Dignitaries at the launch of Magnus Onyibe’s new Book – becoming President of Nigeria
Dignitaries at the launch of Magnus Onyibes new Book – becoming President of Nigeria
by Joseph Edgar
written by Joseph Edgar 10mins read
I have spent the last 12 hours watching Mo Abudu’s latest offering on Netflix. I find Netflix quite boring as I often glean through the offerings looking for something to attract my attention.
Once in a while, something like Anatomy of a Scandal or Bridgeton will catch my interest, and I will be glued. But none of the Nigerian offerings ever attracted my attention.
Then I caught a younger friend watching Blood Sisters on her phone, and I asked why she was so entrapped. At 26, working as an investment banker and getting carried away at work with Blood Sisters, I made it a point of note to see it when I got home.
The series is so beautiful in its lack of originality that I began to stare in amazement. It’s so brilliantly put together that you must begin to see the high amount of creative energy that must have gone through its production.
The casting, the layout, and the depth of the storyline. Its intriguing fluidity is enmeshed in the suspense that has been designed to capitulate and keep you glued to the screen. Its aim is achieved as you fly into the world of the Ademolas.
As you watch, you realize you are watching so many American movies in this Nigerian series. I saw Dynasty, Starsky and Hutch, Hawaii 5.0, and so many other international films and TV series blatantly copied in mannerisms, plots, and lines.
But you are willing to forgive because its beauty makes you realize that it must have taken a crop of geniuses to have meshed so many plots and caricatures into this bewitchingly exciting story.
Kate Henshaw was perfect as the wooden matriarch. At first, I was afraid she would not be able to carry the role. Her initial shaky performance gave way to a perfectly blended outpouring. I loved her.
But I asked what Keppy was doing there. Cementing stereotypes is not my thing. So, the Igbo man must always be a trader and be eager for money. Keppy was miscast; he didn’t carry it well, while Uche was brilliantly stiff.
It wasn’t her comfort zone, but she did well.
The two lead ladies were near perfect. Ohh, I loved them. Although Kemi was initially stiff, she relaxed later and gave an Oscar-winning performance.
You know, I have a crush on the second lady. She can do no wrong. When Kola was strangling her, I felt like jumping in and blowing her head off.
Her beauty, her carriage, and her striking resemblance to my daughter, Annette, made me position her as my star.
The hitman sent to kill Kola in the initial scene was the worst in the series. I cannot lie; I didn’t understand all that frowning and doing alagbara all over the place. Last but not least, he could not even fight. They ate butter. Although mad, Kola was able to beat him up with bare hands. Na wa for this director, o.
My main complaint was that they didn’t give us enough Kola. Kola was my Denzel Washington in that movie. His looks, charisma, and technique were killing.
He carried the role well. He was perfect, and kudos to the casting director, but he was killed too early. He was left with a huge vacuum as his best man, despite his strong talent not being able to fill it.
The jokers in the pack were Arinze and the Chicago policeman. Arinze is still looking rough and he came with the old Nollywood acting style. This is not Ichokwu, this is Netflix. All that growling and opening of big eyes won’t work again.
Chicago had watched too many American cop movies that he confused himself. He wasn’t sure who he was, whether Will Smith in Bad Boys, Brad Pitt, or Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop. He just tried to carry all of them together and came up as the weakest link in the movie.
Ramsey, Noah, you exhaust me. The strong silent type popularized by Kevin Costner in the bodyguard for Whitney Houston’s character did not work. much effort. He wasn’t fluid, wasn’t free, and carried a certain tension that reduced his usual sterling performances.
I loved the sexual energy of the second son’s wife. She killed her role as the tempting but ambitious vixen. Her hubby, the bumbling pretender to the throne, was perfect, and their sexual chemistry turned me on.
The part where the cameraman showed us a wiff of her red pants as they struggled to make love was magic. A copy, but still magic.
The director killed me with the bathing and fighting scenes in the rehab. Come and see beautiful, robustly natural naked sisters in that scene. These were real naked African bodies with all the flaws you can imagine-big tummies, droopy breasts, and huge thighs; it was beautiful. I loved it and kept going back to it. Mad
I loved the story. I loved the way it was told and despite the fact that I saw almost 12 movies in Blood Sister, I still enjoyed myself. How else would you explain me not leaving for work this early because of Blood Sister?
So, has Mo Abudu won my respect? I will say she is almost there. This was a brilliant effort, and I must congratulate her for her tenacity and hard work in pulling a great team together.
Blood Sisters is a must-watch, and I give it 4 stars. Well done Aunty
The Duke of Shomolu
I had a long conversation with my friend Wole on African Traditional Religion last night.
He was so engaging and talked superlatives about its mores, traditions, and ceremonies.
He talked about the rules of engagements, the sacrifices, and the powers that come as a strong adherent.
I was not only interested but very curious. He said most big men were adherents and the number one man in the place was having a big ceremony today and as such, we can’t visit the main shrine but we could visit some other ones.
We visited 7 today. They were not as beautiful as the guided mosques and churches we are used to
They were scary and almost childish in their apartments. The first shrine under the second level of the famous olumo rock housed the holy place of the egbas.
The chief priest was nice. He wore all white and held the obvious horsetail. I asked if I could go in. They said no and that only the Alake and Chief priest can enter at a particular date.
Sacrifices are made there; we saw the blood on the floor, chicken feathers, and all other stuff.
The next one was for women. The Iya oluwo. We saw two very old women sitting on mats. We saw the shrine dt cured chickenpox and other childhood illnesses like measles and were told that the Iya orisa who was 137years PLD was still alive.
I begged to meet her but they laughed that she no longer came to the shrine.
We gave them some money, and they prayed for us. The third one was one of my inlaws.
The men saw me and said, “You are our inlaw, welcome.” I was amazed, and they repeated – you marry from Ikija, and I was amazed. How did they know?
The rock transcends two communities – Ikija and itoko – and yes, I was married in Ikeja.
They asked me to come in. I sat in between them, and they welcomed me ‘home’. I took pictures and thanked them for their warmth
I saw two other shrines, but by this time, I was tired and hungry, took their pictures, and went straight into the cave where ancient warriors hid to ward off attackers from Dahomey.
We saw a 250-year-old plant that was used to enthrone the Alake of Egbaland. We were told it never withered.
What I learned today is plenty. The slowness in modernizing their processes and methods is working against them in a digital age.
Making live animal sacrifices, having shrines in scary places, and secrecy of the methods all work against them, esp when competing religions have imbibed the digital age up to getting ‘pos’ machines in churches to collect tithe.
Their penchant for secrecy also allows for a lot of myths and false assertions, which strengthens scary narratives about them and their adherents.
Furthermore, their shrines also evoke fear. Their locations, and their instruments of worship, all evoke fear, and if u compare this with other religions, you will see what I’m talking about.
But from what I saw today was the feel-good factor from its adherents who were warm and were happy to receive us.
They allowed us to take their pictures with us and took time to explain some aspects of their religion but never failed to say, ‘ We can’t tell you that one
As I came down the beautiful rock after inspecting a cave built over 500 years ago, which was still standing, I wondered just how long these beautiful stories would be shrouded in the secrecy of our dark past.
The stories I heard today were exciting, enthralling, and powerfully engaging.
Lovely
Duke of Shomolu
Clemas Effanga is a super exquisite fashion brand that has over the years developed scented threading of male lines.
Here is The Duke of Shomolu modeling some of his pieces in a run down to a private collection – Prive – inspired by the Duke – that would be unveiled to a curated grouping of just 20 high networks individuals.
Scenes from Babakekere
Beautiful faces at Babakekere Command performance
Most men who are sexually active have found themselves in the situation I am about to describe.
She loves you. You’ll love her. The mood is right, and the body language on both sides says it all.
You move, she receives you. You look into her eyes and you see lust. You unhook her bra, and she smiles, and just at the point of entry, she says No.
She carefully pushes you back. But you are experienced. You know her. This does not mean yes. Women are wired that way, you tell yourself.
You continue, and she pushes back, but as she pushes back, She pulls up closer. You are a little bit confused. Her hands are saying no, but her eyes and open legs are saying yes.
You get there, and she is all wet. ready for you. You thrust, and she thrusts back, but she is still saying “No” with her mouth while giving you her all.
Then, you start to hear little moans from her. So you relax and increase the tempo and the moans begin to rise, and by the time you are through, she is screaming down the roof and you climax and roll over and smile to yourself. Yes, I am the man.
It is at this point that your life will begin to change because she does not have control of what will happen.
She may not feel right about it. Yes, she enjoyed it, but something was missing. There was no warmth in his eyes. She begins to feel one kind.
She can’t explain it, but she feels violated. She feels used. She suddenly feels less of a woman. She looks at you as you smile and feels repulsed.
Woe betide you if she now goes to the wrong woman for advice. Then your life will begin to turn around like a yo-yo.
This is the most dangerous part of all of this rape matter. We understand the violent part, where sufficient force is applied. We understand when a weapon is used with full consent, but the part we still don’t understand is the part I just explained.
The woman loves you; she is part of the process, but after it all, she feels violated.
Thankfully, most don’t do anything about it, but a tiny few will go ahead and report it, and there, the multitude of feminist me-too activists will chew you to death.
I watched a movie recently where this played out. He was a married man, and she was single. She was close to the Prime Minister, and he had rough sex with her, which she enjoyed and initiated in the lift.
She tore her blouse herself but couldn’t finish tearing it, so the man tore it for her. She asked to be bitten on her breast so she could masturbate to the scars later, but after it all, she felt violated.
According to her, she felt useless, like a whore because he ‘f..d me in the lift just like that’. She went for advice and Pronto a report of sex without consent was filled out and the same thing she asked for in the lift was used as evidence against the man.
Her argument was that she had said, “Not here, and he didn’t listen.” He explained that not here was part of their love language, and for them, it implied taking me. But who will understand that one in a Nigerian court?
For me, I get scared. I get a lot of interest from women. A lot of them come outrightly to ask for sex. Plenty send me their nudes in all shades.
What has kept me upright is this thing, which I will explain. Once a woman doesn’t feel right about an encounter, you have been raped. Emotional value and security are the currency of the woman.
Once she doesn’t get that from you, she feels less of a woman. So why risk it when it is not really yours to give?
If her intuitions drive that process, all you can do is to enable it by saying the right things, doing the right things, and if she is the material type, buying the right things.
But all in all, you still don’t have control over how she will feel afterward. Not even herself. So why take the risk?
My brothers, my advice to you all at this time is self-pleasure, even with your legal wife.
If you are not sure of the encounter and you really have to come off, masturbate and walk away.
This is what I have mastered, and I want to believe it has saved my life. Masturbation comes to the rescue.
For the man who needs to relieve himself, that can be achieved variously: through a woman, butter, or a hole in the mattress.
Mbok, the hole in the mattress, will save you from all the complexities that will come from an encounter with a woman who is not confident in her sexuality or herself.
In today’s world, all you need to have your reputation damaged is an allegation of rape. See, even groupies who beg to be fucked will come back and allege, and you have to start fighting the fight of your life.
If you are not sure of the nack, wank. Simple
The Duke of Shomolu
Scavenging is one of the easiest things in the world to do. A scavenger waits for someone else to kill, and then it feeds off the remnants.
A scavenger is nowhere near the value chain. You don’t create anything or add any value. He just waits to scrounge the remains. A vulture
As a young banker, I used to get sacked a lot because I would not scavenge. Everybody will run to the NPA Superannuation fund, where my brother Henry Abebe was holding sway, to collect their 30-day money.
I would not do that, instead, I would try to develop markets. Try to bring together all the traders in Oshodi under one canopy to collect N1,000 from one million of them in a bid to build a huge retail base.
By the time I even get to the first meeting, MPR will come, and they will abuse the living daylights out of me.
I discovered that at BGL, for example, we had a huge portfolio running into billions, with only three people holding 80% of the funds. This was dangerous, and I screamed, but did they see? Not at all. They sacked me.
At Magnum, Investment One, and CSL, I continued to run against the headwinds, seeing what they could not see and was sacked at all of these institutions.
This is what I think is happening with my brother Abu at Sterling. So he has been appointed MD/CEO of a major financial institution and instead of scavenging the shortcuts of forex arbitraging, short call funds, and all those quick-fix things they do to record humongous profits while the underlying economy is suffocating, he has decided to thread only where Lions thread.
His figures are not looking good, and he is facing a barrage of torment from his critical stakeholder community.
Recently, he ran into turbulence with the Easter greeting, comparing our Jesus to Agege bread. He has apologized, but the wolves seem to have been strengthened.
This morning, I asked him how he was faring, and he said, “I shall make you proud. You will be able to say, I saw it when most were in doubt.”
That is the strength I needed. Abu Dhabi is at the forefront of the economic Renaissance we need. He is the first foot soldier who is pushing the frontiers of our economic rebellion.
To the old revolutionary, he is saying things that make sense. He is saying that the underlying economy needs to be revamped, jobs need to be created, and sustainable growth must be achieved in the real sector.
This cannot be accomplished by trading overnight funds, advocating for FPI, trading forex, and charging fees for collecting government bills, among other things.
This is why he is going to areas with very low margins, with no real growth prospects, and very terrible returns with a huge risk, but which come with a huge potential for the economy and our people in the long term.
Education, health, and infrastructure are his main targets. If you add technology and services, you will understand where he is going.
To drill it down, Abu is carrying our “shit” now so that we can have a better future.
Today, he is being stoned with rotten tomatoes. His corporate communications people are not helping matters with such a huge gaffe; he is being called all kinds of names, but he is standing. real firm.
The beauty of Abu’s vision is that it is borderless, that it transcends time and finite structures. It will outlive Abu in Sterling as it has already started taking roots.
People like Tosin Runsewe—I’m sorry, sir, but I have to mention you, Afolabi Adetola, are doing things in the health sector.
They are raising huge funds, buying up healthcare facilities, and turning them into great economic machines, upturning the sector.
Abu’s travails will never come to naught. He does not only see what we can’t see but has the mind to pursue it in the face of shallow consternation from those who think they know.
Like I have told him, he would have to sift through his shareholder base, push for more huge investors with a long-term view, and encourage the short-term investors to cash out or sell down and go take positions in other banks where trillions are made in days so that we can concentrate on building a sustainable platform in Sterling.
As the need to build a bulwark around Abu and his team become clear to us, we will begin to encourage people to buy Starling Bank shares.
We will push millions to take up shares in Sterling Bank, push them to enter strategic shareholder committees, and drive their media strategy independently as it is very clear that we can no longer sit on the fence.
Today, I pledge all my free earnings to the purchase of Sterling Bank shares, and I beg you all to join me if we are going to help Abu prove this point.
Let’s buy Sterling. Let’s take the bank. It is our bank.
Thanks
The Duke of Shomolu
You know, my first love was and still remains, the capital market. As a trader on the floor of the Nigerian Stock Exchange, I used to love the excitement of closing deals, selling and buying, and haggling for shares.
So when I saw the post by one who bought shares in a particular bank for N22,300 some 15 years ago and sold them for N20,000 without earning a dividend, I stood up.
Although she didn’t mention the name of the bank, she posted the share certificate, which had Access Bank on it.
My quick take on this is that there is a dearth of investor education in this country, and this blame falls squarely on the shoulders of every stakeholder, from the regulators to the brokers down to the quoted companies.
With a fairly above-average investor education, posts like these would be minimized, and the unfortunate comparison between the markets and bitcoins would not have happened.
Access Bank remains one of the most traded shares on the markets. The firm has gone through a lot of transformations within the stated period, which has led to tremendous investor benefits for those who have held the shares.
Some banks have been acquired, a merger has occurred, I think, and much more recently, a robust and comprehensive restructuring, which has seen the firm move into a Holdco structure with about 15 subsidiaries.
All these movements have thrown up significant investor benefits, making its shares well sought after in the markets.
A deeper look at the share movement history would show that these posts, which have inadvertently gone wide, are way off the mark.
My request to the reading public is to open this lady’s home to me. Not only her but anybody who holds this kind of position so that I can better educate them on the markets.
People invest for three major reasons, amongst others. Dividends, capital appreciation, and growth by bonus shares
So, if you take a position in a share like Access Bank, you should benefit from any of these three positions.
If it were true that Access Bank has not paid a dividend in 15 years, I would think the share price would be trading below par right now, with investor confidence significantly eroded.
Over the period, this lady, not being properly schooled on the markets, would have seen these opportunities come and go without taking advantage.
Prices are expected to go up and down as they chase equilibrium. It is a perfect market, and investors are expected to have an investment objective, making them very closely watch the price to know when to enter or come out.
A lot of people who do not understand this, like this lady, would have entered Access and gone to sleep, only to wake up when the pricing has come down and others have reaped the benefits to now sell at a funny price, which I must say would be of tremendous advantage to discerning investors who would be waiting for that break-even point to enter again.
This is why I am annoyed with the capital market: deliberate efforts at education are at best weak, hence this kind of mumu talk.
Unclaimed dividends are running into trillions of dollars. People are not moving their share certificates to CSCS, and as such, their dividends are hanging in the air, and they are shouting.
The Access Bank share certificate being displayed is as old as my son, who is now 22 years old. Everything is now electronic, and this is why the CSCS run by my brother Jallo Waziri is very critical in the back end.
What this lady need is a good broker or an investment adviser who would better guide her as she navigates the markets.
She should also get the broker to help her locate her dividends and help move her share certificates into the CSCS so that it will be easy to take advantage of price movements and spare us this kind of sad song.
Finally, I will get either Access Bank or the Stock Exchange, or even the CSCS to organize a quick investor education series to better educate Nigerians on the markets, especially on how they can take advantage of their tremendous benefits.
Thank you.
Edgar Joseph
Editor in Chief.
