Being interviewed by Aloted

I have a good friend, Victoria Oruwari, who is visually impaired. She is very unhappy about an interview that was posted in a Lagos newspaper, which portrayed her in a light she didn’t really like. What can she do? Especially as she typed her name in Google recently and found that the interview had moved to 7th place on the entries under her name. It used to be in 10th place. She says it means more people are reading it.

I realise that by writing this, I may be persuading more people to read the interview, pushing it even higher up, … that is if it is true that the more people read a story, the more popular it is. However, I write this because of my perception of journalists who interview people. I look at it as a game, the journalist is trying to sell a newspaper and the interviewee is trying to sell his/her image. Sometimes, (but very rarely) their interests coincide, but only sometimes. I haven’t seen a newspaper hurt by an interview, except in the libel courts. But I have heard of many complaining interviewees.

I suppose Itoo have suffered a little in this game. On 15 May, 1987, a Nigerian newspaper published an interview with 5 visually impaired students of the University of Lagos. I was one of the interviewees; I remember wondering how all 5 of us said the same things, yet the newspaper managed to find a different angle for each of us. I was portrayed as the cultured one, dressed in branded clothes. I recall that one of the most importantthings I said from the angle of the interviewee was that I had a girlfriend. Another friend of mine was portrayed as the troublemaker and his observations on the inaccessible entrance to Mariere hall was prominent. I too had noted this point, but my own observations received less coverage.

I don’t know how this interview affected the sales of the Sunday Concord, but it had two effects on the visually impaired community of Unilag. First, we were all called to meet some senior officials of the university and warned not to bring the name of the university into disrepute. The open ditch outside the entrance to Mariere hall remained till I left, I still encountered it while visiting some friends in the mid1990s.

On a positive note, a lecturer set up a fund which procured equipment for some visually impaired students. Professor Abiola Ojo died suddenly a few years ago, and I wrote a short post about his good works. http://notion.wordpress.com/2009/01/17/104/

I write all this because I’ve been interviewed again. Actually, this was very different. You can read all about it at http://alotedbabe.blogspot.com and this time, I hope you enjoy it. Aloted has done what all journalists should do, put down word for word what the interviewee has said. That way, she doesn’t get accused of manipulating my words. Of course, it helps that she’s a really good friend and wouldn’t want to distort anything I say, just to achieve increased readership of her blog. To tell the truth, she made no claims of being a journalist, which is a good thing. For that reason, if you don’t like the piece, blame me, I confess they’re all my words, except for the questions and the title.

I’m not sure this was planned, but Aloted’s blogpost came out a day before the international day for disabled people. In your own way, you increased awareness of disability, thanks Aloted.

But even with full responsibility, do I feel better about the interview? First, I feel really humbled and honoured that Aloted (and now her readers who have commented on the story) think I have something to say. At the same time, I’m not really sure I said it as well as I should. Maybe I sounded like one of those pompous ones who think they have a philosophy to spread. Maybe I went on for much too long (like I’m doing now). Maybe a more critical reader than myself would come up with some analysis that doesn’t put me in such a good light after all.

First confession, Although I agreed readily to the interview, I sat on it for a while. I suppose I was a little ambivalent, but here’s the second confession, having answered the questions, I’m curious for reaction.

For all that she’s not a professional journalist, Aloted asks searching questions. She made me really consider what I was saying. Maybe this is the way a real professional should go about it, put the actual views of the interviewee. I still don’t want to give the wrong impression about myself. Maybe responding to interview questions is like dressing up. You know when you’re leaving the house that people are looking at you. You may want to create the impression of a sharp dresser, a cool dude, an area boy or just your ordinary inconspicuous citizen. Whatever you put on, you do it consciously, or at least subconsciously, second guessing what the man on the street is seeing.

I don’t think it’s supersensitive or vain to wonder what you’re thinking after you’ve read Aloted’s piece. If I didn’t say it very well there, here’s all I really wanted to communicate. I’m visually impaired, but I have faith and hope. There’s a lot to learn about visual impairment, but there’s also a lot for visually impaired people to learn about sighted people. Understanding each other is the key to all the improvements we desire. I want to, and I can live a full life, and I’d love you all to join me in it. I know there’s much more, because each person is so multidimensional, a few words can’t do sufficient justice. So perhaps I shouldn’t bother trying to explain myself to you, I just can’t manage it after all. But if you don’t think it strange, let me know what you think of the interview.

God bless.

10 Years Ago

Today is another of those days when people are asking, “where were you this time, 10 years ago”. There are so many programmes, so many memories, so many stories. I suppose if I add another one, nobody would bother to read it, especially if they’ve read so many other more dramatic ones.

It seems to me that there are three kinds of connections to 9 11. There were those who were tragically caught up in the event, either because they were in the aircraft, or in the buildings. Those who are in that category can only tell us what happened if they survived it. Others were caught up in the aftermath, either as decision makers, rescue workers, or even as travellers. The third group comprises everyone else, those who were at work, were at home, were at play, were doing something when … “the latest from New York is that a plane has crashed into the World Trade Centre …” and suddenly, they all knew that things would never be the same again.

at 11:40 AM, I was in an aeroplane, taking off from Heathrow airport to visit my sister in Washington. With me was her 5 year old daughter; I was looking forward to a 2 week holiday to celebrate my recent doctorate, she was looking forward to being spoiled. Our expected arrival time in DC was 3 PM local time, but by 11:40 (DC time) I knew we weren’t going there.

I would have remembered the flight anyway, because the captain was one of the friendliest I’ve ever met. As we prepared for takeoff, he told us we were gong past the specially designated area for Concorde, which was undergoing tests after one of them had crashed. The final decision on its fate hadn’t been taken then. I thought “what a friendly guy”. Then we took off. It was a Boeing 767, and it was one of the smoothest takeoffs I’ve ever experienced. Indeed, the landing was smooth too, and takeoff and landing 2 days later. I think it must be a 767 thing, because the next time I travelled in one it was just the same.

Then our friendly captain informed us that we were going to have to make an emergency landing. You can imagine the thoughts that went through my head before he told us that he had very little information, but the US airspace was closed. Closed? Why? We didn’t know, not even when we landed in a usually empty airstrip in Newfoundland, I think it was called Stevensville. We sat in the aircraft We sat in the aircraft, being fed information by the captain, until about 7 AM the next morning, UK time. I hadn’t changed my watch settings yet, but I believe Newfoundland is 3 and a half hours behind UK time. And as we got more information, I had to explain to a 5 year old that some very bad people had done something really bad and that meant we couldn’t yet see her mommy.

I was glad to get off that aircraft, even though the security was tight at this unknown airstrip. I think they kept us waiting while they assembled the people who would process us in. It wasn’t only that it was cramped, it was also that I, the great follower of news stories was, for once, almost completely in the dark. In that confined space, rumours were flowing; Someone even said that nuclear war was under consideration. Maybe everyone else was in the dark too, but how was I to know. I had access to one of those expensive aircraft phones, the one you had to pay using a credit/debit card. I kept trying to ring my sister in DC and failing. It was only about half an hour before we disembarked that it occurred to me that the US was probably the most difficult place to reach. So I rang a friend in London and finally got information about what had happened, what governments and people were saying, and crucially, who had contacted my sister.

Eventually, we got off, were met by the Canadian Red Cross, were bused to a little town called Cornerbrook. The Canadian government and people were just wonderful. We stayed in some hotel and were given full access to the telephone to ring our families. We could watch television and actually find out what happened. A lovely lady from social services, who acted as a volunteer, took my niece and I out to buy some clothes, as ours were still in the plane. Her dad came along too, she even brought her boyfriend to meet us. On the morning of the 13th, we returned to London, despite my loud protests. I knew the captain was right, security meant we couldn’t go to the States, but I wasn’t thinking rationally. I just wanted it to be over and for life to continue. I wanted to relax again. Besides, my 5 year old niece had heard enough about bad people and wanted to be with her mum. The good captain came to me in the middle of the return flight and spoke to me and my niece. It was a calmer talk, because I was resigned to returning to London. BA took us to a hotel, and eventually, on the 15th, we were headed back to Washington.

My thanks goes to you (Cornerbrook residents) forever. Maybe I’ll come visit, a proper visit this time, not one forced on us by “very bad people” who wouldn’t let my niece see her mother.

I’ve done a lot of reading about that day, mostly from the political angle. That doctorate, it was in international politics, and my area of interest was Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction and the UN efforts to remove them. I knew about weapons of mass destruction, if of a different type. I knew of government foreign policy, damaged national pride and all that. I’d read enough about terrorism and anti-American feelings among some elements in the Middle East and predominantly muslim world. This was terrorism, it was the use of a weapon of mass destruction, and it had the hallmarks of anti-American feeling, but in every other respect, it was unprecedented. I suspected even then that an unprecedented act was likely to lead to unprecedented reactions.

I sat on that plane, wondering what would happen. My knowledge scared me; You can’t imagine what was going through my mind. I remembered that the good thing about Canada is that it’s foreign policy stance is quieter than the States, and if there was an international explosion of violence, it was probably safe to be in Canada. But if security meant that we couldn’t ever get to DC, would I have to remain in Canada with my niece for an indefinite period? How would I manage, as a single blind man with my 5 year old niece, if things really god bad? What if the unthinkable happened, and those rumours about nuclear war were true?

When you’re in an aircraft in the middle of nowhere, with limited information, but sufficient knowledge of international relations to conjure worst case scenarios, that’s the sort of thing you think about. I think there is a time for rational thought, but that wasn’t it. And I couldn’t get over the thought that I was flying. Never mind that it was domestic flights that were hijacked. I was actually in the air, and one aircraft is as good as another for hurling at a building.

I didn’t want to write about international relations, not today. Everyone else is doing that. I wanted to write about something I really knew about. I could never tell what was happening outside the aircraft, and I’ve learned that nobody ever truely understands those high sounding things like foreign policy and strategic thinking. Too many others are involved, nobody has the full picture. Why should I speculate when I can write of what I know.

This week, it occurs to me that the American open tennis tournament is on. I tried to remember if it was on then, it’s the same city, New York, if it’s in a different location, Queens. I can’t remember, perhaps because I was too busy working on my viva, then getting ready for a holiday. But when I once again focussed on the news, I heard that the Rider Cup, which was supposed to have been held that year, (probably about that time) was cancelled. I’m trying to remember the news stories around that time. For someone so normally clued up on international relations, I can’t remember a thing. It just goes to show how some things can overshadow everything else. Come to think of it, do I still remember any of the world leaders of that time? Apart from President Bush and Prime Minister Blair, I’m not sure I remember who was in power in any of the other permanent members. Was it Shirac in France? Putin or Yeltsin in Russia? I’m sure I can’t remember who was in charge in China.

Have we learned anything in 10 years? I heard of a guy, he spoke at the memorial service this morning. He said he’d decided to be a forensic scientist after he’d lost his dad on that day. It was so moving. Then I heard that there were 3000 people being remembered as victims of those terrorist attacks. The same guy who said this on radio also said the US had lost 6000 people in Iraq and Afghanistan as a result of the war on terror. The US is in a state of high security alert right now. It all happened 10 years ago, but the effects are still here, in the mourning, the foreign policy, the memories.

I can write of my apprehensions, or the shock of full realisation, long after most others had fully grasped what had happened. I can write of my friends, with total gratitude. I heard later of those who started ringing round asking each other “wasn’t Ife supposed to be travelling today?” I know of how my sister worried. As a doctor, she was on standby. But that didn’t stop her pestering everyone she could. She knew I was going to the Comfort Inn in Cornerbrook, even before I got off the plane.

And all my friends who knew how to reach my sister, they just kept calling. She thinks you’re all angels … I know better, but I haven’t felt it necessary to disabuse her. (joke). Someone rang my sister and said “if there’s any place where there’s trouble, you can be sure Ife would be there”, then realising it was the wrong thing, she added “and if anyone is going to get out, you can be sure he will”. Thanks for that vote of confidence. I wish you could have told me that when I was on the plane. I just needed to hear that everything would be all right.

I was listening to a play about the Caesars. One of the characters said that a historian wishes he was there, when the event occurred, but a wise person wishes they weren’t there at all. Strangely, I always thought of myself as the historian, the one who would grab the radio whenever there was something happening … but this time? No thanks. I spoke to my niece, she still remembers the day. She remembers the people who helped, and the fellow passengers. I didn’t tell her that passengers and aircrew told me that she was the best behaved 5 year old they’d ever met. I was so proud of her, but she’s a teenager now. She’s still the best behaved teenager I know, but I don’t have that much experience of that.

And finally. On Sunday 16 September 2001, as we prepared to go to church in Washington DC, I was doing my thing, listening to the radio. I always take a radio with me to every city and spend hours going through the stations until I pick my favourites. America is good for that, there are so many stations.

But back to my story. I heard a 5 minute monologue from a pastor. I don’t know who he is, so I can’t attribute this statement, but I’ve never forgotten it. He said “God is SAFE”. God is
Sovereign;
Actively working for the victory of good over evil
Focussing us on the truth, that we could never exist without Him;
Encouraging us in His word.

I learned something good from that terrible day.

Where’s my Strategic predictor Ball

Every Friday, I listen to the news to find out the latest in the Arab world. I once said I wasn’t really that bothered, but I confess that my curiosity is getting the better of me. It seems that most Arabs now have to think on a Friday morning about their day. Would they be out on the streets demonstrating, would they be cowering in their homes, afraid of reprisals, or would they be part of the security that’s violently suppressing growing discontent.

Hey! What’s happening in the Middle East and North Africa? Tunisia and Egypt have already lost their longstanding leaders. In Tunisia, he’s facing trial in his absence, while the new government is seeking his extradition from Saudi Arabia. In Egypt, it’s Mubarak and his sons, detained while investigation proceeds.

But there’s more. In Libya, the survival of the Ghadafi regime is at best uncertain, as the West finally get their own back on him for all the trouble he’s caused them in the past. Their support for the rebels is increasing and Western governments are still convincing their citizens that they’re only there temporarily, and in a limited capacity.

For some Reason, to do with serious strategic significance, the West haven’t been as open in their support for the Syrian opposition, but the violent suppression, the growing refugee crisis and so much more is causing serious alarm.

And if you thought that was all, look at Yemen where the president was injured and is receiving treatment in Saudi Arabia. The opposition don’t want him back. And the monarchy in Bahrain is only in place because it’s being propped up by brother kings in the region. Those are the ones you hear about all the time, but in Jordan, Morocco, and so many other countries, there have been, or there still is, violent and nonviolent opposition to the regime.

Things people hoped for but never dared to expect are happening to citizens of the Arab world. So, all the strategic thinkers were wrong to suppose that Mubarak would remain in power for as long as he likes, because Egypt always had the support of the US and was seen as the Arab guarantor of the Middle Eastern peace arrangement. Ghadafi had already outlasted so many Western leaders, who generally left office after losing elections. He never had to worry about that. Neither did the monarchs.

It’s a brave thing to oppose a regime that’s known to brutalise its citizens. That’s why so many of the analysts were wrong, they thought it would be asking too much of them. And since so many have been proved wrong, who am I to make any predictions at this time. Yet, I suspect that the Libyan regime will probably fall eventually, because Western support will continue to increase, and these days, Libya has few allies. I gather that many observers believe the Syrian regime will just about survive, but who am I to say. If it falls, what will replace it? I think that’s the real fear now. And so long as the Arabs continue to support Bahrain’s king, he’s likely to remain in power, regardless of the will of the majority of its citizens. And the democratic West will of course complain about human rights abuses but in this case, they’ll leave the Arabs to sort out their business. How different from Libya.

The more important question is what this will mean in several years. What will happen to those countries where the regime has changed. Several decades ago, there was similar change, this time, removing monarchies in Iraq, Egypt and Libya. And the popular uprisings resulted in dictatorships that soon became oppressive and made life difficult for the West. However, the transformation of Egypt from Pro Soviet, Anti Israeli Arab champion to Pro-Western champion of Arab Israeli peace shows that a regime change does not guarantee that the new government’s strategic alliances will remain the same, given a number of years. Similarly, the results of support for Iraq in its war with Iran and Osama, who was heavily involved in the anti Soviet campaign in Afghanistan shows that support for the West may not necessarily be guaranteed, just because at some time, a country or a group received Western support to establish itself. These states change their loyalties according to rules which the West has sadly not cared to fully understand.

Is it right to support change on the inconsistent basis of whether the current leader is favoured? Or is it better to have consistent and clearly understood terms that determine who we support? Terms which include how much we know of the opposition?

Whatever happens, give a few years and 2011 will be remembered by people in the Middle East and North Africa. They will discover the extent of people power and how it plays out against state power; their government and all others. They will also know the full implications of the 2011 uprising, just give them a few years to process the events and place it in its true context.

Will the Real MR Dare Aeyaetam own Up?

It all started 3 years back, when I received a letter stating that a car with registration number Y567RPP, registered in his name, at my address, had been involved in a traffic offence. I rang the Met police in London and told them, first that I live in Lancaster, secondly, that I do not know of anyone with that name, and thirdly, that I live alone and it would have been unwise of anyone to issue me with a driver’s license as a person registered blind. The Met said I should forward the letter to them and they’d sort it. I’ve never heard from them since, but I got lots of other things such as unpaid debts, notices of renewal, etc.

And then, it came the turn of Newham Council. I tried the same attitude with them, and they said I should write a formal letter, I did. Next, it was Northampton County Court. That’s where most small claims are heard. I contacted them when I received a notification that judgment had been entered against this guy in my address. I told them the matter was ongoing. They asked if I was registered for electoral purposes as the sole occupant of that address, I said yes. They asked for how long, and I told them since 2004. They assured me the matter was now over.

But I knew it wasn’t, when Bailiffs wrote. I tried the same approach, but these people are more determined. They asked me to contact Newham Borough Council, and I did. Newham said I should contact Parking and Traffic Enforcement in Warrington, I did and even wrote them with all the information I had. I also contacted DVLA in Cardiff to tell them that if this guy ever renewed his license using my address, they should know he doesn’t live here. Did all that help?

Meanwhile, the bailiffs had written again, threatening to seize the car belonging to MR Aeyaetam (reference 12735463) at my address. This would have been such fun! My house is in one of those places, full of cars belonging to workers who don’t want to pay the excessive parking rates in town. Every time I step out of my frontdoor in the morning, I wish someone would tell the car owners that the front of my house belongs to me, even if I (and one guest) have my own private parking space at the rare. Bring on the bailiffs I say.

They actually came from Northampton, but of course, I don’t spend daylight hours waiting for a bailiff, so I wasn’t in. Pity. Every time I contacted them, they treated me as though there was a presumption of guilt, rather than the traditional presumption of innocence. I even sent them a second letter on 1 March 2011, this time, including a bill showing that telephone calls made at this address are made in my name. And after that, they showed up a second time, and again, I wasn’t available. How sad. I was looking forward to handing a car over to them, or having them prove that a visually impaired guy could commit a parking offence in London with a car registered in someone else’s name.

After they visited a second time, and sent nme another letter warning me that they’d be back, I’d had enough. I again sent them a letter with proof that this was indeed my house. I told them that their action was beginning to constitute harassment. I reminded them I had given them my email address and told them that I only read Braille and emails. I believe they got the message, because since 20 April, they haven’t written or called. Or perhaps on a third visit when I wasn’t around, they decided I was avoiding them and seized a car belonging to an innocent person.

I suppose it’s asking too much to expect an apology via email, or at the very least, an acknowledgement of my letter and the return of my telephone bills. One day, even bailiffs might learn about customer service. In these days when there’s such noise about identity fraud, I would have thought that such people might note that not everyone is a criminal.

As for you, mr Dare Aeyaetam, (or whatever your name is) I pray that you are eventually prosecuted for overspeeding in the jurisdiction of Newham Borough Council. If that happens, I hope they also prosecute you for stealing my address, but giving that neither the Met, Newham Council, Parking and Traffic Enforcement, DVLA, Northampton Court, or even our dear Equita Certificated bailiffs of Northampton have ever acknowledged my letters, perhaps you might just get away. How sad.

You would have noticed of course that I have made it a habit of opening mails addressed to you, I am really sorry. I always give all letters to sighted helpers, presuming that they belong to me. I should take note that your ghost resides at my address, but if it does, why don’t you ask it to come read the mails and sort this bother out. Perhaps it can take responsibility for your action, or is it as dishonest as you are?

I should write this before it’s too late

A few weeks back, Kui asked me what I thought of the events in Egypt. I guess she expected an intelligent answer from someone who studied the Middle East up to doctoral level. I simply said I wasn’t too bothered. You see, I lose interest when something becomes big news. I like to say I heard this first, I spotted it would be big, but when it becomes big, I just let others talk and think about it. What’s the point? Everyone is talking, so why should I?

Except that her question challenged me to think, so I came up with some vaguely intelligent answer about how it was shaping up to be an interesting development. And now, I’m really interested, because it’s happening in Libya. Libya!

I’ve read so much about Ghadafi that I almost feel I know him. I had a friend in secondary school who thought his revolutionary brand of leadership was the best. He could quote from his Green book, (or was it Red book? I can’t remember), describe a system which apparently worked to deliver grassroots democracy. In secondary school, we didn’t question what we read by influential leaders. And of course, in the 80s, there was that American raid on Libya. Anyone remember that now?

I remember the first time I actually heard his voice. It was on Channel 4 (or was it BBC? I forget again) on the day the liberation of Kuwait began. The reporter had asked him a question and he began to respond in Arabic. This reporter simply said “Colonel Ghadafi, I know you speak English and you did promise to co-operate” or something to that effect. I was just about to ask aloud how they could know that Ghadafi was comfortable speaking English when he began to speak in english. I just thought “he’s playing games with journalists, what a cool guy”.

The Lockerbie bokb had of course happened, but I don’t think Libya had been clearly fingered as the culprit. And in any case I didn’t have a clear idea of what might have been going on in the country. The world was concerned with the collapse of communism and the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait and Ghadafi needed some limelight and an opportunity to show that he could still play with journalists.

And now, throughout the Arab world, people are taking to the streets and protesting. I believe the basic problem is that people are unhappy with political systems that do not deliver what the ordinary person wants in these tough economic times. The fact that some of these regimes are also authoritarian simply adds an extra factor to the causes of unrest. And perhaps that affects the results too. The regimes in both Tunisia and Egypt were well known to be repressive and they’ve gone. On the other hand, the monarchies in Morocco, Jordan and even Bahrain are still surviving, despite the heavyhanded measures of the Bahrainis.

Here’s something I’d observed earlier when speaking to a friend. Before Ghadafi blamed Bin Laden (and a reporter pointed out that he always argued that Bin Ladin was a figment of American imagination) I’d remarked on how revolution was sweeping across the Middle East. In the 80s, when communism fell, there were mass movements n several Eastern European countries; but we all knew that the states in question were united in ideology and subservience to the Soviet Union. Here, we’re seeing these movements in very diverse countries and seemingly without co-ordination.

It is probably in the context of this diversity that we see the unusually brutal reaction of the Libyan leader. In all other countries, the sheer numbers of people coming to demonstrate convinced the leaders that it was time to offer concessions; and when the concessions were deemend by the populace as unwanted, the leaders had to step down. Interestingly, although these leaders were considered authoritarian in their own countries, they were allies of Western democracies. Maybe their standing in the West helped to smooth the transition in those countries. I already observed that monarchies have remained in position, in Morocco, Jordan and Bahrain, though concessions are now being granted to meet popular demands for change. Libya is however not a friend of the West, whatever anyone may say about how the jailed Libyan agent secured his freedom. In fact, Ghadafi made political capital from his antiWestern stance. He was authoritarian at home and forceful abroad, and some who hailed him did not realise thee effect of both parts working together. Now we can see it clearly; the first question I asked when I heard of Libya’s insurrection was how long it had been going on before the newsmen got to know?

And now, in the light of the recent reports of chaos in Tripoli airport, I ask another question, dear to my heart. If Europeans are bringing out their citizens, what about Nigerians? Is anyone trying to get them out? Because I know there must be Nigerians in Libya, they’re everywhere.

Who knows, by tomorrow, the question may be unnecessary and Ghadafi may be hanging from a pole in the streets of Tripoli. For he knows very well that having decided to stay and fight, he must either win or die in the struggle. If he’s caught, the people he has so recently treated so brutally will not be forgiving.

It’s on now: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe

The first run of any play always gives the producer the chance to see how it actually works in public performance. On Thursday, Whirlwind Theatre staged the first night of “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe” at the Storeys in Lancaster. On that day, we were still waiting for some of the props we needed. They’d been held up by the very bad weather of the past weeks. We’d only had limited use of the staging area on Tuesday and Wednesday and had to work around school times. An several children had never actually acted publicly before. Whirlwindtakes children from 6 years, and I know there were 6 and 7 year olds in the production.

But you wouldn’t have known all that,watching them. I thought some might be nervous, but as I watchd them, my heart was filled with such pride. We’d worked with them for over 18 months on this one, and now, here they were, coming on stage and loving it. In my last report, I’d said how we only rehearsed once a week, rather than the 3 week intensive rehearsals of previous shows.

Yesterday’s showing was even better. If you’re in Lancaster, you can still watch the performance this afternoon at 2 and this evening at 6.30. But you need to visit the Whirlwind theatre website http://www.whirlwindtheatre.org.uk
to book tickets. You’ll see an amazing array of masks, including that of Aslan, the beavers, grumpskins and lots of others.

It’s a great show, but for those who have been doing this every Saturday since the middle of last year, its just special. And if you’ve been working with Whirlwind for that many years, well, what can I say? I’ve watched children grow to be great actors and great people. We even have our own in-house jokes now.

The witch (who thinks she’s queen of Narnia) is now fondly known as the qwitch. I can’t even remember who coined the name, we all just call her qwitch now. She’s an excellent actor by the way. She learned her lines before anyone else, and now delivers them with a certainty that belies her 12 years. I always joke with Qwitch that I get to kill her. She just seems to enjoy the torture she gives me, I need to remind her that it’s only temporary.

At the end of October, I interviewed the qwitch and Susan on my gospel hour. I was amazed at how easy the interview was. In all the time we’d been acting together, we’d actually grown to be really good friends. It was a massive laugh, such great fun. It emerged in that interview that Susan had been in the theatre for as long as I have. She proudly announced that she was the longest serving child member of the theatre. And it shows in her understanding of how we work.

It’s surprising to learn that Whirlwind has been going on for so long. I think the first time I acted was “toad of toadhall” in 2004. This year, I really took time to observe how the older children had really matured into their roles. Organisation was very different. We had only 3 adult actors and for most of the time, apart from Myette who produced the show, no other helpers. The older children just grew into the role of organising the younger ones. And they did it well. When I ran some of the games, I watched the older child actors organising the younger ones into circles, even running some of the games themselves.

For me, it’s much more than the play, it’s about character building. If you see the play, you’ll see great acting, but if you look deeper, see its making, you’ll se growth, learning and fun. Do come and watch.

Whirlwind is back

It was probably during the halfterm, or perhaps it was Easter. Anyway, one Monday morning, I stood with my sword, then aimed for Mike’s head. I didn’t miss, but he parried brilliantly, then attacked me. But I too was quick. As soon as his sword started to move, I was ready with mine and having blocked his attacked, resumed my own. This carried on for a while … and it was fun.

Because it wasn’t a real fight at all. It was the first day of the swordfighting workshop organised by Whirlwind Theatre. I’ve often written about the benefits of Whirlwind Theatre for the children. It’s great to work with the children, to watch them grow, even to see how my own acting skills have improved. This time was different. Was it three years ago that I first did something more than singing and moving around? It was the song “build a wall” in the Selfish giant. I took my first tentative steps towrds acting in a choreographed scene when, while singing, I did a little dance and moved the wall into place. But if I thought I’d faced the ultimate challenge, the dances in “around the pond in 80 days” were even more difficult; and add to that the changes of character. I started as a frog, moved on to be the king of the toads, then a newt, then returned to my original role. Playing Brilliant in “Brilliant the dinosaur” had its challenges too, not the least of which was that multi tasking scene where I had to keep the head of the dinosaur in place, sing, walk and lead a group of children in single file. Then, of course, I had to die, while still holding the dinosaur.

This time, the powers that be have decided that I’m playing Aslan. It turned out that although I took full part in the fight workshop, I’m not required to use my sword in the actual play. Pity, I could have shown off my newly acquired skills. I do have to kill the witch at the end, but that’s with my claws, not the sword.

Oh we had 6 and 7 year olds with swords as well. but before you conjure those images of decapitated children, be reassured that although we were taught how to handle our swords, they were not real. And although they can indeed injure, the children were really good. Those who have been with Whirlwind for a while have had the need to take care of stage props drummed into their heads. We sing it to them, play games, etc, just so that everyone knows that we have to work together and support each other.

This year is different in another respect. We’ve now been rehearsing for well over a year. We must have started early in 2009. It’s been 2 hours every week; this means that the children have learned slowly, but we hope more deeply.

There is a fight scene at the end of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and you do need to see it and marvel at how good these children are. But you also need to see the story; I’ve become more familiar with it than ever before. Of course, we all know it’s a story about Christ, and in that alone, Whirlwind has taken its first step into real Christian territory. I’m always struck by the scene in the play where the children go off to the professor to report that Lucy is talking nonsense. The professor asks why they think so and they say she’s been talking about a wardrobe and strange animals. They also remark that she says Edmund has also seen these things, but Edmund denies seeing any strange creatures. So professor asks them whom they would normally have believed. They respond that normally, they’re more likely to believe Lucy. What would I do if I heard something that was really strange and could only have come from God? Would I try to explain it away or even deny it?

Enough. What I really wanted to say is that this year, it’s staged in a different venue. Although King’s Community Church has been refurbished, (the work was going on as the play was being planned) the play is being staged at the Storey’s Institute, near the castle, in Lancaster. It’s the 9th, 10th and 11th of December. I gather there are two performances on the 11th. You can see the details at the Whirlwind Theatre website, http://www.whirlwindtheatre.org.uk So if you’d like to hear me roar, watch me kill the witch, and watch the amazing swordfight, the children playing all sorts of animals, with masks that some of them made, then please come and see.

Our nation of dog lovers

So, a happy new month to you all. July was pretty busy, so busy that I have no entry here, but finally, on the last day, I decided I’d missed blogging enough.

It happened about 10 AM as I crossed a road, about a minute from home. I was dressed for summer, in a pair of slippers, then … I’d put my foot in it, a pile of dog mess, dog dirt, … it’s called by different names, but you know what it is.

Fortunately, a woman who was walking towards me (coincidentally with her dog, but I’m sure it wasn’t her) took me to some grass, ensured that my slippers and feet were again fit for the road and showed me past the mess. All the time, we both complained about irresponsible dog owners and their total disregard.

I remember a few years back, watching telly with my cousin in Manchester. This story came up on the local news about a man who had been investigated by the RSPCA and convicted for maltreating some dogs in his care. His neighbour spoke on television, saying that if she ever laid hands on him she’d happily kill him. I bet this woman would be one of the first in the queue to support a continuation of the ban on capital punishment.

Maybe it’s just me and my lack of emotion, but I think sometimes, there’s a kind of irrationality when it comes to animals. The UK is often proudly described as a nation of animal lovers, sometimes, a nation of dog lovers. Although I have a lot of friends now, I’ve been told I’d make even more if I had a dog. But sometimes, when I watch people and their dogs, or even people with other people’s dogs, I wonder. I hear people describing their dogs as members of their family … “mummy loves you beautiful dog” coming from a daughter of the family. And I once heard that the Guide Dogs Association for the Blind is one of the richest charities in the country.

I know I’d meet a few random people if I have a guide dog. People walk up to my friends with dogs and go “oh you’ve got a lovely dog! can I stroke him/her?” To tell the truth, it’s a distraction if you’re walking through a busy street, but it’s never stopped anyone. Some even try to feed the dog, constituting an even bigger problem. I’ve watched blind people accept this calmly or fly off the handle, but so far, I’ve never seen any longlasting relationships formed because someone had a guide dog. And if you’re reading this, it’s against all guide dog ethics to stroke one who is working. If the other blind people don’t tell you, it’s because they’re in a polite mood, the manuals told them so, their guide dog trainers told them, but it’s just too difficult to tell everyone who asks.

It’s not that I don’t love dogs. I’ve always grown up with them and may even have one soon, though never as a guide dog. I wonder how many dogs could cope with my travel. But back in Nigeria, even if I knew that a dog is man’s best friend, I also knew the difference between a pet and a son/daughter. And my dogs were strictly pets, to be loved as such.

I’m sure I’ve told everyone who cares that I’d prefer a dog to a cat or a rabbit. A cat once sneaked up to my plate of food and started eating. Cats and rabbits just jump on me when I visit my friends. I’d be sitting calmly discussing the weather or the new price of a tin of beans, when … land! I’d jump, startled, frighten the poor animal, and if it was a cat, get scratched for my efforts. At least, with a dog, you know where they are all the time. Mind you, you know where your pet fish are too, but what could I do with fish? Just watch them swim in a tank? How?

But if a dog is a member of the family, then I have to ask, would you let your child do what that dog did yesterday? I once read that the opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. So, if you were indifferent to your dog’s personal habits, do you love the dog? Or perhaps do you love the dog so much and care so little for humans? Remember the lady who would shoot a man for maltreating dogs.

It would have just been a rant, if this was the first time it ever happened to me. But I’m really sad to say, it’s not. I live near a river, a good walk for dogs. The road is quiet because, although it’s near a busy road, it’s blocked off. So, right outside my door, many dogs have decided that their toilet time is due, and the owners haven’t bothered to go to the grass verge near the river.

When I hear about people who cannot control their dogs, or that a third of dogs in the UK are obese, or that dog owners don’t understand the first rules of dog toilet training, I wonder how much we are a nation of dog lovers. One day, two dogs started barking loudly and coming towards me. I stood perfectly still and talked calmly for a while and they barked around me. Then someone came and called them off remarking that I handled the situation well. I wondered what he was doing allowing them to menace me in the first place. If I’d run, if I’d been attacked, would it not have been the person’s fault? Why did he not stop the dogs.

Back to my situation. I got back home yesterday, but fortunately found a friend to walk me through the situation. I’m just about to head for church and the dog dirt might still be there. Happy new month. If you have a dog, please look after it and remember, humans are more important.

2010 World Cup.

So, it’s finally begun. We’d been eagerly anticipating this day since South Africa was announced as the hosts of the 2010 world cup.

I’ve been following reaction on the radio, on Facebook and Twitter, … and of course, on the telephone. My friends tell me, (and I’m sure they’re wrong) that I always have a phone to my ear. The anticipation is massive. I suppose it’s even greater if you’re African. After all, this is the very first tournament to be hosted in Africa. We’ve got the largest number of teams from Africa than on any previous world cup. Never mind that I once heard that it’s a 6 our flight from Lagos to Johannesburg. You could fly to Europe in that time, but South Africa is in Africa.

Gbenga Sesan, a well known IT expert and social enterprise guru in Nigeria would have addressed us at the 4th International Conference of Nigerian Students in April, but was prevented by the volcanic ash. He wrote on Twitter of how he wished that the passion for football could be replicated in development programmes. Another friend wrote on Facebook of the Tebbit Football Test, referring of course to the cricket test in the 80s. The question is, if England were to play Nigeria, who would I support, or as he put it, will I pass or fail the test?

Unfortunately Sir Norman, I’d have to confess that I might just fail the test. You see, I was born in Nigeria and stayed in that country till close to my 23rd birthday. I have only spent close to 20 years here. I have also heard that you learn the most in your first 6 years. I did all that learning in Nigeria. Who knows what team my children will support? If I have anything to do with it, they will support Nigeria too.

Please bear with me, because it’s a big problem when your team is underperforming, and the English team is doing so well. I remember the 2002 world cup in Japan and Korea. Nigeria and England met in the last game of the group stages. By then, we’d lost our first 2 and England had won their first 2. It was really only academic, but as I listened to that game on the Sunday morning, I knew that very much was hanging on the result. You see, I was getting ready to go to church, to meet all my English friends and I knew what would happen if we lost the third game.

And for once, my boys didn’t disappoint me. They drew, just because they knew what it would have meant to me. There was a massive scare when (I think it was) Scholes took that shot and it would have been a goal, but for some miraculous goalkeeping. In fact, the commentators needed a replay to confirm that the referee was right and that it was a corner kick.

So, after that, I could at least hold my head up and say we drew with England, even if we didn’t progress. And I could safely support England until they met Brazil, while dreaming of the glory days when we were 20 minutes away from beating Italy in US 1994. Italy, you would recall went onto the finals and drew with Brazil, until penalties separated them and the Latin Americans took the cup. Nigeria didn’t even qualify for 2006, but if I recall correctly, England didn’t make it to our most glorious outing in 1994.

To tell the truth, they haven’t been impressive, leading up to this world cup. I watched them at the African nations cup. I think they only played well in the first 25 minutes of the first game against Egypt. After they scored the goal, they went to sleep. Egypt beat the Eagles. When they played against the Bene Republic, I was shocked by our narrow margin of victory. We were used to destroying them, but this time … what a sobering game. When we played Zambia and drew, my heart was in my mouth throughout the penalty shoot-out, but after we won, I knew we had only one more game. Fortunately, it was the semi finals, and although we lost it, we managed to get the third place medals. Or I think we did, because I didn’t even bother listening to that game.

I hear that Nigeria drew 0 0 with Saudi Arabia in a warm up game. We used to be such flamboyant scorers, what happened? Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t let in as many goals as we used to, but this is the world cup. Can we hold out?

I don’t have to write much about England. We all know about their successes, their stars and their injuries. Strangely, Nigeria play Argentina tomorrow and England play the United States a few hours later. A while back I heard a british footbal pundit say that England would probably meet Nigeria in the knock out stages. Nobody is saying that now. But I’m still a Nigerian supporter, with a new coach announced just 3 weeks to the tournament, a scoring record that I could probably better on my own, and the expected squabbles between players and management … even the expected calls for changes in personnel. I can see my dad sitting in front of the telly and screaming the whole house down. He’ll call me when each goal is scored and telephone companies will expect to make a lot of money off the Akintunde family in the next few weeks.

But it’s ok. After all, South Africa surprised everyone, when after playing badly in the first 20 minutes, they scored a cracking first goal and drew their first game. Radio commentators were already predicting a bad first game and tournament. So people, don’t rule Nigeria out yet. I might yet meet my friends after a Nigeria England game.

Elections today!

As my fellow Nigerians mourn the death of their president, (the first time in our history that a president has died in office of natural causes) I’m here in the UK, contemplating whom to vote for.

It’s a serious consideration this time. In 20 years in the UK, I’ve never voted. When someone asked me why, I replied that I could only vote for myself, nobody else can understand my needs as much as I. Besides, even if nobody else trusts me, I trust myself to deliver whatever I can in my interests. But as someone reminded me recently, I may understand myself more than anyone else, but I can’t do anything about it in the huge national picture. What would my understanding do for the NHS, taxes, economy, … lots of things like that.

So, this year, with only a few hours left, I’ve decided to vote, and as I’m not contesting, I won’t be voting for myself. Besides, it’s a right, though some people talk as though it’s a duty. And why should they not, as the election is so closely fought this year. Everyone’s always telling us to vote, otherwise, we lose the right to complain if things don’t go as we planned. But if we vote for the candidate who doesn’t win, we’re in exactly the same position as though we didn’t vote.

No! don’t come up with those arguments, I’ve decided to vote. Next question is for whom? Once, when I asked a candidate to send me his manifesto in braille, he promised to return and I never saw him again. No other candidate has knocked on my door before or since. And I’ve been here for 20 years. I must just be unlucky, judging by what I’ve heard about door-to-door campaigning.

All I’m relying on is what I hear in the national press, and how does that help? The politicians spend as much time talking about the inadequacies of their opponents as they do giving us more and more vague explanations of theirs. In any case, what are the policies? I’ve heard that you can visit some website, write your likes and dislikes and they’d match you up with a party, sort of like a party dating site. A Christian minister (as opposed to the government one) said on radio how a friend was horrified, when he was matched with the BNP. So, I can’t even rely on those either.

But wait! I have two friends who’ve worked with the LDP in two separate constituencies. Maybe I’ll vote LDP then, just as a sympathy vote for my friends who have worked so very hard. There was a time when the LDP vote was considered a tactical one to keep the tories out … but not anymore. This year, they’re serious contenders for government and Nick is probably ironing his suit for the visit to the queen.

And what about Labour. As a blind person, I know what it’s like to say something and have it unexpectedly overheard. If only Gordon had asked me for advice earlier. Maybe I should cast my sympathy vote for him. Poor guy; after 20 minutes with that lady he’d called a bigot, she still said to some journalist that she wouldn’t be voting for anyone. Bad example to someone like me who hasn’t voted in 20 years and is only doing so this year to break the habit. Maybe my vote will replace hers … oh wrong constituency.

Was it a tory activist who was arrested for electioneering fraud the other day? Maybe I should vote for them, I know something about that. It’s always in the news, back in Nigeria. I know I won’t be voting for the BNP, despite their recent announcement that blacks have now been allowed to join the party. How magnanimous of you guys, especially with the wonderful cover up statements I’ve been hearing you make about this reversal in policy. And the smaller parties? Well, all I know is that they’ve spent a bit of time arguing for greater representation in the national television debates. I heard that from the SNP the other day, no doubt others are saying the same things.

Despite the closeness of the race, I gather that 40% of people are like me, undecided. It’s my fault really. The election has crept up on me. I’m always listening to the news, but strangely, I easily get saturated when a news story’s gone on for too long. That’s what’s happened with the elections. But I’ve only got a few hours to decide. Those who don’t read this often won’t even know my worries till it’s too late. Sometime tomorrow, (or if it’s a hung parliament, much later than that) someone will be announcing policies. Will it be my man? I’m off to vote now.

Just one last thought. A friend told me he’d recently been visited by a party door knocker who had confidently asked “so we can count on your vote on Thursday.” My friend had asked in a conspiratorial voice, “can you keep a secret?” to which the door knocker replied “yes”. My friend had then said, “my vote is a secret, that’s why it’s called a secret ballot”.

God bless you as you vote.

So who will take my vote.