One year on: Back from Canada, Loving Almodovar and Adichie, thinking of human rights & a silly restriction

Back in the UK now. The last three weeks have been exhausting, exhilaring and invigorating all at the same time. Great training time and now I feel ready to take on whatever challenges the future holds at work- great feeling. I'm desperately hanging on to that feeling as I go through the nearly two hundred e mails that were waiting at work. I used to look at people at work talking about how many e mails they had to work through as rather sad- a kind of "My e mails are greater than yours" kind of thing- but now I find myself indulging......

I kind of liked Canada- the bits I saw- it seems to have its heart in the right place- the people are generally warm and friendly in a way that I liked and appreciated and I fell in love with their governor general- the Rt Hon Michaelle Jean http://www.gg.ca/gg/index_e.asp after watching her on television- the petite Haitian-Canadian who only came to Canada in 1968- is an impressive asset. I don't think that she could attain a similar position anywhere else in the world.....

Monday went to see the new Almodovar film Volver (Return) starring Penelope Cruz and Carmen Maura. It's an amazing film rich in visuals, vibrant colour, humour and textures plus a quirky, subversive plot- all the hallmarks of an Almodovar film. I still can't believe that I had never even heard of Almodovar before I moved here. It was only thanks to a Mexican classmate that I went to see Talk to Her (Habla con Ella) when it came out a few years ago and then I got hooked. There is this one scene where Cruz is chopping red peppers and as you watch the shot of the grey blade of the knife biting again and again into the redness of the peppers, you can almost hear and feel the crunch. In another scene Cruz is washing up at a sink and there is this amazing shot from above framing her cleavage and the sink with the water running and swirling.......I'm no film sophisticate but Almodovar's films resound with the very essence of Spain- a country I'm growing to love more with each visit.....

I've just finished Half of a Yellow Sun- Chimamanda Adichie's new work and it is stunning - the broad canvas, the sweep of the characters, her exposition of a time and place- Biafra- that Nigeria and Nigerians have never properly exorcised are all remarkable. Now I understand why the phrase Dickensian keeps recurring in the critics reviews of the book. It's an amazing achievement- and quite different from Purple Hibiscus. I was initially skeptical looking at the heft of the book that it could keep me engaged but I was engrossed from page one to the very end.

I've also recently finished Geoffrey Robertson's Crimes Against Humanity: the Struggle for Global Justice- the tome written by one of the UK's foremost human rights lawyers-though dense and legalistic in areas was an illuminating and inspiring exploration of the evolution of internatonal human rights law. He is scathing on the African Human Rights Charter and I can only hope that in the 7 years since the book was published the new African Union has taken a new look at the charter in the spirit of the "African Renaissance"

On the flight back from Canada, no duty free shopping as far as spirits or perfumes was allowed- it seemed slightly silly that while the bottles were clearly visible on the trolley that the stewardesses pushed through the aisles, passengers were forbidden to buy in the spirit of the ban on liquids.....

Oh by the way, just realized it was the first anniversary of this blog six days ago. To everyone who's dropped by- Thank you

Crab cookouts and musing on African hippies

Yesterday we were invited to a crab cook out by one of the local staff here. I was not quite sure what to expect but it turned out to be something like a barbecue except that instead of meat being barbecued, it was crabs being cooked and served with melted butter. I'm not sure that the crabmeat, delectable though it was was worth all the work needed to crack the shell and the claws to get at the morsels....I did enjoy the salads though

After the crab cook out, we drove out to visit what would probably have been described as a hippy commune in the 70s, but is now probably referred to as a sustainable community- ecologically sound, environmentally friendly and awash with dreadlocked and multiply pierced surfer and alternative types. It struck me on our way back having enjoyed the organic smoothies and bran muffins that were on offer that I had never seen a hippy of African/black origin. Raising this in the car, my English colleague offered that it's because the whole hippy-surfer-alternative lifestyle is a specific rebellion against affluence. I wondered about this on the journey home- I mean I have African friends who lead what would be regarded as alternative lifestyles but their ethos is significantly different.....

The homeward journey begins tomorrow as we head to Toronto.....

Thinking of "home", thoughts of Canada and reading Upstate

Yet another snatched opportunity to blog. We are slowly coming to the end of our training and I honestly cannot wait to get back home to London- the concept of London as home is one I still struggle with...but as the youth here so eloquently put it- whatever!

Canada is a funny mix, a halfway blend between the US and the UK- it's evident in the language and the architecture and the food- fish and chips, that quintessential English dish can be found on just about any menu here, but then so can barbecued ribs and burgers and other solid American fare. Some parts of Toronto with their towering skyscrapers and perfectly laid grid street systems draw manhattan to mind and yet others with their red brick Victorian neighbourhoods leave you wondering whether you are in an English village. The Canadians are friendly- much friendlier than the reserved English, but not the over the top sickly sweet friendliness of their cousins to the South..... I could go on and on. Another thing I don't understand is why Canada is seemingly unknown/uncovered in the international media. I mean before arriving here three weeks ago, I did not know who the Canadian prime minister was... and I don't regard myself as poorly informed. But maybe I am!

One similarity between the Canada and the US is in the toilets- I've never understood why American (and now Canadian) toilet bowls have water levels coming up almost halfway to the top, as opposed to the UK and Nigeria, where the water is way down in the bottom of the pan. Is it part of the abundance of North America- they can afford to fill up their pans just that bit more?

I have just finished Kalisha Buckannon's excellent novel -Upstate- which tracks through a series of letters, the love story between two African-American teenagers in Harlem. I was sceptical at first, wary of what I felt would be sickly sweet sentimentalism, but it was a tightly written powerful insight into the lives of young urban African Americans in contemporary America. It had echoes of Random Family, Nicole LeBlanc's deep and moving account of the ten years she spent following the lives of a number of Latina women in New York.

Another snatched chance to blog, worrying about inflight entertainment and musing on liquid soap

Finally managed to get a few minutes off what is a punishing schedule to drop a few lines here. We're just outside of Toronto where the International AIDS conference is going on at the moment and each time I go into Toronto, I see lots of conference delegates wandering around. I've spotted quite a few Nigerians as well...no surprise there. The newspapers and television are filled with stories about the conference.

I hear you are only allowed one book on board UK flights and that has to be bought from duty free after you have checked in everything else. I'm frantically trying to work out which fat book I've been dying to read to take with me on the flight back in two weeks. the prospect of an eight hour flight with Air Canada's abysmal in-flight entertainment sends shivers down my spine. I can just see myself exploding in a rage of boredom induced air rage

In the hotel where we're staying instead of soap and little bottles of shampoo etc, there's a plastic dispenser on the wall with nozzles for shampoo, conditioner and liquid soap. I still can't get my head around the concept of liquid soaps and shower gels- I like the comforting heft of a cake of soap in my hand- perhaps a carryover from when I was a child and not allowed to bath myself - I remember the first time I was allowed to hold the soap myself- maybe that's why I miss my solid soap now...

I see there has been another murder of a governorship aspirant in Nigeria- I hope this is not what 2007 is going to look like..... and all the IBB EFCC shenanigans- what on earth is that about?

Ok, break over, back to work now...

A snatched chance to blog, terror and current reading

Finally, a snatched chance to blog in between what have been a very hectic few days. I arrived in canada and plunged straight into work. Hectic days, but very interesting. On the plane I read Marie Fatayi-Williams' tribute to her son, For the Love of Anthony and at many points found myself close to tears, I think the girl in the next seat must have noticed and so asked to see what I was reading. It's not fantastic writing, but in some ways, it is the homespun heartfelt nature of it that is it's greatest strength. In the book, she is particularly critical of the UK Police and the Government in their dealings with the families of the deceased and queried whether the government was doing enough to prevent a recurrence. By the way, fellow Nigerian blogger Molara Wood is quoted in the book, even if incorrectly she is referred to as Molara Woods.

This morning, I wake up to the news that the UK is at high alert following a discovered terrorist plot to blow up planes to the UK. To think that only yesterday I was strolling through Heathrow, dashing to reach the baggage drop off before it closed. I had already checked in online- but one of the problems with checking in online, is that it induces a sense of complacency- I found myself dashing to get to the airport on time, having dilly-dallied on a number of issues. At this time, the details of the suspected plot are unclear but if it is true that there were British Asian Muslims behind the plot, then I can't help but reflect on how they might be making things more difficult for the people whose cause they claim to be espousing. Only last week, the most senior Muslim police officer in the UK police said that the way in which the police were implementing anti-terror laws risked alienating young British Muslims. His comments provoked a flurry of debate, with some arguing that the police were only doing what they had to do, and if anyone was "collateral damage", then tough. If these allegations turn out to be true, then it will appear as if these hardliners have been vindicated....

Joe Lieberman has lost the Democratic nomination for the US Senate after receiving the "kiss of death" from George Bush. Apparently at the last state of the union address, as Dubya made his way out of the congress, he planted a kiss on Liebermann's cheek. Liebermann has paid dearly for "sleeping with the enemy" as Democratic activists upset by his closeness to Dubya's policies,especially his support for the Iraq war helped ensure that he was not renominated for the seat that he has held in the Senate for many years. It is suggested that he might run as an independent. Is the Democratic lion finally waking up from its slumber?

I'm currently reading Claire Tiffany's Everyman's Rules for Scientific Living which was nominated for the Orange Prize but lost to On Beauty. It's a gem of a book, the simple humour-inflected anguage evoking a different time and place is completely charming. Highly recommended!

Finally I note that Chimamanda Adichie's new book Half of a Yellow Sun is to be launched in London next Wednesday. I wish I could be there, but will be stuck here in Canada....

Last day at work and meeting visiting old friends

It's my last day at work for three weeks and I'm struggling to clear my desk. I'll be off to Canada on a training course and as I suspect I'll be very busy, I'll try to keep blogging but I suspect my blogging may be intermittent. We'll see....

An interesting weekend largely filled with visiting and meeting up with the various friends and relatives visiting from Nigeria in the usual summer holiday onslaught. thankfully this time, I haven't actually had to play host to any, but just getting around, catching up with everyone is quite a feat. It's a strange feeling, dashing half way across London to meet some old classmate or friend and their families, and then struggling to make the most of the couple of hours you have together before dashing off to the next rendezvous. How do you compress the events of the last two years into a hurriedly snatched hour, interspersed with buying rounds and pub lunches, with many of the visitors raring to get on with the shopping that is the high point of the London holidays for many of them.

Forget Trafalgar Square, forget the museums and galleries, forget the tourist attractions of London, for many of my friends visiting from Nigeria- Jermyn Street, Oxford Street , Liverpool Street and Finsbury Park markets are where it's at....

As I walk home on Sunday night to meet a pulsating rooftop party on one of the houses on my street, I reflect on how much I and my friends have changed, and how much we've stayed the same.......

Appreciating Okonjo-Iweala's achievements

Now that the news of Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala resigning (or Okonjo-Wahala, as she half-jokingly referred to herself in an interview with the UK Guardian this week) http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,3604,1540043,00.html from the Nigerian cabinet has been confirmed, I think it's important to note her many achievements which are detailed in the Guardian interview. It is very sad that someone who had sacrificed so much and who had contributed so much could be discarded in the shoddy way that she has been. Obasanjo is obviously sending a clear message to Nigerian professionals abroad- come back home and contribute what expertise you can so we can use and dump you.

In some ways I'd seen Dr Okonjo-Iweala as a role model- she had travelled abroad for higher education, attained a position where she was INVITED home to Nigeria to contribute, and because she had been invited and was confident of her competence; and because she had not lobbied anyone for the job, she was able to go into office and take tough decisions and produce results. In 2003, the Nigerian rumour mills were agog with the story that she had resigned her job after President Obasanjo had reneged on their original agreement to put debt management firmly under her portfolio as Minister of Finance. As the story put it, she had already packed her bags and booked her flight back to the US when the President realizing she meant business, had to appeal to her octogenarian professor father to ask his daughter to reconsider. True or not, she did continue in the role of Finance minister and managed the enviable feat of negotiating Nigeria's exit from the Paris Club, the first African country ever to achieve this. Many criticized her policies and some suggested that the debt buy back was not the best deal that Nigeria could have negotiated; but all agreed that her practice of publishing revenue allocations introduced a level of transparency never before seen in economic management. It is also instructive that there has been no whiff of corruption around her person- even the rumours that have swirled have only extended as far as her wider family members- no mean feat in a country where her actions would have meant that many would have been keen to smear her.

Her financial and economic achievements have been widely acknowledged but I would like to celebrate a part of her that did not often get acknowledged- her simplicity.

In Nigeria where flamboyance is the order of the day, Ngozi's consistent dressing in simple ankara cloth often accessorized with simple beads or coconut shell jewellery sent a powerful message to the Nigerian public. She showed that you did not have to be swathed in yards of lace, silk or satin and draped in tonnes of gold to be an effective or powerful woman. Her blunt speaking and sharp mind made her an alternative role model for young Nigerian women everywhere and earned her the respect of the international community.

It is sad that some Nigerian commentators see her decision to resign as a sign of an ego problem. It is no such thing. It was an act of pride and dignity from a fulfilled, capable and self-aware professional woman. She was left with no other choice, following the humiliation that she had received in the last two months. Reading her resignation letter, it's interesting that while she quotes two reasons for her resignation- urgent family reasons and having completed her assignments, the President's reply only acknowledges the first- the family reasons.

When all is said and done, President Obasanjo has not been fair to Dr Okonjo-Iweala, who had borne the brunt of criticism that she and others like her were responsible for creating a veneer of credibility around a corrupt and intellectually bankrupt government.

Yesterday was another sad day for Nigerians everywhere whether we realize it or not. Some of us who were hoping some day to follow in her footsteps will now have to re-evaluate our strategies

Breaking News? Okonjo-Iweala resigns?

Just got an e mail from the intrepid Omoyele Sowore of Sahara Reporters fame (he of the Gbenga Obasanjo interview and other allied citizen-journalist coups) alleging that Ngozi Okonjo Iweala has resigned from the cabinet http://www.saharareporters.com/dn001.php?dnid=98 Hardly surprising, if it's true- seeing my earlier post today about her being removed as chair of the economic team while she was away in London negotiating further debt relief. Interestingly enough, another Nigerian blogger, Ayoke had wondered in what may now seem to be a prophetic post, whether the time hadn't come for madam Ngozi to throw in the towel.....

How will the international lenders react? How will the other members of the economic team react? How will the vast majority of Nigerians who have even if grudgingly accepted her achievements in the economic realm react? Will it mean that the coffers of carefully husbanded foreign reserves will now be thrown open?

We'll see what unfolds tomorrow...

Looks like it's true...there's a report from Reuters quoting the Nigerian government http://snipurl.com/ucfs

Cooler days, the complexity of radical Islam & what's up between OBJ and Ngozi?

It looks like the really hot days are gone now- apparently July was the hottest summer in the UK since records started being kept. It's been fun, but it's also good to be able to open the blinds in the office now and not worry about having hot, sticky, stinky feet by the time the work day draws to a close.....

I'm reading Jason Burke's book On the Road to Kandahar:Travels Through Conflict in The Islamic World. He's The Guardian's Chief Correspondent and the book is basically about his travels in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan over the last 15 or so years. It's not terribly easy to read, there seems to be something missing, something too dispassionate and structured about it. It doesn't work as a particularly engaging narrative and if its primary point is analysis, then why all the personal vignettes many of which really add little to the whole argument? Or to put it another way it simply smacks vaguely of a cut and paste job- putting together what I suspect are various articles that have appeared in print elsewhere- into a book. What it does offer are interesting insights into how the image of a monolithic, terrorist, radical Islam that is sweeping the world is false and belies the myriad subtle differences and complexities that make up the Islamic world in 2006. It's a theme picked up in this week's Europe edition of Time magazine which I've enjoyed tremendously- it has a very good analysis of why it's wrong for the US to lump Hamas and Hizbollah, who have very specific, fairly local agendas in the same broad terrorist bag with Osama and others who have more grandiose global agendas. And there's a section on the meeting of East and West, retracing the footsteps of Marco Polo, in beautifully written prose, including a bit on Sri Lanka by one of my all-time favourite writers- Pico Iyer. The East West theme is a recurrent one these days but what the TIME stories offer are beautiful insights and images of what it is like in the new boom cities of China.

So, Obasanjo fires Ngozi Okonjo Iweala as head of the economic team, while she is in London negotiating further debt relief, coming only weeks after she was removed from Finance to Foreign Affairs. There's obviously something deeper going on than we ordinary people are privy to- I wonder if my initial synthesis of all the rumours is true- ie Obasanjo holding something over the Amazon which is allowing him to act this way- It'll be interesting to see what the international reaction will be, especially in the light of madam Ngozi's credibility in Western financial circles...... At times like this, I wish I was still in Abuja where the rumour mills worked 24/7 in situations like this, but where often through the chaff you could sift out the fine kernels of truth.....

Still no takers on the immigration campaign, I see..... Or perhaps on the scale of the problems facing Nigerian women, people think the ability to get a passport is quite minor. Fair enough, I know the women in my village aren't clamouring to be given passports but I personally believe that symbols are also important and powerful.....

Scotland Yard's poisoned chalice, unimpressed by Londonstani and Alentejo Blue and a ridiculous requirement

Scotland Yard has just been handed a poisoned chalice. Detectives from Scotland Yard have arrived in Nigeria, at the invitation of the Nigerian government to help unravel the truth behind the assassination of Funsho Williams, the politician brutally murdered in his bedroom in Lagos last week. Call me a cynic but I suspect the motivation of the Nigerian governement in inviting them. Working in unfamiliar terrain, arriving almost 24 hours after the event and lacking the necessary infrastructure/materials (CCTV etc), I suspect they'll have their work cut out. And if they fail, I can just imagine the Nigerian government crowing "Well, even the experts from Scotland Yard couldn't crack it, so you can't blame us, can you?"

I finished Londonstani and my verdict remains- readable, insightful but not a great book. Not even the not wholly plausible last minute sting in the tale saves it from being an average read. And to think some people were actually talking about it being nominated for the Booker...

Ditto for Alentejo Blue, Monica Ali's latest book, after Brick Lane. It's beautifully written- great prose and vivid pictures, but there's just too much going on. As she attempts to chart the lives of the inhabitants of a Portuguese village in the Alentejo, it feels as if she's trying to cram in every snapshot, every vignette, every story thread that she's ever stumbled across in the Portuguese village where she apparently owns a house with her husband. She should probably have focussed on four major characters max, or as an alternative written a much fatter book to allow all the different stories play out properly.....

Two weeks ago, I had an e mail forwarded to me from a friend. Apparently the Nigerian Immigration Service had cancelled a whole bunch of passports and circulated the numbers without informing the passport holders. So some people had found themselves refused entry at airports because their passports had been cancelled. I was sent a link to the NIS website http://www.immigration.gov.ng/index2.htm to make sure that my passport was not on the list displayed there. Thankfully it wasn't but what I did stumble across was this list of requirements for obtaining a Nigerian passport , http://www.immigration.gov.ng/passportypes.htm which for married women apparently includes a letter of consent from their husbands. There is no similar requirement for married men. Not too long ago, Jeremy Weate of naijablog published a post that began "it's 2006 abroad but in Nigeria it's 1956". That post provoked a lot of angry comment. Methinks that as far as this ridiculous requirement stands it's the 19th century in Nigeria. Do Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Dora Akunyili and Oby Ezekwesili and the rest of Obasanjo's amazons know about this requirement? I sense an opportunity for a brief, effective campaign, any takers?

Some good news,reading Londonstani, musing on stubbornness and another callous murder

Had some good news last night, just as I was leaving work. My phone rang and I took it out, answering casually, lazily"hellloo?"..... Is that Uknaija? the crisp, clipped voice said- It's Y here from Company Z.... It took a while for the words to register and for me to realize that this was a very important telephone call and a company topshot at the other end of the phone. "I was just ringing to let you know that we thought your proposal was the most credible and innovative and we will be going with it? We'll be sending out detailed paperwork tomorrow but I thought I'd let you know" And then the voice goes on to ask..."Are you surprised?" Am I !!!! "I'm stunned" is my response. The timing couldn't be better as I'd had a bit of a blip at work this week.....

On to the library where I bagged two of the books that had long been on my hit list- Gautam Malkani's Londonstani about a group of British-Asian "rudeboys" growing up in Hounslow and Monica Ali's Alentejo Blue set in a Portuguese village. Both haven't had great reviews, but I'd read an excerpt from Londonstani in Prospect a while ago and was intrigued by the experimental language in which it was written- a mishmash of Cockney, African-Caribbean, South Asian and hip-hop gangsta slang. I'm about halfway through and can see why the reviewers weren't so excited. It's a great and original theme exploring what it means to be a young British Asian man in London in 2006, but you can't help feeling that the author's trying too hard to over-analyze and extrapolate and theorize at the expense of the credibility of the story and the characters. And you can tell that the author writes for the Financial Times-he litters the book with economic phrases and arguments, sometimes putting them in the mouths of his characters in a way that detracts from the story. Perhaps he needs to write another non-fiction book outlining his economic theories. Nevertheless, it's an interesting story so far and gripping enough to keep my attention and the insights into another immigrant culture are valuable. I'll finish it off over the weekend.

To celebrate my good news I went with a friend to dinner at this fab new restaurant- we had lobster, potato and rocket salad to start and then slices of duck breast with caramelized endive in a peppercorn sauce and turnip gratin. The main was fabulous with the bitterness of the endives cutting the rich duck meat but also softened by the caramelization process; and the peppercorn sauce providing a spicy counterpoint to the richness of the creamy turnip gratin. Washed down with glasses of cold crisp, white wine, sitting on a quiet terrcae high up above the city, it was another delightful summer

On the radio, a representative of Muslim Brotherhood declaring that Israel has no right to exist as a nation, despite several attempts to make him modify his assertion, he is adamant. Meanwhile Israel thanks the international community for "giving it permission" to go ahead with its Lebanon campaign, and declares that everyone still in South Lebanon must be a terrorist as they had long been given notice to evacuate the region. As if it were so simple. With attitudes like these, it's unlikely that there will be progress made in peace talks. Sad but true.

Even sadder and more depressing is the news of the brutal callous murder of Funsho Williams, the grey bearded affable engineer who had consistently for the past ten years made no secret of his ambitions to rule Lagos State. Stabbed several times and then strangled in his own home by unknown assailants in spite of a heavy police armed guard, the news this morning was an ominous portent for politicking ahead of the 2007 elections. The Inspector General of Police has vowed to track down those responsible, but I can't help thinking of the long list of unsolved murders- from Chief Bola Ige, the late Minister of Justice assasinated in his own home to Chief Dikibo, Marshall Harry- and how we were also promised that "the perpetrators would be brought to book" One of the prime suspects in the Ige case today sits in the Senate as a "Distinguished Senator". Until we entrench accountability, the principle that actions have consequences, into our national life, we will sadly continue to see brazen instances of murder such as this.

A dark day, musical memories and reading dark Shriver

It's going to be one of those days, when you wake up and you just feel like going straight back to bed and staying there- not eating, not sleeping, not doing, just being. Looks like it's time for a break from work. I've got one coming up in a couple of weeks, but I'll need a tremendous amount of willpower to get through the next few days.

Yesterday, walking past some houses, I overheard someone playing Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" and I was taken back instantly to the first time I heard the song (or maybe it wasn't the first time, just the one time it became etched in my memory). A darkened living room somewhere in the posher sections of Festac Town, a bunch of teenagers trying to feel too cool for school- the boys huddled in conspiratorial groups in various corners; the girls coalescing, laughing loudly- too loud, maybe to hide their nervousness, and then the first notes of this song blare out and the open space in the middle of the dance floor is packed with writhing bodies, and I am in the middle of it all......

Strange how some songs are indelibly associated with certain memories- Sister Sledge's Frankie will always conjure up memories of a "lit day"(Lit coming probably from the fact that these events usually happened under the guise of a Literary and Debating Society Day- though very little literature or debating went on) as our school social events were then called with three girls strutting in unison, rhythmically swaying to the sound. They were from the American styled private school, not far from us and were allowed to wear make up with their school uniforms, which made them seem incredibly sophisticated, and made them the object of hatred for girls from the myriad other schools around......each time I hear the opening bars, I remember those three girls, all respectably married matrons now in far-flung corners of the globe, strutting their stuff, snapping their fingers and swaying ever so slowly to the beat.......

I'm currently stuck in the middle of We Need to Talk About Kevin- Lionel Shriver's Orange Prize 2005 win. It's haunting and disturbing-tracing the life of a teenage mass killer through letters from his mother to his father. I've wanted to read it for a long time, especially because many of my friends who have children said they had found it particularly disturbing. I haven't been able to put it down- but perhaps it's partly to blame for my low mood today....

Impressed by Virgin, unimpressed by Yahoo and the delights of an English summer weekend

Not a bad weekend. Friday saw me at Heathrow, seeing off friends going back to Nigeria. They were flying Virgin Upper class and I was impressed by the service, the pick-up limo, the luggage whisked through check in, etc etc, especially as it contrasted so starkly with me seeing off a friend's father flying business class back to Nigeria on KLM recently whose treatment left a fair bit to be desired. Two of his three suitcases were overweight, which I grant was his fault but the disdain with which the check in staff treated him, as he struggled to repack and redistribute the weight was appalling. This is the second time I've been impressed by Virgin. The first was my last trip to New York when I was well-impressed by the entertainment system- each seat had it's own video/television which you could pause and restart as needed, without being held captive by a centrally coordinated film system. In addition, the array of new films they had was impressive. Sadly on the flight back, it was the bog-standard central system.

At a party Friday night I find myself chatting to this guy who works for Yahoo. I make a mock cross-sign when he tells me who he works for and he asks why. I cite the case of the Chinese bloggers and he responds by saying that what the media reports fail to recognise is that their China offices were stormed by gun-wielding Chinese police. I'm skeptical and make this clear, and then he makes a comment which I find worrying. After all, he says, people haven't got any choice- they'll need to keep using Yahoo and Google because they are the best available, no matter how much they hate their policies. For their sakes, I hope he doesn't work in strategy, because I think that while people may not have choices now, dissatisfaction with the status quo is a potential growth area and a potential chink in the armour of the big guys. The attitude of "You have no choice" seems shockingly similar to New Labour's laid back attitude and look where it's leading them......

Saturday I'm at a dinner party and our host has prepared the loveliest roast chicken with roast potatoes. We eat outside in the Zen influenced garden and for once, I can actually understand a bit of what the fuss about English summers is all about. The first course is an amazing Stilton ice cream- a juxtaposition of cold and savoury which is perfect for a summer dinner....

On Sunday, to Tate Britain to see the Howard Hodgkin retrospective- I'm skeptical when a friend invites me but the vibrant colours and the way in which he is able to convey moods through colours and brushstrokes has me glowing gently all day....

All through the weekend the Middle East crisis preys on my mind- and I am particularly touched by the plight of the Lebanese people- the grass suffering as it is trampled,caught between the elephants of Hizbollah and Israel.....

Cooler weather now but incensed at avoidable tragedy in Nigeria, reading Burroughs and watching a family

Yesterday was scorching hot and we actually had an e mail at work detailing that we could "dress down", reminding us that we should drink plenty of fluids and asking that we monitor the temperature in our offices as there are apparently legal limits to how hot it can be in an office....

Thankfully today there's still good weather but there are more breezes and it's not so brain-fryingly hot....

Sad to read in the Nigerian newspapers today of a collapsed building in Ebute Metta in Lagos in which twelve people were killed. Two things that incensed me were- first, the fact that the developer had apparently been given permission for a two storey building but had ended up building a four storey building; and second, the fact that the rescue efforts were hampered by the absence of the necessary heavy equipment needed to rescue those trapped in the rubble. In the end, equipment was borrowed from a construction company........the lack of value attached to human lives in Nigeria still haunts me....

And in a reminder that accidents happen everywhere, 25 people were taken to hospital after one of the game rides at Alton Towers, a major theme park here, malfunctioned. I've always been wary of these fairground rides- call it my Naija unsophisticated naivete- but the thought of being hurled high up into the sky by a contraption is one that I'm uncomfortable with. Now, now, I can hear you snigger- but you fly so often in planes- I know- it's perverse and illogical but it's me.

I finished Augusten Burroughs' Sellevision yesterday and I found it quite funny, in direct contrast to his two previous books- Dry and Running With Scissors which were touted as being very funny but which I struggled to finish.

Last night, having a drink in the bar with friends, there was this very interesting family-Grandfather, father and son and a rather glamorous woman of a certain age who I assume was wife/mother- they seemed to be Greek or Turkish and the two older men click-clacked on their worry beads the whole time they were there. Father, brash and successful in his sleek blazer and large gold watch downed Scotch after Scotch to the irritation of distinguished, dignified, grey-haired grandfather who vociferously upbraided him in their language. Wife and son, disinterestedly flicked through what looked like brochures for one of the local universities, as their husband and father scowled in resentment at his father's chastisement. With the scowl on his face, I imagined I could see him as a little boy being chastised like this by his father and putting on the very same scowl, which education, money and success could not erase.....

London is hotter than Abuja- who'da thunk it

Just realized, looking at the BBC website that it's 32 degrees here and only 29 degrees in Abuja today......but as my colleague pointed out, the difference is that in Nigeria it's normal and expected and so you're kind of geared up for it. Here, there's allegedly power outtages and computers freezing and roads allegedly melting....and there are predictions that the temperature may even reach 37 degrees this week. Now if that isn't global warming, tell me what is....

Still hot, eating at Nyonya, arguing about the Middle east and musing on the Natwest 3

The heat wave continues and so the weekend passed in a blurry haze of exposed bodies, the slap of flip-flops (bathroom slippers, as they were less poetically known in Nigeria) and invitations to barbecues. It was a restful weekend despite the heat and I was able to snare a couple of books that I had wanted for a while from the library. First on the list was Lionel Shriver's We Need to Talk About Kevin which won the Orange Prize last year. It's been so in demand at the local library that I've only just got my hands on it. I was also able to get hold of Everyman's Rules for Scientific Living which was shortlisted for this year's Orange Prize. I'll be reading them in the days ahead, while lying on my couch after work sipping margaritas or perhaps a menta fresca- a non-alcoholic cocktail of mint and apple juice whic I first tasted over the weekend.

Saturday saw me at Nyonya a very nice Malay Chinese restaurant near Portobello Road. I first went there about a year ago and it was good to see that it was still doing good business and that the Nasi Lemak was still as good as ever. Described as a hawker favourite in Malaysia, the meal consists of coconut rice served with a chicken curry, fried mackerel (fried crunchily bone dry like you would get on the streets of Lagos), groundnuts, half a boiled egg, cucumber slices and sambal( a hot, sweet peppery sauce a bit like a fiery Lagos stew). I've never been to Malaysia, but the meal did seem authentic- you could almost imagine the hawker deftly slicing the hardboiled egg in two and then sprinkling a few groundnuts over the top....it was a great meal, not like the usual Thai, Chinese or Indian to which my experiences of Asian food have largely been limited....and the restaurant is one worth checking out. Funnily enough it isn't miles away from Angies, my favourite Nigerian restaurant on the Harrow Road, the only place that does jollof rice with that smokey, burnt flavour reminiscent of Nigerian party jollof rice...

Now to more somber thoughts- the face off in the Middle East. I got into another argument at the weekend. A friend had condemned Israel's heavy handed rsponse and I had agreed but pointed out that it was unclear what Israel was supposed to have done in the face of the kidnapped soldiers. His response was that Israel should have in a mature way sacrificed the kidnapped soldiers by refusing to negotiate with the kidnappers and therefore undermined them. I wasn't so sure as I felt that part of the Israeli national ethos is that sense of every citizen knowing that the state will go to extraordinary lengths to secure your future, and perhaps this is what Israel was trying to maintain......

Speaking of states and their citizens, many of the commentators on the Natwest 3 got failed to get to the heart of the issue. The Natwest 3 are the British bankers who were allegedly involved in the Enron scandal and who, having unsuccessfully tried to fight extradition, were extradited to face charges in the US last week. They were extradited under a bilateral treaty between the UK and the US, which while it has been ratified by the UK Parliament, is yet to go through Congress in the USA. What rankles me (and I suspect many others) is not the question of whether these men are guilty or not and whether they deserve punishment or not. It is the knowledge that NEVER would the US meekly hand over its citizens if the positions were reversed......this is clear from the way they blocked any possibility of US citizens appearing before UN tribunals- this I suspect is at the heart of the public outcry against extradition which produced an unlikely coalition of human rights campaigners and City businessmen, driven, I suspect by different motivations.....

The day before, words versus headbutts, two arrests and making headway with Soyinka

Tomorrow is a big day work wise and so I am in that kind of place where everything appears anti-climactic; and sitting at my desk and looking out on to the sunlit square opposite with skimpily dressed men and women sprawled basking in the sun, I get the sense that I can hear the buzzing of the heat, as if the air is treacle thick, yet clear......

A few days ago on the train I fell into a heated argument over whether or not Zidane was justified or not. While I chanted my mantra, long honed in my childhood playground "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me", my friends were as resolute in saying that sometimes words could cut as deep if not deeper than blows.....as the temperature in the train carriage soared, so did our passions, as we slung our arguments back and forth....in the end we stopped as normally-reticent London tube travellers swung their heads in our direction.....I've mused on this, long and hard but still struggle to accept that the spoken word, no matter how hateful can be equated with physical violence, but perhaps this is coloured by who I am and my experiences........

This morning on the news, Tony Blair's tennis partner and confidant Lord Levy is arrested on suspicion of peddling peerages. Perhaps this cash for peerages scandal, innocuous as it seems may end up having more serious repercussions than we think......

Meanwhile, back home in Naija, Mike Adenuga, the multibillionaire Chairman of Globacom the telecommunications company who's alleged to have close links to Babangida was apparently also arrested and is now under investigation by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, just as the Vice President Atiku Abubakar's bank records are seized by "security operatives" Obviously the stakes for 2007 are rising, especially as Atiku and Babangida recently met to join forces towards 2007

Last night I stayed up late reading Wole Soyinka's "You Must Set Forth at Dawn" I'd tried a few months ago and lost interest, mired in the dense opacity of the first few chapters but yesterday lying on the couch, I went back to it and ploughed through, and once past the first few chapters am now enjoying it...as eclectic and inscrutable as the man himself

Miliband, an idea and Wiwa's new post

Rumours that the youthful David Milliband is being considered by the Blairites as a replacement for beleaguered hapless John Prescott. The idea is that he will fend off any potential disloyal Labour candidates or people from Gordon Brown's camp which could potentially weaken Blair.....

I'm instinctively distrustful of Blairites, as I am of most ideologues and yet there's something about the idea that's attractive. Labour needs someone young and fresh if they are to counter Cameron with his "hug-a hoodie" and "intelligently planned immigration is good for us" and "hey look I cycle to work" messages.....

It's sad but true, that in modern politics, image is pretty much half the battle won, and for all that Labour may snipe about Cameron's "content-free" policies, it's largely his image that's propelling his ascent in the polls. Gordon Brown will never be a match but perhaps a smart young Deputy might help. It doesn't have to be Milliband- just someone young, smart, articulate and media-friendly.......dare the Labour party think radical?

Meanwhile I see Ken Wiwa has joined the Nigerian government as a special assistant to the President on conflict resolution. I hope it all works out for him, that he isn't just being used to buy credibility.Plus, is he ready for the cut and thrust of Nigerian politics? I wonder what his uncle Owen who was long involved in the Ogoni struggle (before fleeing into exile in Canada) thinks.

Addicted to news

As a child in what was then affluent Nigeria, my parents subscribed to various foreign magazines from TIME magazine and Newsweek to Africa and West Africa. And so every Monday morning, the newspaper vendor who came by on his motorcycle would bring that week's edition of these magazines as well as a raft of local newspapers and magazines.

Looking back now I realize that in that vendor and our relationship can be traced the story of the Nigerian economy. For from him zooming round on his motorcycle, he stepped down over the years as the economy deteriorated- first to a bicycle and then -to peddling his wares on foot. Similarly we stopped buying the foreign magazines and then reduced our order of local magazines and then stopped having him deliver, only going to the stand where he had ended up, and buying when there was something particularly newsworthy. Otherwise, as a member of the Free Readers' Club (the jocular name given to those that could not afford to buy but who would hover around newsstands browsing and copping a free read), I would hover around and browse....until one day, even free reading was banned and Vendor (as we called him) brought in a new rule......even to browse, you had to pay a fee.....

Why I am remembering this just now, I'm not sure, but it only serves to remind me how precious my 24/7 access to BBC and Nigeriaworld and all the other news outlets is, or should be.....

Meeting Ken, a bit of NY in London, Italia,enjoying Emer McCourt and a rash ban

A funny old weekend. At the RISE anti-racism festival in Finsbury Park, organized by the Mayor of London I bumped into the man himself getting orange juice for his two delightful kids, who seemed to be having the time of their lives. It's funny how people look larger than life in the media, Ken Livingstone always comes across as this dapper, vibrant, powerful figure. Yet on Saturday in his old T-shirt and jeans, slightly wearied by the sun, he just looked like another middle-aged father frazzled by his toddler children.......The festival was fun and a great day out, and coming so soon after July 7, there was no better time to celebrate the theme : London United.......

During the week, walking down Cheapside near St Paul's in the City, as the traffic poured down the street, I suddenly spotted a yellow New York cab making its way down the street. Then a second and a third. I'm not sure what it was about, but it made me (and a couple of other bystanders I suspect) execute a double take. You know the kind of feeling where you're thinking "Am I dreaming or is it real? Where am I? New York or London?" Someone thought it might be in solidarity with London over the anniversary of the 7th of July bombings.....

Then last night, the World Cup finals which I watched in a local pub- I shouted myself hoarse with the bubbly Italians that seemed to swarm all over London in their blue Azzuri shirts and the red-white -green tricolore. I wondered if there were any French living in London at all. There was one lone voice in the pub who occasionally chipped in with a brave "Allez le bleues", but he was no match for the Italian contingent who sang, danced and were generally as over the top as all the stereotypes- witness the carryings-on by the team themselves when they went up to receive the cup. I was supporting Italy for two reasons- first because of their dazzling performance in the semi-final against Germany and second because I was incensed to read that some French people were not supporting Les Bleues because they were not white enough......with that I thought, if you can't all get behind the team, then you really do not deserve to win. I did feel for the individual French players though, who played with passion. Particularly Zidane and his moment of madness and Thuram who cried like a baby when they lost and Henry stoic in defeat......Now that the World Cup and Wimbledon are both over, what will occupy our minds and conversations, at work, on the train and in the pubs?

I just finished Emer McCourt's debut novel Elvis, Jesus and Me, about two siblings growing up in Northern Ireland during the Troubles. It's written in a very humorous tone and yet there are deep dark issues that she manages to explore humorously without trivializing them....

On a final note, I understand the Nigerian video censors board has banned the film The Da Vinci Code from being shown in Nigeria, which is sad and symptomatic of the closed-mindedness that seems to be sweeping across my country. A faith that cannot stand questioning, perhaps needs to be re-examined......and by banning it, the Board has only given it more prominence, painting it with the attractiveness of the forbidden