 19th of July and instantly ideas of Lara Croft and Indiana Jones come to mind. Let’s just hope this year’s edition is far better than the last.

The Malta Guinness Street Dance Africa competition has headed off to the Continental Finals and proves just what we’ve always known and said all along: NAIJA CAN DANCE! Those dance teams have busted some moves that gave “You Got Served” and “Stomp In The Yard” a good run for their money and I can’t wait to see them square off against their African competition.

July is the month for a new TV Quarter so expect some shake-ups in your TV programme viewing habits. And there’s still the continuous torrent of good and bad Nollywood movies as well as new music releases from the likes of Styl Plus, Sound Sultan, Six Foot Plus, etc alongside their musical videos in a few months to come. P-Square must be really dancing to the bank as their “Game Over” music videos seem to be on their way to becoming a runaway success like the audio CD did some months back.

On the hard copy front, Adesuwa Onyeokwe’s “Today’s Woman” magazine also looks to be a huge success. Spent a good part of two days trawling Lagos for a copy of TW as it is popularly called and all the vendors reported the same thing: it had all been sold out! Hear people are already booking copies in advance! Thumbs up to Adesuwa and the TW crew if what the vendors tell me is the truth. I’ll reserve my true opinions till I read a copy myself.

Then there’s the gist of my business wakas to share with you, more and more blogs to read and write, comments to be made and the earlier promised reviews are still coming back, trip or no trip. It sure looks like it’s going to be a busy month already.

But like I said before, NO PROMISES.

After all, Man proposes… and GOD controls…

No Victor, No Vanquished: Who Really Cares…?

TV - Documentary/History - The Gist

Sometime in the ‘90s…
It must have been around the holidays because I was mighty bored that day. Seeing that my elder brother (who was majoring in History at the university by that time) had left one of his textbooks around, I decided to kill time by reading about notable historical personalities.

Adolf Hitler, Mahatma Ghandi, Yassar Arafat, Winston Churchill and a couple of colourfully paged biographies later and I couldn’t help reflecting: “What the hell were some of these guys thinking? Bet I would have done that better…!”

March 2006…
Fast-forward to the first quarter of 2006, in the service of the Fatherland. 3 weeks after sharing a camp with total strangers, I was being shunted off to a tough Local Government Area that suffered from water problems but had the most picturesque scenery I’d ever seen.

After being rejected from my initial posting, I trade places with a stuttering colleague to take his teaching place in a school. Despite the rapidly dwindling student population, the shrill voices of the kindergarten kids still carries into the “staff room” as they religiously chant the names of the 36 states and capitals, thrice a day - just like medicine.

Before I gladly terminate my appointment a year later, another female colleague spots what has been bugging us concerning that recital. The kids are just mentioning 35 out of the original 36 states! The one being omitted is another issue altogether…

May 5, 2008 circa 11:00pm...
I’m lying down awake in my room closely monitoring the NTA broadcast and wishing I had enough money to pay for a cable TV subscription. Due to a certain eccentric employee of the Power Holding Corporation who runs a crazy rotational power-sharing scheme, my house only gets to receive power on alternate days. Predictably, this messes up my TV-viewing schedule when it comes to daily Reality TV. By the same time next week, I’m guaranteed to miss any great weekly TV show I happen to catch this week. Now I’ll have to add a generating set and fueling costs to that cable bill…

Eagerly anticipating that day’s episode of Star Quest (I missed the previous day’s and I’ll miss the next), I am therefore shocked when NTA starts broadcasting their post-Civil War chronicle; a series of documentaries called “No Victor, No Vanquished” which is a historical and analytical narrative of the events that led to and occurred during and immediately after the Nigerian Civil War.

Why am I bringing this all up? Well, for those of you who do not know, the Nigerian Civil War was fought from June 6, 1967 to January 13, 1970 between the Federal Republic of Nigeria soldiers and the secessionist Biafran forces (led then by General Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu) who wanted to pull out of the country to form the Republic of Biafra. Nigeria at that time was ruled by General Yakubu Gowon.

For 30 months, the war raged taking its toll on the military and civilian populace as fierce battles, air strikes, reprisal killings, community decimations and totally false political propaganda became the order of the day. The financial, moral, ethical and psychological scars as well as the many other unknown effects of that war are still present till today even though the newer generations of Nigerians have tried hard to bury the events and forget the memories.

What is my view concerning all this? Despite my semi-Eastern Nigerian origins and the tales of horror I’ve heard my parents recount, I have chosen to largely remain blissfully ignorant and never to take sides in a battle I wasn’t even around to witness. But every once in a while, whenever sectional violence breaks out across the ethnic divides of my dearly beloved country the deeply lodged animosities boil up again to the surface to confront the ideals of ye leaders past of older generations who strove hard to ensure that Nigeria remained one at all costs.

The younger generation, who by now mostly embrace the notions of intermarriage, are immediately faced with tough and confusing challenges as one’s wife, lover and friend suddenly attains the enemy status just because a tiny group of people many hundreds of kilometers clash with an equally tiny group of herdsmen over cattle grazing rights.

Or aspiring lawyers, mechanics, doctors, businessmen, seamstresses, car washers, area boys and prostitutes each hustling in equal measure for their daily bread, lay down their lives all for the noble cause of a young man who chooses to defecate in a rival’s uncompleted building or a young sixteen year old swollen with the passions of her first true love and the first stages of gestation for a misguided Youth Corp member serving in her school.

The things that have continued to spark off the raw tinder of the fires of our national divide have even lesser values than these cited examples and once in a while a movie is screened, a book published or TV documentary broadcast each portraying the events of the past through the eyes of its intellectual creator while carrying an underlying message that this evil should not visit our doorsteps again. But are these lessons in history really necessary? After all, are we really listening?

NTA’s “No Victor, No Vanquished” will not be the needed balm for soothing these long-hidden wounds nor will it be the panacea to the millions of people who lost friends, neighbours, siblings and relations and whose collective destinies changed with the drop of an exploded shell. For while critically watching it(as opposed to casual viewing), I only find a programme which will give the older generation a new cause to cast fresh accusing fingers over debatably outdated facts and also give the new generation an even bigger reason to feel disdain and disconnect from the labours of our leaders past.

Caught up in the web of wide-spread economic devastation brought about by some of these precedent hallowed, halo-clad despots, inspired by the glamour-filled lifestyles and quick wealth of the nouveau riche and bombarded by the peer- and parental pressure-filled mandatory success guidelines of top-notch jobs, fat salaries, fast cars, duplex accommodation, work-hard-play-even harder life standards and the obligatory multiple sex partners all acquired before the ideal age of 24, many a Nigerian youth is not interested in watching old men trade blames over who caused a war that may or may not have brought about all these problems in the first place.

Instead, we are watching Star Quest and hoping to be instant musical stars. We are watching The Apprentice Africa and hoping that through hook or crook, we just might be Mr. Shobanjo’s apprentices. We are glued literarily to AMBO and The Next Movie Star and hoping to break into the sleazy lifestyle of our dear Nollywoodians or we are reading about their crazy scandals in the soft sell magazines. We have lost our senses and buried our attention in following old Mexican soaps with more twists and turns in their plots than the Onitsha-Owerri road.

Don’t blame us. In our usual way of passing the buck, maybe part of the blame should go to the national education system. Let’s blame the schools who are now so good at brainwashing and indoctrination that our children are now shunning Physical and Health Education and the playground to go for junk food during break time. My niece’s boarding school in a quest for Religious neutrality recently decided to conduct joint Worship services instead of allowing the kids go to their individual churches. And in kindergarten, the letter ‘Y” doesn’t stand for Yam anymore. That’s so uncool. It now stands for Yacht… Or maybe Yahoozee!

That fresh generation will never know the black and white Television or any electrical device for that matter that has no remote control. Many will never see a turntable, a spin dial telephone, VHS tapes or a dugout canoe. Many have never been taken to museums by their over-worked, over-stressed parents whose notion of a family get-together is plunking down their kids in the latest fast-food outlet that probably has a bouncy castle. And many will never care to know or be taught about the Nigerian Civil War or its repercussions.

When a school chooses to teach her kindergarten kids just 35 out of the 36 states in Nigeria, then we can now say: Congratulations! What do we care about history? After all, Social Studies is now truly and totally dead.

As for me, I do not still know Nigeria well enough and so I must search for more. While continuously doing my research and even prior to writing this piece I still find that the debate over who was right and who was wrong and who did what still rages on till now, 38 years after. You can gather all the information you want, my dear generation, and hear all the horror stories your parents will tell but the truth is that we were not there when it happened. Whatsoever you will hear, read or view will depend on the perspective of your sources. And in wars, the greatest casualties are women, children and common sense.

They claim there was No Victor, No Vanquished. The choice of what to believe is YOURS…

The Twelfth Commandment

All Media - Advertising - The Gist

No, it’s not what you think. The title of this post isn’t the title of a movie I’m reviewing. It isn’t an album either neither is it a documentary. It’s just an experience I’ve gone through recently that I thought I should share with you.

Do you know those automatic cash dispensers better known as ATMs (Automated/Automatic Teller Machines)? When they were introduced into the Nigerian financial scene by the banking sector I was one of the few people that danced madly in joy over the news. The reason for this was clear. In my line of thinking, ATMs meant PC Networking, Networking meant Computers and Computers meant Civilization. Hurray! Digital Civilization had come to Nigeria!

I remember waiting earnestly for my bank to issue me with the cherished plastic. After years of running a paper-based account I was finally going to say good riddance to the things of old and move up to the swipe-and-pay. No more torn bank books for me or having to sign twice behind the slip after waiting 30 minutes for the female cashier to freshen her make-up or the male one to stop chatting up the girl ahead of me in the queue.

And so one day it was my turn to be issued with plastic cash. My happiness knew no bounds. I wasn’t swayed by the fact that it wasn’t exactly a license for uncontrolled spending (a.k.a. a credit card) or that a few days ago, I’d read an article in a national newspaper captioned: “Beware of the Automated Thieving Machine”. Not even the mandatory 2-day wait for my account to fully migrate to digitaldom or the 105 Naira ATM charge deducted at my first withdrawal was going to dampen my enthusiasm. I had unshakeable faith in digital power!

“Wetin concern Media Nemesis with ATM?” you might ask. Well maybe it’s the media content developer in me. Deep in my mind every time I approach the automated money-doler, I can’t help but wonder how much underutilized these machines are in reaching out to people. All the ATMs I know just play annoyingly short and rubbishy repetitive snippets of classical music which a digital voice tells you to wait for your transaction. And the screens mostly deliver adverts tailored only towards the deploying financial institution offering you crazy loan schemes.

Now I’ll need your help here. I want you to close your eyes and imagine…

Imagine if the FIRST TIME you heard bits of Sasha’s “Adara”, 9ice’s “Gongo Aso” or P-Square’s “Do Me” was on an ATM machine! I can imagine the conversation going something like this:

A: Have you heard the latest?

B: No! Wetin dey?

A: Ah! You too slack oh! P-Square now have a new hit track out!

B: Oh yeah? Where you hear am? Which radio station?

A: Radio ke? Have you been to XYZ Bank lately?

B: No! When I no get money? Abi you pay inside my account?

A: Pay wetin? Abeg check out their ATM jo! Even if you just go there and pretend to do an Account Inquiry, you’ll hear all the latest tracks pumping out from the speakers. I even heard D-Banj’s latest CD there too. And there’s Ruggedman, Konga, Weird MC, Sammy Okposo, BOUQUI, even the latest boys from Aba…

B: Eh! Abeg I dey go there now-now Make e no be say na me be the last to hear am.

Yeah, I know the idea might even sound lame but how would we know the efficacy of it if we never try it out anyway? CD releases, Nollywood movie trailers and screenings times, shows and events, indeed everything entertainingly gratifying could turn out to be fodder for this advertising cannon. Still imagining, just reflect on the even more numbers of customers they might reach if the telecom companies partner with banks to lease some ATM screen space to advertise their promos.

It’s not just the telecoms either. Imagine if Bank PHB gave us all the updates on The Apprentice Africa via their ATM screens and printed out the viewing times along with your financial details on the ATM receipt? Imagine if Skye Bank had printed out special complimentary Celebrity Takes 2 tickets for customers who use the ATM a certain number of times? Or if UBA had dome the same thing for the 2008 AMMAs? It’s a well worn cliché but if media marketers had just a little bit of imagination to utilize the numerous ATMs around instead of scrambling to erect massive bridge-like billboards, the possibilities would just start becoming endless.

Of course, typical with the Nigerian-faddish way of thinking, the possibilities of abuse would be endless too.

One can equally imagine the resulting cacophony that would result from the simple act of turning an ATM into a jukebox as neighboring banks would jostle not just for our accounts but our auditory senses as well. The issue of copyright infringement would also rear its ugly head in the hallowed halls of banking as greedy marketers no doubt would eagerly sign up to sell the same content to competing banks without any resultant remuneration to the artistes themselves. And which octogenarian would want to have his/her slowly failing hearing damaged more by “Do Me” blaring from a machine that’s already tough enough to manipulate as it is?

And if the marketers were given domain over the ATM screen then it would become an advertising Armageddon even worse than what we get when watching TV soaps. We’d be made to spend more and more time waiting for our transactions as we are bombarded with commercials for soaps, toothpaste, churches, cigarettes, condoms, furniture, milk, sweets, and yes, the banks too. The advert glut and the resulting chaos from it might be enough to even make you hunger once more for the days of paper…

My reverie is over. Much as the ATM symbolizes a movement towards the digital future for Nigeria I think I’d rather leave them as they are for now. ATM-based marketing can further enhance the entertainment experience if well handled but when last did we ever handle anything right?

Now going back to the title of this post, I assume everyone knows the 11th Commandment, right? (In case you didn’t it is this: Thou shall not get caught.) Well, recently, I was FLAT BROKE but that wasn’t enough to shake me like in the past. After calmly strolling to my friendly neighbourhood ATM in my friendly neighbourhood UBA premises, I slotted in the plastic key to my account and dutifully followed all the instructions on the screen. Of course, the amount was also dutifully deducted from my account and the card dutifully popped out…WITHOUT THE MONEY!!!

Not believing what I was seeing, I decided to take up the case with Customer Care. Unfortunately, the guards who must have heard all the ATM tales of woe dutifully and politely blocked the door (it was almost 6pm) and told me the problem would resolve itself within 48 hours.

48 hours?!? Now I was mad! Having nothing more on me than a damaged N20 note and none of my pride, I first tried to bluff, then seeing that wouldn’t work, I put on my best British aristocrat mannerism and politely asked the guards for a tiny N20 loan to find my way home. The guards in question must have heard those lines several times too because they both politely shook their heads: NO.

I was too weak to even drop the Briton routine and switch back to my Agbero one. To cut the long story short, a young Police dude who’d suffered the same ATM dupery saved the situation by lending me the said amount without even wanting to know if he’d ever see me again. Now I can’t really say bad things about the Police anymore.

For someone like me who likes to throw money around when people ask for my help, it sure humbled me how desperate one can go for just N20. And yes, the money did revert back to the card within the 48 hours as promised.

What lessons have I learnt from this? You just might consider taking your bank book along ‘cause you just might not know when that ATM will disappoint you. And I have learnt the Twelfth Commandment: THOU SHALL NEVER TRUST AN ATM…

PS: In case the whole idea of ATM marketing fully kicks off in Nigeria and becomes a money spinner for advert companies and media execs, just remember: I said it first!

Woomie's Comments

At June 10, 2008 3:00 PM, Woomie O! commenting on my blog wrote:

4NE, i have been embittered by the TV content for our young children. Their brains haven't formed well as a result of what they see on TV.
I say this because a great part of the things i know today, i learnt on TV as a child (you will agree with me). Now, when i tune to local TV stations, I don't see the Sesame Street, Barney, Sarafina and other educative Sci-Fi cartoons I saw as a child, instead, these stations 'hammer' our children's brains with Johnny Bravo, Animaniacs, Pinky & the Brain, Cow & Chicken, I am Weasel etc etc.
I try not to let my neices watch too much of these things, they learn ablsolutely NOTHING postive from them...truth is, they don't even understand any message (if any) behind these cartoons.
I look at these kids and I want to cry...I am embarassed by what this new generation do with their spare time.
911!!!
our loval TV stations are brain-draining our average Nigerian Kids.
Somebody should ask the Bruces of Silverbird TV, John Momoh of Channels TV, Tinubu (or whoever is in charge) of LTV and the now-reduced-to-mediocres of NTA network, if it is what they watched as kids on Nigerian TV stations that they have reproduced and are presenting to our kids...If these things didn't work for them then, what makes them think they will work for our own kids (and their own too) now?
Did the defunct ClapperBoard and the old NTA network emmigrants leave with the tapes???

4NE's Reply : Well said! There's NOTHING more for me to add... For those of you who don't know, Woomie is a very intelligent young female and I'm not just fronting. Check out her blog here

Inform, Educate and Entertain… And VOLTRON

TV - Flashback - The Gist

Turn your TV to the NTA every morning and it’s a mantra you are bound to catch at least one of the A.M. Express presenters reciting as they flood into your living rooms or wherever your TV set is kept. The flooding this time is pleasant. Believe it or not, you don’t have to cringe every time you see the words “Nigerian Television Authority” on the glowing end of the TV tube. Even a mediocre has to excel once in a while.

OK, I digress… back to the issue at hand...

I love Television, no two ways about it, but for some years now, our relationship has started becoming shaky as I begin to seriously doubt the authenticity of its mandate. Is Television keeping true to that Inform, Educate and Entertain (I.E.E.) Broadcast Creed we swore to on that day when I told her “I do”?

Yes, watching the TV can be very entertaining at times, and if you bother to watch the increasingly socialized social diary called the News you just might get a nugget of information here and there but as for getting an education, I’ve been very skeptical if the idiot box dishes out much in that line.

Fact is, the only set of people who got any proper sort of education from TV were those who were lucky enough to watch programmes like “3-2-1 Contact” and “Sesame Street” in the hey days of B & W programming or even the early episodes of NTA’s “Tales By Moonlight” (as a kid then I used to love any story that featured animals. I felt I must be very smart because I realized early that animals didn’t talk so it must be humans in those costumes! I digress yet again…).

What fun it was in those glorious days of watching “Voltron” and longing to possess the gymnastic skills of Pidge, or Lance’ suave looks or Keith’s leadership abilities or marrying the Princess Allura for that matter. We flew across the skies in their aerodynamically-challenged space vehicles and our fantasies were limitless for even when the black-and-white screen failed us, we filled in the colours with our vivid imaginations. Television taught us how to D.R.E.A.M.

In those days Science was a daily discovery and you could master the rudiments of killer courses like Mathematics or all the tongue-tying complexities of Oral English straight off the TV set. Television programme schedulers were always all too conscious of the slightest details of the school calendar and would arrange programmes accordingly to sooth the tastes of their young audiences during holidays.

Those days are long gone. The youth of nowadays simply have no imagination.

I was therefore pleased when I spotted a tiny glimmer of hope for this generation. From amidst the Babel that is daily programming we occasionally catch a little ray of insight as it shines out to Inform, Educate and Entertain us. Take for instance, A.M. Express, Wednesday the 4th of June. A doctor comes on-air from the Benin Network centre some time around 6:40 am to Educate us on Infertility. Now that’s an important subject so I put a hold on my breakfast preparations to watch.

What really grabs my attention is his definition of infertility which I will try to reproduce as well as I can. In his own words (all the emphasis are mine):

“… Infertility is medically described as the inability of a couple to conceive after participating in active coitus, that is full sexual exposure, for a period of one year”.

(And here I am thinking, slowly chewing on a slice of bread: what does this guy mean by “full sexual exposure”? He isn’t talking of photography, is he? Or radiography, for that matter.)

And he continues:

“…It is medically agreed that the normal frequency of full sexual exposure for a couple in that one-year duration should be at least three exposures in a week...”

Three exposures a week! My hackles immediately rise, I don’t know why. Okay… Cool down. Quickly discarding breakfast to do the math I come up with this:

3 full sexual exposures a week (medically agreed) x 52 (chronologically agreed) weeks in a year = 156 full exposures! For those of you that don’t get this, that means you have 156 chances to get Junior.

Now isn’t that Education? I won’t vouch for the authenticity of this M.D.’s statements neither will I swear by all things terrible that his quoted sources for the “medically agreed” definition are accurate. The only thing I can be sure of is to say I was well and truly E.D.U.C.A.T.E.D.

PERIOD…

So all you lovebirds out there trying for a shot at replicating handy toy-sized copies of yourselves, here’s some very good advice: If after 156 full sexual exposures successfully carried out within a duration of 366 days and the female in the equation isn’t throwing up in the mornings and getting a belly that you can’t attribute to excessive drinking of alcoholic beverages, then YOU BOTH NEED TO GET YOURSELVES CHECKED by a doctor who specializes in full sexual exposures. A pity they never scrolled the Doc’s name onscreen so I can’t help all you desperate peoples with that vital piece of info.

As for all them people who always strive to break all the records in the Guinness Book of Full Exposures, I have nothing (yet) to say to you. And if you find you aren’t batting at the A.M. Express endorsed average of 156, then what the hell are you waiting for?

Breakfast temporarily forgotten, I take a stroll through my cerebral garden, rocking on my mental rocking chair, smoking an intellectual pipe and reflecting on all these. (Would Keith have been too busy defending the Planet Arus from Hagar’s Robeasts to worry about giving Princess Allura her due 156 full exposures whenever he’d eventually get to marry her? How innocent Black & White TV romance can be.)

Yeah, I miss the Glory Days of Television. I do miss Voltron.

PS: Yes, I’m still trying to work on my TAA review titled “And Then There Were Three…” but the devil seems to be in the works. I’m thinking of re-editing it for posting it later this week tentatively re-titled as “And Then There Were Two…”

Stay posted!

Commenting on the Comments...(PS: Help! An I.D.I.O.T. Is Spamming Me!)

Online - Blogs - Comments

I can hear them gasping! There, I've done it. I have shed the cloak of objectivity and brought the battle to their doorstep. I have challenged them and I know they are going to post Comments.

It isn't easy to do but I believe I've done the viewing public a wee bit of favour with my recent posts. But many of them will never thank me for this. It takes quite a struggle to shift my neutrality but it's been done. So someone special (you know yourself...) told me I sound too formal! Ok... from now on, the perspective has changed.

To that someone, I think now is as good a time to defend myself. I ain't too formal I think. Just that reviewing can be such a tiring process most times especially when trying to sound as neutral as possible, even when the particular reviewed piece in question is crap. Just how objective can you be when describing the beauty of an orangutan?

And so I turn to formal speech to mask my disappointment. People who have seen me cuss in public (after wasting hours of my short life watching a crapy movie for instance) can attest to the fact. But it doesn't happen too often. And this objectivity thing dey tire me more nowadays...

As I go through all the Comments that have been sent to my blog, I am humbled. I'm still stumbling. I can only say Thank you to all of you for bothering to drop by... and read.

Except of course for that I.D.I.O.T...
When I joined Blogspot.com, one thing I didn't count on was for spammers trying to use the Comments field of my blog to spread their filthy pop-up advert links. Sorry, I'm too smart for that. Comment moderation is a blessing to any serious blogger.

Next time someone sends me a shopping link or one of those foolish online lottery links with an heading like "I love this blog's topic. It seems you have a strong personality, etc, etc" disguised as a Comment, I'll calmly delete them as usual.

Then I'll calmly walk over to you, politely tap you on the shoulder and personally kick your online ass... HARD!

Showing On A TV Near You: The Ten Dumbest Things

TV - Observation - The Gist

It has happened to virtually every one of us…

You sit down and turn on the TV. After watching in amazement for a few minutes you can’t help but to wonder how much dumb programming manages to slip through all the broadcasting barriers of programme conception, creation, marketing, censorship and transmission to land on your idiot box.

Yeah, I know. I’ve been there too. So here I am watching and thinking: why am I watching this? And what can I do about it? Rather than spend the next few hours of your short lives watching DUMB TV, here are some things you just might want to consider steering clear of.

Several warnings though before you read this:

a. The term “dumb” means: incapable of speech, silent, lacking intelligence (in other words, stupid), taciturn, etc and can even be used as a term of endearment akin to dum dum, dummy, etc where the person being so affectionately addressed does not fully grasp the subject in question. (If you didn’t get the above definition, then you are well…dumb)

b. Sequel to the last section of above definition, some of the programmes listed here aren’t totally dumb themselves but do contain Elements of Dumbness.

c. I’m going to step on a few toes. Not everybody reading this is going to like it.

d. Drawing up a list of the Top Ten Dumbest Things on TV is probably a dumb thing to do. You’d be shocked just how much of the stuff there is out there!

f. And in case you don’t figure it out, the rankings go from 10 (Dumb) to 5 (Dumber) and up till 1 (Dumbest).

OK, (Drum roll)… Let’s BEGIN!

10. Ultimate Soccer Experience: Anchored by Mike Maiyaki, one of the greatest sports analysts alive, there is actually nothing dumb about this great sports programme apart from the half-screen format used during sports analysis. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why the producer insists on squeezing the visuals into just the right half of the screen. What’s up with the left side? If there was some sort of marketing or sports info scrolling there, it might probably make some sense but as it is, this is just so dumb, dumb, dumb.

9. Moments with Mo: Yet another talk show but this one has got CLASS. Check out the avalanche of sponsors and you’ll be left drooling if you are a media marketer. But if you’re a member of that audience you must be dumb! Why? Because THE AUDIENCE IS CUED! Cueing an audience is as fake to Nigerians as canned laughter and occasionally on this show, the fakeness shows way, way too wide. Case in point: the episode that featured John Fashanu and Nkechi Okocha. Someone must have given the wrong cue signal because when John Fashanu was describing the ankle injury that put him out of professional football for good, SOME MEMBERS OF THE AUDIENCE ACTUALLY APPLAUDED!
Hello??? The right cue card was supposed to say: GASP!!!
And don’t rejoice either if you catch Modenine on this week’s episode. It was most likely recorded last year (Copyright 2007 Inspire Africa, if you catch my drift…)

8. Morning Ride: Showing live on the NTA every Sunday morning circa 1000 hours, this Becky Madojemu - produced programme suffers from just one great big mishap: it is full of broadcast transmission glitches. The presentation is OK and the guests typical of any breakfast show but an evil sprite seems to be tweaking with the transmission knobs. It isn’t uncommon to have several cuts during a single broadcast forcing someone on the editing deck to keep a stack of ad inserts handy for such moments. For a programme that has been around since 1988, not having sorted out its transmission issues till now is just plain... dumb!

7. The New Onga Advert: Yes, the new one featuring Kate Henshaw-Nuttal. I love the chick to pieces but I just don’t get what she and her “daughter” are yapping about in that ad about cooking and not forgetting tradition. Given the foreign trip and the hype that preceded the shooting of that ad, I’m sorely disappointed. Someone must have fallen asleep somewhere during the production process, but it definitely wasn’t Kate.

6. Quizline: It’s a BIG waste of talent really. Three (in my opinion) very good TV personalities trapped almost every day in a programme where they talk mostly to themselves for all of 50 minutes while playing sometimes crazy music and giving away money to people equally dumb enough to phone in. Here’s a secret you didn’t know: Guess what? The odds are stacked against you wining anything substantial or else how do you think Akin would have been able to maintain his dreadlocked hairstyle? Or Omowumi, her eye shadow? 3 o’clock can be a very boring time on TV. And yes… I was dumb enough to try phoning in too.

5. National Sports Lottery: Ify might have gotten popular on Big Brother Nigeria but she must be really determined to lose that popularity fast. I’ve tried not to help it but watching her host the NSL show is nothing short of irritating. And her shrill voice, funny wardrobe, non-flowing lines, the civil servant/bus driver-type audience and the occasionally odd co-hosts aren’t helping matters. Check out the SA versions of TV Lottery. At least the witty hosts do look like they are enjoying what they’re doing. In line with the NSL slogan of “Levels go change”, her levels are changing alright… for the worse!

4. The Guinness Football Battle Advert: As a follow-up to their Udeme campaign, the guys of the Brown (or is it Black?) Bottle decided to go for a football-battle style ad where two opposing teams work together to retrieve a football from a runaway truck. Simple. The ad is nice and even funny in some parts but why, oh why, is the truck driver sleeping? Check out that portion of the ad just before he looks into the rear view mirror and sees the chasing crowd and you’ll see his eyes are FIRMLY closed for a couple of seconds or so. Naughty, naughty! FRSC ought to hear of this. On another note, the FULL ad shows the two teams’ henchmen opening their bottle caps against each other’s bottles. The fact that the National Association for Food and Beverages (a body to which the Brewery Bottle Boys belong) launched a campaign seriously kicking against such means of bottle defacement meant that part of the ad had to be edited out. D. U. M. B.

3. The Presidential Media Chat: ‘Nuff Respeck’ to Mr. President, Ijeoma of Thisday, Reuben Abati of The Guardian and all the others that graced the May 27 edition of the Presidential Media Chat. At least the journalistic panel wasn’t as patronizing as their predecessors of the Obasanjo era and they did throw some barbs at Oga Nigeria (the most recurring adjective was slow-coach). But what did we learn from the hour-long Question and Answer programme? NOTHING… Same old story 9 years later. Different presidents, same robes.

2. Some Reality TV Shows: Remember “House 4”, that Big Brother wannabe? It was dumb. Remember “Angels”, the Reality show where some so-called Angels showcased “African” traditions and values in the bush while referring to the show’s mystery voice as “My Ancestor”? It was dumber. Watched several episodes of it and couldn’t figure out what these “angels” were actually supposed to do apart from gossip around a tree clad in wrappers. Now they say they want to do Season 2. That sure takes the cake for dumbness…

1. The Yo Yo Bitters Advert: The third advert to make the dumb lineup and winner of the Dumb and Dumberer Awards, this ad is probably half of the reason why Morning Ride made the line-up in the first place. Sponsors of the Health Monitor segment, the poorly produced ad with a wack soundtrack highlights the miracles of the wonder drug as seen from the eyes of a “healthy” man who now no longer suffers stress and “is now useful in bed”. Whoever the man is, he must be confused about the sexes of his children because he goes ahead to refer to the boy and girl as “Junior and her sister”.
His wife too must be given credit for increasing his bed usefulness seeing that she wakes up from bed with an unattractive nightgown and FULL makeup on! She then “catches” him taking the said Bitters which was openly “hidden” in the fridge (remember Junior and her sister have been taking the drug obviously without the knowledge of their mother). But wait a minute! Wasn’t she the one who put it on the dining table sometime earlier in the advert? Confusing, weird… and TOTALLY DUMB!!!

PS: Now that I’ve done this, I can’t wait to begin List 2. Nominees, anyone?

Watch out for more dumbness…