Random Thoughts With Asat – Insatiable Goals (Pre-18)

This was to be a motivational article. But I’m less motivated to even motivate you. So I’ll write my thoughts and drop the mic, Obama style.

Are we together?

What is your goal in life? Does the following tick it for you?

  • Make money;
  • Marry that soul mate;
  • Make more money;
  • Have kids.
  • Holiday in Bahamas enroute Seychelles Island.

You are on the right path. But that’s not why I’m writing. You see, our goals in life is a function of our circumstances and a subset of our age. I’m saying our goals move with our lives. Here, allow me to highlight some of the goals you’ve had, fulfilled and forgotten.

The ultimate goal, while we were small and in primary school, that comes to mind is the transition from pencil to biro. Oh yeah, we’ll should remember that. Teachers saying you’re too young to use biro and you’re condemned to that 2B pencil because you’re just not wise enough not to soil your notebook with ink and ink and more ink.

And the day you made the transition, you felt like a big boy and a slay queen, didn’t you? You started walking with a raised shoulder like

That’s goal number 1.

Then, you started craving for positions, even at that young age. You wanted to be the class captain (class rep is for the new millennium kids, I suppose). You wanted that power because your plan was to write noise makers without putting your name and yours in it. Strategizing and lobbying surely began at that age.

Then, in your last year in primary school, the goal was to be a prefect. In the first ten years of your life, your goals in life are mostly academic inclined. You wanted to upgrade, command respect and fling power. Not bad.

The next phase of your life, starting from age eleven is a fusion of academics and puberty goals. The first goal is acing that Common Entrance exam and entering that choice school. You beat that, then the whole class captain and power merchant struggle returned.

If you are egocentric, you’re also now much concerned about your grade. You want to top your class and be referenced by the teachers. That’s all you wanted at that point in time. And if it’s not working out for you, you start sulking like Alexis Sanchez.

And if your secondary school was like mine, the ultimate goal at the junior level was to move to the senior class, start wearing long trousers rather than the shorts that were akin to the designers modelled at Alagbon.

Oddly, the goal was also to have veto power over the juniors, send them on errands, collect their food and punish them just for no reason.

Sandwich in-between academics, the puberty goals were even more pronounced. As a guy, getting that first strand of hair beneath your mouth is the best feeling ever. And if it’s long enough to be stroked, you’ve surely made it in life.

Those tiny, curly and mostly useless beards were the ish at that age. We legit looked forward to growing one. And for those who were impatient, daily application of medicated spirit on the jaw still didn’t help their life.

The girl goal was to have noticeable reproductive organs and they ridiculed those who were late boomers.

Then, you got to the stage of turning your crush into your lover. Oh wait, you’ve been having crushes right from primary school, isn’t it? I know. But then, you didn’t have the problem of asking girls out or how to feel and react when you’re asked out. So you get to secondary school and you start looking forward to meeting the love of your life and doing all the lovey lovey things.

You’ve listened to all the albums of Westlife, Celine Dion, Joe, RKelly and Styl Plus were your role model. So you have an idea of how love should be played and it’s all sweet in your head. Then you asked her out, she agreed, you dated, reality checked in and it’s all over before it even started.

Heartbreak Hotel.

After several attempts at having a girlfriend, attempts been several letter writing, poems composition, confirm Song of Solomon toasting and those bad ass gators you imbedded on your trouser so you could look peng, the first day a girl says yes, you couldn’t believe it. You were like, so I can actually toast a girl and she’ll say yes? You run off to celebrate with your boys..

Finally, the goal was to graduate. But then graduation was one thing, passing your WASSCE with flying color was another. That was the ultimate goal of the secondary school. And many of us, if not all scaled through. From the day you checked your result in the cyber cafe and you passed, you sure knew your level don change.

There you go. That’s me done with the first part of this goals trilogy.

As always, kindly endeavor to drop a comment. Especially as it relate to goals you had pre-18.


Random Thoughts With Asat – Ìjẹ̀bú-Igbo, Hides and Ponmo

So last week I was in Ìjẹ̀bú with wọlé and big mummy on some outta town trips. Glazing through the potholes of road and the numerous police checkpoints, we landed in the ancient city of Ìjẹ̀bú-Igbo. The ogún state government is erecting an overhead bridge that’s looked absolutely unnecessary and a classical case of white elephant project. That is another day’s story.

Few drive from the bridge we arrived at our location. An innocuous part of the town, kids and teenagers brandishing their white teeth at us. Then the first image caught my attention.

Oh! You’re confused too? To be honest, I initially thought it’s a stack of wood. Then I said no, this should be some towels. Or am I having my brightness disorder all over again? I finally reassured myself that it must be Guinea brocade fabric of same colour.

Well, wọlé brought me back to sensibility. All I saw was the outer layer of a cow. The hide that the butchers in the north decided not too incinerate with the cow. What I saw was the same they sell up the continent to the babariga adorning Moroccan leather designers.

Quick questions revealed that a trailer full arrive this location with the hides and the process of making the world famous Ponmo begins. Using a combination of salt, natural sun and incinerators. The salt act as a natural preservative as it renders the hides almost odorless and keep the flies away.

After several hours in the incinerator and consistent sun drying, your really, sumptuous and tasty ponmo is ready.

Do ensure you soak the ponmo overnight before consumption. That softens it and remove the excess salt that was used to preserve the hides.

When next you enjoy that original ponmo, be rest assured it was likely “manufactured” from Ìjẹ̀bú-Igbo. A soothing southern-Northern bilateral trade.

Kindly remember to leave a comment behind after reading. I always respond, in most cases.

Please, share on your platforms.

Random Thoughts with Asat – The Davinci Bro Code


In the world of gender equality, feminism and macholism we find ourselves, the male folks have a pivotal distinct advantage over the female lots. A code. Greater than that forged by Da Vinci. Unwritten, hardly mentioned yet formidable. It’s intriguing to note that these set of rules have, over the years, bonded the male folks. No matter where you come from, age or antecedent, so far you’re a guy, you’re bound to respect the Bro Code.

Here I give to you the top six bro codes.  Continue reading “Random Thoughts with Asat – The Davinci Bro Code”

Random Thoughts with Asat – Wedding, Marriage and Tonto


This should be short.

I hope.

So news making the round for the past two weeks were varied allegations and counter allegations by Mrs Churchill and Her Immaculate Mr X. That their celebrity marriage is heading for a crash is not a major news item again, to be sincere. These days, Nepa light in my area last longer than most of the celebrity co-unions. What strikes me was the lies and fronting Tonto Dikeh had been pushing forward about her marriage to her willing consumers before it purported crash.

Your see, Mrs Tonto has had us believe her marriage was Eldorado. Branding it as major goals for them single ladies. Her wedding was goals for many ladies and they are still hell-bent on finding a man like Churchill who will spoil them silly. We were all chilling in the comfort of our homes when Mrs Tonto broke the news of her husband buying her a Lexus Jeep. Just for keeps. She had serialized our eyes with a whole lot of material possessions her LOML had been dishing out day in, day out. Our single sisters had all been hoping, wishing and praying for a man like Churchill. 

Once again, the society focus have been on the wedding and not the marriage. The focus have shifted from compatibility and comfort in marriage to material possessions and gift. Fame, money and class have replace humility, tolerance and self-sacrificing spirits.

My generation is now more concerned with pre-wedding shots, Bridal shower, Bella naija wedding, bespoke event centers and ovation centre spreads. My generation will attend a wedding ceremony and won’t bother saying a prayer for the new couple. Instead, we will argue and compare the wedding with the prior one we attended last Saturday. My generation will analyse the bride from the wedding gown to the make up. 

The holy matrimony between a couple goes beyond the wedding day. Our focus should be on the marriage and not the frivolities that surround one Saturday afternoon. 

Weddings maximally last for five hours. Marriage is a lifelong commitment. But if you’re a Mrs Churchill and Mr X, maybe if they can last a year. Be guided. 


Rant Over!

Be kind enough to leave a comment below. 

Picture credit. Larthorber photography

Random Thoughts with Asat – Of Prophets, Prophecies and Predictions


What a Week!!!

Donald Trump is the president-elect of the self-acclaimed free world, America. I mean, ‘Your Excellency President Trump sir’! I laugh out loud. The whole election chagrin had got me thinking how we care as Nigerians about frivolous things and nick our mind off the real troubles we face as a people and as a nation.

Two things happened this week that made a light of what the GOAT Jesus had said some two thousand years ago. In the last days, many false prophets will abound with frivolous prophecies. I would imagine these so called prophets, many of you believe, adore and worship more than God himself, are no different from our youths who gamble on soccer bets using odds, permutation and pure logic. If Barcelona is playing a weaker team, the permutation is worked out based on Barca’s present form, the recent results between the pair and other logic. Truth is, your prophet use logic for predictions. Your pastor is just another NairaBet player.


A certain ‘Man of God’ had said he saw a vision. A revelation from God which, according to the pastor, showed the winner of the election. He said the election was going to be very close. He said the winner will encounter challenges at the beginning of his administration. He then said the winner would be a woman. Everyone, bar few people in this country, thought the winner of the election was going to be a woman. America’s elections for the past two decades have always been a close call. And no one resumes a new job without initial difficulties and settling down challenges. I mean, I’m facing one currently. You see, your prophet thought of all these permutations, followed the polls, watched CNN far too long and made his bet. If only he had been watching FOXtv! Your pastor failed.


The Woman Winner

In another classical twist, a prophet was arrested this week in Lagos for defrauding bank customers after giving them fake prophecies. A police source claimed the woman prophet is a member of a four-man syndicate.

The police source said:

“In her statement, she confessed that the syndicate’s mode of operation was to lurk around bank premises, while her role was to accost a bank customer suspected to be with money.

“The suspect explained that she would pretend that she was new in Lagos and asked for direction from the victim. Simon would subsequently make shocking spiritual revelations about her victim, after which she would advise that a special prayer must be offered for the victim.

“The next move was to take the victim to a nearby place where the three other accomplices were waiting and they would replace the money withdrawn by the victim with disposable papers, covered with a few Naira notes.”

Remember. Logic, permutation and trends aid predictions. Many of your prophets are just 9jaBet players in collar. Use your head. Religion is a snare. Your ‘Men of God’ are fallible. Be guided.

Do note that GOAT means Greatest of all Time.

Be kind enough to share your thoughts with me in the comment section.

Cheers to a soothing weekend.

Random Thoughts With Asat – Mayorly Tracy

This should be very short.

I’m not under any pressure. Having said that, i should probably point out that people around me are getting married these days it reminds me i’m not getting any younger. Having served together in Iseyin, it was up to Mayowa (My Thursday After CDS “Poundedyam Abete Rendezvous”) to get married. Coded guy! Mayor just pulled a Beyonce on us all and drop a Lemonade. Interestingly, his wive is more of a cherry sweet beauty and has no soar taste.


Mayor, The Real G!

Eight months together in the same lodge, I developed a spunky and hearty bond with Tracy. A charming heart and lovely soul. She had left Warri all the way to Oyo state, spent a year, got her NYSC certificate and apparently on the verge of picking up a marriage certificate, all thanks to the national service.

I hope to be like you guy soon. (Apparently, when i grow up) But until then, I wish you both nothing but joy and happiness in the path of life you’ve chosen.

Blessings on Blessings!


The Dabbing Bride




Random Thoughts With Asat: The Hausas. Ten Myth, Facts and Forklore.

Nine years ago, the farthest I’ve travelled in this country was Kwara state. First it was offa, then Oro and finally, Ilorin. Press the “fast forward” button to 2016 and I’ve known places. Well, it’s a privilege. Not that I’m a tourist who’s paying for the trips with his money.

I’ve been to the northern part of this country. In fact, I’ve been to the north and I’ve also been to the core north. Trust me, there’s a big difference between the two. If you’ve been to Abuja, Kaduna or even Nassarawa, you surely know the north. If you’ve however travelled through Sokoto, Katsina or even Kebbi, then you’re at liberty to talk about the core north.IMG_20160208_142116[1]

Having spent all my life in the South, I grew up with some incorrect, sometimes absurd, information about the northerners. Permit me to highlight briefly the ten things you probably don’t know about the Hausas.

  • All Northerners Are Not Hausas

Wrong idea! Many of you assume unnecessarily that anyone from the north is/must be a Hausa. Meanwhile, a Fulani man can beat you up if you refer to him as a Hausa man.

  • Daura Is The Spiritual Home Of The Hausas

You know the relevance of Ile-Ife to the yorubas, right? Same applies to Daura (Buhari’s hometown). The Hausa kingdom began as seven states inhabited by Hausa-speakers. These are known as the true Hausas. They are: Daura, Kano, Katsina, Zaria, Gobir, Rano and Biram. The other half of the kingdom was called the Banza Bakwai (Bastard or Bogus seven). They are: Zamfara, Kebbi, Yauri, Gwari, Kwararafa, Nupe and Ilorin.

  • The Core North Is Hot

Sokoto is the Federal Capital of Planet Mercury. And am not even exaggerating. Of course, this might not be a breaking news but trust me, the hotness is in HD. I once took a bike ride, expecting to receive fresh air (breeze) once the bike was in motion. OYO was just my case! The “breeze” hitting my body was like the steam of a locomotive train. When it rains, it herald heat, when it’s cold, it’s also in excess.

  • An Average Hausa Man is Honest

Honesty is still a virtue to a typical Hausa man. While in Daura, I got to realize that you can call an Okada man, give him a download of groceries you intend to buy in the market, hand the money over to him and go to bed. He’ll surely bring your goods to you and hand over the exact change! Hypothetically speaking, the word Gaskia (Truth) is held sacred. When a seller tells you Gaskia, believe me, he can’t/won’t sell below that price.

  • Don’t Drink But Smoke

Following the tenets of Islam, drinking alcohol is usually considered a taboo. As such, most beer shops are located outside the cities and towns. But Smoking is allowed. And people here can smoke the light out of a floodlight! I’ve seen a family where all the members share smoke sticks. The total number of people that smoke in the south east still won’t half the number of smokers in Kano alone. In addition, the constant abuse of codeine is a menace the government battle daily. Add Shisha, and the party is just about to commence.

  • The 10:00am Golden Rule

Kano is the commercial center of the north. But business activities don’t start here till 10:00am in any given day. Forget the “Lagos doesn’t sleep” syndrome of the West or the “24/7 hustle spirit” of the East. Kano sleeps comfortably when it’s time to and guess what? Millions, if not billions, exchange hands in singer market and the other big markets daily.

  • The Smuggling Business

In certain areas in Katsina and Sokoto state, the best buildings you’ll see in the towns are Filling Stations. Houses are built with muds in the villages yet “beautiful” filling stations are scattered all around. My curiosity led me to a shocking discovery. Most of the filling stations smuggle the fuel into Niger Republic and sell, thereby making a 100% increase in profit. The “Oyel blood money” is also been spent here and it’s the quickest way the elites are getting rich.

  • Foreign Haven

You’ve been told that many foreigners live in Jos. You’ve also heard that it’s because of the cool weather in J-town. You should also know that many foreigners live in Kano too and they own almost all the eateries in the city. They mix with the locals well and feel safe. Unlike the South-South, the fear of kidnappers barely exist.

  • Mutilated Spenders

If there’s one thing the Yorubas are good at, it’s the idea of rejecting the Naira note the moment a little dent is on it. “The #100 sign is not showing well below”, the old pepper-seller will shout at you. “Why is the CBN Governor signature not clear”, the Danfo conductor will scream loud. But a trader in the north will collect the mutilated money from you so far it’s a Naira and genuine.

  • The North is Safe

Boko haram, Yes! I know. They kill, kidnap and rape girls but it’s majorly in Borno. The greater part of the north is safe. The people are friendly and quite hospitable.


Those are some of my thoughts for today. As usual, feel free to share yours with me in the comment section.