Thought Picnic: Quiet Pursuits of Excellence

Quiet Pursuits of Excellence

Sometimes, I reflect on the fact that I lead a number of public lives which revolve around simply doing what I love, without seeking acknowledgement or reward. Something in my upbringing, in the observation of my parents and mentors, drives me towards excellence.

Much as I seek perfection, I quite frequently fall short. I upbraid myself, accuse myself, and talk to myself in a voice that calls me by my own name, because there is a conversation to be had before someone else has it with me. I would rather be my own critic, so as to be prepared to receive a better critique, one of recognition, of merit, and of acknowledgement.

Stories That Once Scared Me

There are stories from my past that frighten me, where the infirmity registered in the ravine of failure offered no opportunity or facility for recovery. It was unsalvageable wreckage, beyond repair, and utterly hopeless.

Yet, I have a better story to tell. No narrative I share today wallows in helpless resignation, for I am blessed beyond measure with testimonies of goodness, success, victory, and triumph.

The Pleasure of Work

At work, I enjoy what I do, not for the remuneration, of which I have once earned stupendously, but for the satisfaction that the knowledge and expertise I bring to bear on the mundane and the complex still matters.

I get to learn as much as I help others learn. I do what I do, not to get noticed, but to make things work. In the process, acknowledgement, respect, and rewards may well come. My motivation, however, is the pleasure.

Appearance and Carriage

In appearance, I have my own kind of dressing, something I pay attention to, because appearance and carriage matter. There have been times when I have been stopped so that pictures could be taken of me.

Once, a young man, after complimenting me, said he would love to have the confidence to dress like me. I suppose hardly a day goes by without some sort of recognition from strangers, and yet I am not out to attract attention. My motivation is simply looking good.

The Wealth of Expression

On this blog, I write about anything that takes my fancy, not for want of engagement or readership. To think there was a time when I hated writing, even though I had a great deal to say in conversation.

I am easily shy, quite introverted, and socially awkward and nervous in organised meetings where people are networking. It is in the use of words that I truly flourish. My motivation is the wealth of expression.

The Story of a Man

What all this says to me is to keep doing what I know to do, in the best possible way, with every aim to impact, improve, and perhaps impress. I will never be everyone's cup of tea, but I hope those who drink this tea enjoy it tremendously.

Decades of work, portrayal, and expression all become the story of a man. Thank you for coming by.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Taking Praise to the Bank

The Grace of Acceptance

In life, whatever you do, whether by nature, through practice, or by good fortune, compliments do not come easily. Perhaps they do for others; however, what matters most is having the grace to accept those encomiums when you have been appreciated.

Yet sometimes familiarity makes praise seem either mundane or biased. I am occasionally embarrassed by how Brian compliments me; the thought crosses my mind that he cannot possibly be talking about me. His words can be effusive and quite adoring. I suppose a sense of modesty suggests it is too much, whilst a feeling of inadequacy implies I have not yet reached the standard for which the applause has been loudest.

An Unexpected Exposure

Then this afternoon, a work conference segued into a conversation between two. Idle banter touched on many things, and then she said, “I found your blog.” She had been searching for information when the results led her to my blog. Shock and surprise on my part brought the realisation that I had been exposed.

However much we try to compartmentalise our lives through secrecy, segmentation, or even sequestration, we can only be so successful when we leave footprints online. I got my first email address in 1994, just as I began a subscription to CompuServe. My identity number is just about to slip from memory in the present — I remember it now.

The Weight of Recognition

Not only had she learnt a great deal about me, in blogs spanning almost 23 years, but she also appreciated my writing: my use of language, and the ease of reading. She enjoyed everything she had read and pleaded with me not to stop blogging. Amid this deluge of compliments, I was close to blushing.

There is no day when I do not receive compliments, usually from strangers, and I respond with thanks. It is different when a colleague at work, who knows you in a particular setting and character, sees another side of your expression and acknowledges, commends, praises, and compliments that aspect of your art. You want to take it to the bank and cash it.

Cashing It In

In this case, I have taken it to the bank of this cache of over 4,250 blogs and cashed it in as an acknowledgement. Brian has always maintained that I can make a blog out of the simplest moments or interactions. This is one of those instances. Thank you—you know who you are.

The Evolution of my Blog from 2003.

A Google NotebookLM AI Audio Overview Discussion of this blog

The Slave Bible - A Closer Look

Another look at the Slave Bible

In my original blog about the Slave Bible yesterday, I expressed muted outrage at the role of the Anglican Bishop of London and his involvement in commissioning the book. Beilby Porteus, the Bishop of London from 1787 to his death in 1809 was a rather different person than I portrayed in my first assessment of the situation.

Blog - The Slave Bible

History would suggest, the bishop was the first in authority to challenge the Anglican Church’s stance on slavery in a concerted campaign that lasted almost three decades. He was an abolitionist who stated his case in sermons and in the House of Lords, long before the cause became popular.

The bishop was an abolitionist

In his advocacy, he was concerned about the plight of about 300 slaves on the Codrington Plantations in Barbados that was bequeathed to the Church of England in the early 18^th Century and was overseen by the Archbishop of Canterbury and a committee of Church of England bishops.

From the time he was Bishop of Chester through when he was translated to the bishopric of London, Bishop Porteus worked with slavery abolitionists, and much was made of the fact that disease and maltreatment led to the death of about 40% of the slaves within three years of their arrival that the slave cohort needed constant replenishment from West Africa.

Besides these myriad issues, the bishop was desirous of proselytising the slaves and this must have informed his decision to commission an abridged bible for the slaves of the British West-Indies, as one of the most passionate advocates for the cause of the slaves, he by default assumed responsibility for their spiritual welfare. I can conclude from this reading of history that Bishop Beilby Porteus was neither malevolent nor evil.

Between the marketing and the product

A careful reading of what pertains to the content of the Slave Bible requires nuance over the sensational reductive view that essential parts of bible history were expunged. We can attribute this view to the publicity machinery of The Museum of the Bible (MOTB), which has had its share of controversy and scandal in terms of the provenance and integrity of exhibit acquired for display at the museum.

An academic assessment of the assertion of the MOTB would suggest a variance from the reality. The writer purports an exaggeration by the MOTB when in fact the book does contain verses of liberation as much as some pertaining to slavery were left out. Though the compendium leaves out the book of Revelation, it is not bereft of eschatological hope expressed in other epistles of Apostle Paul. [The Revealer: The “Slave Bible” is Not What You Think]

It would appear Bishop Porteus is both misrepresented and vilified by the MOTB to whatever ends of widening the participation of visitors to the museum beyond its evangelical roots. As I can only offer commentary on the reported events and observations along with not having access to the said Slave Bible to verify any of the claims, my only shocking discovery is to learn that such a book existed, the circumstances around which the book was published are quite different and open to debate.

Where history leaves us

It is obvious from the onset that the bishop met with both deaf ears and opposition to his abolition quest, as Founder of the Society for the Conversion and Religious Instruction and Education of the Negro Slaves, “envisioned a collection that expanded beyond biblical texts and included liturgy for public worship.” It is questionable whether the result achieved that aim.

However, while certain abridged versions of the bible available today as excerpts of the Psalms, Proverbs, or mainly the New Testament of the Gideon bibles found in the bedroom drawers of international hotel chains have not suffered the manipulation and cannibalisation of the Slave Bible, the motive in its origin seems both honest and malign to our reading today.

What cannot be disputed is the Anglican Church of England was integral, participatory, and a beneficiary of the evils of the slave trade and slavery. 

The Slave Bible

A grandiose title

“Select Parts of the Holy Bible for the use of the Negro Slaves in the British West-India Islands”, otherwise known as the Slave Bible, a heavily redacted version of the bible that removed about 90% of the Old Testament and 10% of the New Testament. [Wikipedia: Slave Bible]

It emphasised every need for the slave to know their place and removed references that gave any sense of emancipation or freedom to the slave reader. Imagine a book purporting to be a Christian bible without the Exodus story or the Psalms commissioned in the early nineteenth century by the Anglican Bishop of London, in the same year of the enactment of the Slave Trade Act of 1807 for the abolition of slavery.

I learnt of this malevolent piece of evil propaganda masquerading as religious text, reading the first chapter of the book we are sharing for Lenten studies in the Church of England this year. Wild Bright Hope: Reflections on Faith - The Big Church Read Lent Book 2025 has twelve voices and perspectives on hope, life, experiences and what a revelation the first two chapters were. [The Big Church Read]

It was very profitable

I realised how the transatlantic slave trade thrived visiting The Maritime Museum – Het Scheepvaartmuseum in Amsterdam, over twenty years ago. I saw the profit ledger, a human cargo of slaves with the loss of 10% after accounting for all costs, including the ship and voyage, yielded stupendous profits, and that was the value slave owners placed on acquiring cheap or free labour.

Even after multiple visits to the International Slavery Museum in Liverpool (currently closed for renovation), I was not as moved as that other experience in Amsterdam. I have heard stories about how an interpretation and version of Christianity promoted, validated, and justified slavery, it was the bedrock of belief systems espoused by the American South acquiescing to man’s inhumanity to man.

Changing the Christian perspective

What I did not expect to find in my appreciation of slavery was a “Slave Bible”, and you can never know if other versions of this abridged work of the devil did not exist to keep the slave a slave and the slave master as a god.

What was perpetrated in the name of Christianity is unmentionable and you can only wonder what bible the missionaries gave in exchange for land and resources to the natives in the new world to the Europeans, from the sixteenth century onwards.

It would seem the Christian narrative of those times was to serve European commerce rather than God, a consummate love of money being the root of all evil, including the trading in slaves.

This is one striking question asked by a thirteen-year-old, “What do you do when your saviour and oppressor have the same face?” That gives pause for reflection, the depictions of Jesus are rarely of typical middle eastern features, you will think Jesus was Scandinavian from some artist’s impressions, long flowing blonde hair with blue eyes and much else that has seeded our imaginations of who the son of God is.

Acknowledgement is progress

Yet, I rarely think of Jesus Christ in terms of what he looks like, as no one knows, apart from having participated in our humanity and human race over two millennia ago. His presence confirmed by the new birth and the Holy Spirit given to dwell in us and be our helper, brings us to the inclusive sonship of God the Father and a recognition of such great grace that no man can offer.

Indeed, we study and understand history just as we should know who we follow and believe. The Gospel of Jesus Christ sets us free, any other gospel besides that left men in bondage and chains, physically, mentally, and spiritually. However, I want to believe even through the darkness of a rotten slave bible, some light shone on those who received Christianity with purity of heart, prayers would have been heard, though some might have taken much longer to be answered.

Certain Christian denominations need to acknowledge fully the parts they played in slavery and the slave trade; this should be documented for the historical record.

This is not to impute guilt or culpability, but to advance the knowledge of the truth and the positive changes to our common respect for each other’s humanity, as we strive to make the world a better place, and espouse more the human rights to dignity, life, and freedom.

Let us acknowledge the harm, and work to heal.

Please read: The Slave Bible - A Closer Look

Thought Picnic: That honour rarely comes

We live for others

We grow and yet we do not grow up in the eyes of some usually out of proximity and familiarity or distance and estrangement. We seem to be caught in the amber of time, fossilised in the peat of an eternal past that has never changed. We are seen in the prism of light that no longer reveals or reflects who we are.

For all the journeys and experiences of life we have acquired, it is meaningless as those who never really journeyed with you through the wildernesses and the triumphs are totally unaware of how you have changed and who you have become. Jesus Christ painted that picture clearly; “A prophet is treated with honour everywhere except in his own hometown, among his relatives, and in his own house.” [You Version: Mark 6:4 (The Passion Translation)]

With achievement and recognition garnered from many endeavours, appreciation and praise greeting you as you navigate the fields of toil away from home, you are to them the boy, the kid, the child, the son, stripped of all standing and respect, reviled and contemned with belittlement and contempt, if you crave it, your disillusionment and disappointment will be great with the pall of disconsolation.

Continue in what you know

Yet, you must stand, if not to be heard, at least not to be stymied in the expression of who you have become. Be unrelenting in the resolve that has brought you the success you have earned through the sprinkled ingredients of example, training, experience, guidance, or even indifference.

The thought I started with as with many of my blogs has been lost in the flow of this snippet of self-appreciation. When you realise how impactful the little you do is to others, it matters less whether your kith and kin acknowledge you. If they eventually do, it is a bonus. If they never do, do not let your goals be defined by those who only see you in the past and have never moved beyond it.

With Such Ruthless Efficiency?

Travelling by nature’s gift

One beautiful afternoon walking up Boulevard de Strasbourg in Paris, I noticed on both sides of this broad arterial route were shops purveying a wide variety of hair products catering to the African woman. More notably, were the hair extensions that I was made to believe came from the indigenous peoples of Brazil and India.

The exploitation of this resource and the middlemen that make money from this trade would be a study of world economies and how sources of extraction rarely benefit fully from the market of the produce or products.

The other unusual insight I gained from my observation was the way these indigenous people whose world is limited in its locality have inadvertently travelled the world with their gifts of beautifying customers in Paris, London, Lagos, or any other metropolis where the augmentation of natural hair demands these accoutrements.

Blog - Paris: Boulevard de l'Unpretty (February 2016)

Blog - Paris: Boulevard de l'Unpretty - Revisited. (August 2018)

Readers around the globe

I have had a blog for over 20 years, it started in Germany, I set up the domain in the Netherlands and I reside in the UK. I have posted from many locations and have been completely unaware of the reach of my blog in terms of readership apart from ballpark numbers of readers, locations, search terms, browsers used and so on.

For instance, looking at the statistics on my blog, I cannot account for why there is any interest in my blog from Iran or Cambodia and these are in the top 10 countries with readers from Nigeria coming behind these two countries in the last week. The fact is my blog is travelling to places I could never have imagined, garnering interest that I cannot explain, yet it somewhat engenders something relatable that is not done for engagement, influence, or monetary gain.

They happened upon my blog

Such is the experience I had yesterday when a renowned personality requested access to my résumé which I granted even as I pondered why ever they would make such a request. The follow on was the receipt of an email commending my blog and the work I had put into it for over two decades. They also referred to the fact that my career path which is totally at variance with my journaling and blog deserves deep respect and honour.

Apparently, I have maintained this blog with ruthless efficiency (their words), I only wish I had, as it is the kind of praise that comes to your hearing, and you find yourself looking around expecting it to have been directed at someone else rather than yourself.

My partner and my best friend have already started pointing fingers, “I told you so” said one, “You do not listen” intoned the other. When does self-deprecation morph into self-depreciation? You question your instincts as modesty remains the better virtue to self-promotion. Indeed, I do little to promote my blog, most of the traffic is organic. I have also kept intrusive and cluttering advertisements off it because it is not a commercial venture, nor do I intend it to evolve in that direction.

If like the hair extensions, I am like an indigenous woman who profits little apart from the knowledge that my hair, of which primarily I have none, adorns the heads of sophisticated women around the world, even for the praise and acknowledgement I have received, I would be both fulfilled and grateful. My blog is made up of many stories and I hope each day brings inspiration for another story. 

This extraordinarily amazing woman of Ejigbo community

 A life quite interesting

There is one person I do not sing enough praises of, a kind of strangeness and then familiarity that seems to escape the purview of acknowledgement of humanity, service, motherhood, tenacity and all-round extraordinary. A prophet that is somewhat without honour in their own land.

There are stories we have heard that could be hair-raising, a childhood that seem to offer opportunity but was suffused with such guardian cruelty, yet against such no malice is borne. I watched how distraught they became when that guardian passed on and the final rites were missed by an hour.

In tribulation triumphant

Dockets of tales in a matrimony that seemed to all perfect whilst it was any but, the witnesses of tension and worse that dotted occasions of détente never so sure to survive a season, the spouse pretending to fidelity rarely not there, but we do believe the best of everyone.

In offspring sometimes affected, tainted, or traumatised by that environment, there remained such support hardly appreciated or understood, a dogged focus on protecting the brood and shaping destinies in ways sometimes unintended, yet fundamentally consequential. Here is a masterful ability quite unheralded.

Exceptionally gifted to lift

A person who has charted courses less travelled to become a symbol of relevance that set them out as one to be chosen to pioneer a project of investing in young lives to build a future. The project was tough and arduous, yet adept with skills to manage and marshal, in the pit of the fire and the cold workface, hands were calloused, and faces blackened with soot, but gems were mined that have appreciated in value year on year.

And this is not a culmination, but a journey that overnight a pilgrimage was embarked on fully sponsored by the former uncut rough diamonds whose horizons were not that clear but were given the prospect of a world beyond their locality. They have in this day become persons of means and influence, extending the hand of their mentor into places of power and significance.

Dams of gratitude bursting walls

They return season after season to that anvil of life where they were forged and moulded into implements of change and the chief blacksmith invited time and again to inspect the workmanship of exquisite and priceless provenance wrought in that forge. The power of gratitude flows like brooks into streams, into rivers, into seas and waters that lap lands all over the world.

It is in this that our person is celebrated; Mrs A. J. Akintayo, daughter, lady, woman, teacher, wife, mother, administrator, principal, businesswoman, prophetess, leader, fighter, voice, pilgrim and this list is hardly exhaustive. I salute you, enjoy your trip of a lifetime and there are more to come. You shine and we are exceedingly proud of you.

With the Class of '85 of the then Ejigbo Community High School on the 27th of July 2021
You can laugh this well if you have made lives so good. My mother is in the middle.

The presentation made by the Class of '85
to my mother as the pioneer principal of the then
Ejigbo Community High School that was founded in 1977. 

After death, what do your tributes matter?

Speaking good of the dead

I have always wondered about the eerie spectre of tributes about someone has passed to the Great Beyond because, except if we know quite differently, whether the person so fondly memorialised and eulogised to the point of hagiography ever in the realm of time and space beyond the realm of our perception gets to have a viewing and hearing.

For in the beautiful things we get to say, have we once ventured when the person was present and able to interact and respond we deployed the effusive praise that they are left to gush and blush at the surfeit of encomium and praise that they are left speechless in accepting compliments and so emotional in experiencing the genuine expression of love, respect, and awe.

To the hearing of others

In the absence of that uniquely special case of tributes breaking through the veil to the intangible ethereal eternal timelessness that encompasses, you are left thinking, the glowing obituaries and expressions of sympathy, condolence, and regret are all demonstrations for the living, for once the spirit and soul have left the bodily presentation of the person we once knew, they are forever gone and out of reach or touch.

It should make us reflect on what we could have done with the chance and opportunity to speak and act, it should not matter if at the end one brings another perspective to the enigmatic personality, but to have done things when they could be fully appreciated and not so much in search of recognition but in the unconditional celebration of those who matter.

Doing it when it matters

It does not mean we should be quick to act, to speak or to praise, however, every acknowledgement and recognition of another is not just an act of genuine kindness, it is an expression of gratitude for what they have brought to and contributed to our lives. Until we can hear and speak with the dearly departed outside of esoteric and questionably paranormal environments, our tributes, though making for interesting listening and hearing are absolutely worthless to those we portend to celebrate.

The words of Mark Antony ring loud and clear, for there was nothing more he could do for Ceasar after he had been assassinated, but to lead the procession for his burial.

Thought Picnic: Leaving footprints of lasting impressions

Impressions are footprints in the mind

Looking through your professional life you begin to realise the importance of both making a good impression and leaving a lasting impression. This is something you visit each time you require a reference for a new posting.

A new engagement having decided they want to use your services would as a matter of course and probably due diligence, seek to determine whether other places where you have worked before might if the opportunity presented itself with adequate resources and the requisite demand for your skills, engage you again.

Obviously, this is not to suggest that one wants the same old things, progress and time can change perspectives or prospects, but this is part of what could set you on for your next opportunity. As a matter of courtesy, one should inform and seek the permission of prospective referees to present their names for that purpose.

Good is good is good

Remembering a visit to an office almost 3 years after leaving, just catching up with colleagues and acquaintances, when one of the directors walks by, sees you, greets you warmly and then parts with words to the effect, the solution you created for them stands the test of time.

When references require you mine contacts going back 3 to 5 years, you really want to be sure you not only did a good job, but you also got on well with others and contracting is probably more a test of your adaptability amongst other important abilities. To contact references and receive enthusiastic responses with indications that your work remains commendable even if it was foundational and built upon by others, leaves you with a good feeling.

You need to do good, keep good, live good and never burn your bridges, even if you do not intend to use the bridge again, someone from your past might need that bridge to cross over to you. Be the bridge on which good and favour choose to travel to places that give you access and opportunity. You are your own testimonial long before you need to check it.

Finding me do what I would not do

[]

In the knowing

You cannot overdo appreciation as it stems from the acknowledgement of person, deed, event, or action. You acknowledge and notice, commend and compliment, give praise and sometimes as lavishly as the mode of communication chosen can afford it is all part of gratitude.

I have learnt to be thankful, thankful for so many things, the gift of life, the lifting from deathbed to enjoy life from a new perspective, the blessing of means to do things that would heretofore be impossible, the honour of friendships, people who give time, place, love, consideration and more for reasons you sometimes cannot comprehend, but you are grateful for them being around.

In the doing

The appreciation of love is a higher calling, one we tend to take for granted because love is always there open, ready, willing, able, exerting beyond duty, empathising in a oneness of spirit and soul, ever giving rarely demanding, it is mysteriously powerful.

To it we must respond with consideration and without confusion, knowing the genuineness in which it is offered and we learning to reciprocate in ways that enhance that exchange that is deeper than can be comprehended.

In the living

We must appreciate, we must celebrate, we must immerse ourselves in the beauty of love’s expression and in that find healing that no other medicine can give. It mends the hearts, glows in the face, puts a spring in the step and renews the youth tremendously.

There probably isn’t anything that can’t be done for love, because when it comes to it, it is unconditional and unconventional, selfless, and generous to a fault, you will do for love what you normally will not do. That is the full expression of appreciation.