Twenty-Seven Years and a Day

A Manchester Eclipse

Time is measured in epochs that put our ephemeral existence into insignificance. I have been in the path of a few celestial events, solar eclipses that, without the explanation of modern science, would have left us in total dread and foreboding.

Today in Manchester, we witnessed a partial solar eclipse. Things did not really go dark, but everyone was looking up to behold this once-in-a-lifetime heavenly sight.

I could not get hold of eclipse glasses, so I improvised, making a pinhole camera. I probably needed a bit more depth to the box, but it occupied me enough that I did not dare to look directly at the sun.

An AI-generated infographic on the blog content. (Click to enlarge.)

Finding a Better View

As I live in an urban city centre with many high-rise buildings, getting a good view first entailed standing by the roadside, before I made my way to Mayfield Park, which we as residents sometimes forget is so close and quite vast.

I watched it well beyond the maximum before a lady offered me her glasses, and I then looked directly at the majesty of our universe.

Twenty-Seven Years Earlier

Twenty-seven years and a day ago, we had another solar eclipse. This one was quite prominent; not totality, but you saw and noticed the dimming of the light. As the light dimmed, it took on a sepia hue, almost like being inside a photograph from the 1940s.

It was also a different place. I was visiting a friend in the Netherlands, who lived out in the countryside at Doorn, and what a spectacle we saw in his garden.

Doorn is also the town in which the Kaiser of Germany spent his last days. Wilhelm II abdicated in 1918 and lived at Huis Doorn until his death in 1941; fittingly, he seems to carry that same feeling of the 1940s that the sepia light evoked.

The House at Doorn

My friend's mother took me on a tour of Huis Doorn. As her father had been the groundsman, their house stood on the grounds, and she, with the other children, would run around the house having tea with the Kaiser.

She showed me the chutes they slithered through to get from one part of the house to another: a historical monument, visited with a guide whose own history was formed within its walls.

A Turning Point

I cannot tell why an eclipse could be both momentous and auspicious. I did not see the future, for I had just come out of a seven-year relationship. We remained friends and planned a short holiday to Brussels.

As he returned to England, I headed north to Holland. Nine months later marked the beginning of a new life in the Netherlands, twelve and a half years of it. No, it was not to enter a relationship, though I remained in contact with my friend in Doorn.

Written in the Skies

And God said, "Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth." And it was so. [Genesis 1:14-15 NIVUK]

I do not do things by chance. This might be a harbinger of things to come; the least you can do is to be ready for when change and opportunity come.

Life is like a story written in the skies, sometimes clear, at times cloudy, and even, on occasion, in the dimness and haze of sepia. It comes as experience, to be written into memory and history.

A Gemini Notebook AI Podcast on this blog

Twelve Years a Resident, Fourteen Years Away

Memory and the Reason for Writing

Fourteen years begin to tell you how dull the memory really is. I suppose that is why we write things down, and probably why this blog exists as a journal of stories and experiences.

My visit to Amsterdam, both impromptu and incognito, was for the single purpose of maintaining the status of a loyalty scheme; one that gives benefits and privileges money might buy, but at a higher cost.

My preference was Paris, but Brian adamantly withstood me, fully expressing his concern for my safety, and only he could know why.

Returning After Many Years

I was tempted to let people I knew through my Holland odyssey, which began in May 2000 and ran for the twelve years I called the Netherlands home, in on the visit. To think I found a hotel in Hoofddorp, where I started my first job with AUCS Infonet 26 years ago, is quite something. I was charged city tax; Hoofddorp is over 10 miles as the crow flies from Amsterdam.

Back then, I lived in Amsterdam and commuted out to Hoofddorp by train each morning; now, all these years later, I was sleeping in the very town I once travelled out to. So much has changed, and yet other things remain the same.

Arriving in Amsterdam yesterday, I made for the public library that opened on the 7th of July 2007, intending to have a meal at Vapiano, not knowing they had closed their business in the Netherlands the year before.

Then I thought to walk up to my old apartment block in the Oostelijke Havengebied, the eastern docklands. The flat, which I bought in November 2001 and sold on the 1st of May 2012 when I handed the keys over to the new owner, was on the 7th floor and overlooked two stretches of water: IJhaven and Eersthaven.

These harbours separated my building from Java-eiland and KNSM-eiland, the two long, narrow islands that, together with my side, make up the regenerated docklands.

The Lessons Wasted on Youth

The funny thing is, for all the ten and a half years I lived there, I never once walked from the city centre. I took the tram, the bus, or rode my bicycle. If only I had known the benefits of walking back then, but this kind of knowledge is wasted on youth.

I did not have a flood of memories when I got there, but soon enough, a resident from way back then wheeled out from the garage. We both had a moment of recognition and greeted each other.

That was enough; my plan to attend my old church on Sunday was now under review, as I wondered whether I could handle the emotional overload of so many reunions. I honestly was not prepared for that.

A City Subtly Changed

Tram numbers had changed. What was once Tram 10, which had not yet been built when I first moved there, is now Tram 1. Tram 25 to IJburg is now Tram 26, with the terminus moved to the back of the central station, on the IJ River side.

Then another face I recognised, still looking good, not weathered by time and deserving of a compliment, which I gave liberally. The things you think you remember, only to realise that your memory is a bit jaded.

Even so, all these encounters encourage the recollections of people, events, and ideas that made those times significant in their different ways. For instance, I sent a message to an old friend whom I had once helped pick out gilets and outfits for his wedding, drawing on my familiarity with the outfitters around Amsterdam and my comfort with formal wear.

We had gone shopping together on Nieuwendijk, one of the city's oldest shopping streets, running north from Dam Square towards the Central Station.

Walking the Singel

Today, I went looking for a restaurant on the Singel, thinking it was further down the canal. I had walked all the way in the opposite direction before retracing my steps, only to find it was nearer the central station after all, and that I needn't have taken the tram in the first place.

After my breakfast, which had Danish bacon as it should be, but hash browns as something else entirely, I set out on a small adventure into the past. My first residence had been in the Jordaan, where I rented from June 2000 until November 2001, when I moved to the apartment I had bought in the eastern docklands.

The Jordaan place was a large garage converted into a one-bedroom apartment with two separate toilets, on Palmstraat. It was all unrecognisable now; even the old had been seriously gentrified.

The Indignities of Travel

You could easily be housebound in Amsterdam, as I saw no disabled toilets. The public toilets at the central station charged a hefty €1.10, which is just unforgivable, and there were no staff on hand to help out with failed automation. But that was yesterday.

There was a time when wearing glasses was considered a grave disability, so much so that once laser surgery for corrective eyesight became widespread, the Dutch were beating a path to every practitioner offering the service.

On toilet anxiety, today was worse, as I was far from any known facilities, and the accident happened. By the time I eventually found a toilet, my underwear had to be binned. We suffer in silence, hiding the shame that cannot be avoided because of nature or affliction. Yet we must live life as best we can, for that is the better story.

The Living Existence of a Life Story

I can boldly say Amsterdam is not about the lost, but the living existence of a life story; visited by adversity and failure, but blessed by the gift of life, the promise of a bright future, and undying hope that makes every travail transient.

Beyond my expectations, there was even an ocean liner at the passenger terminal. So much for reducing seafaring tourism; the reality bites harder than ideas in a council meeting with harebrained resolutions.

The old lady of green politics in the Netherlands of the days of yore is the mayor of Amsterdam. Femke Halsema, I doff my hat. Respect!

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

When Change Borrows the Lexicon of Grief

A Week of Lethargy

I would hate to admit to being lethargic, but there could be no other word to explain it. Last week, when returning from London, I bought a piece of rump steak and a salad, with the view to having it for supper.

That never happened. Each day as I returned home thinking I might cook, I was simply too tired to be bothered, so in most cases, I went to bed on an empty stomach and only got up quite late to take my pills.

When it comes to food, I enjoy cooking, and there are times when I do crave something different, but I never immediately act to fulfil that craving. It sits on my mind for a while until it is either dismissed as exhausting or I am compelled to act.

Steak, Finally

After more than a week, I took the steak out of the fridge, marinated it, and rather than tossing it in oil in a frying pan, I left the cooking to the air fryer. Soon it was done, wrapped in foil for five minutes, before I put it on a plate and served it with the salad.

I probably did not recover the sense of satisfaction that had greeted my initial intention and purchase, but I am glad it did not end up in the bin through disuse and spoilage.

Shifting Ground

Then, as I navigated the issues that needlessly occupy the mind in uncomfortable ways, I attended an all-hands meeting that dwelt on the future of work. It was the kind of situation where you feel the ground shifting under you as if you were experiencing an earthquake.

I was able to link this to another experience where, as a sitting tenant, my apartment was sold to a provincial carpetbagger who probably should not have been speculating in my city. Considering not much had changed in my apartment for a decade, I was receiving demands to meet rates relative to the area without any corresponding changes to the commodity.

Loving where I live and my neighbours, I have made adjustments and accommodations, but there are limits to acquiescing before it becomes untenable. A recent posting in my village would suggest I am paying over the odds.

A Contract in Flux

The shifting sands metaphor also applies to work. The services contract between my employer and the client is changing such that the functions I perform will transfer to another service provider, whilst my employer assumes an overarching responsibility between the client and all the engaged service providers.

I think my employer is somewhat conflicted, because they would lose personnel engagement but acquire a broader first line support profile, along with that control and interface between the service providers and the client. The question is whether I am transferred to a new service provider or retained to function with other clients.

Grief Is Not a Career Change

For me, that meeting was rather depressing, and it was not helped by someone in a top managerial role trying to be a psychologist, addressing issues of fundamental change to career trajectories.

For someone who has studied and traversed the Five Stages of Grief with respect to two life-threatening episodes of cancer, the last thing I expected was to recognise those words adapted into a philosophy of change at work.

The intent was commendable, but I do not think due consideration was given to the effect such associations would have on the attendees. Changing jobs or having employment contracts change whilst retaining the same role can never equate to any stage of grief of the kind I had experienced.

It was almost as if she were having a laugh whilst trying to be empathetic and serious.

In the end, I was unimpressed and totally nonchalant, even as the burden of other concerns, including health challenges, became a lexicon of daily struggles seeking ascendancy over better stories and good living.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Thoroughness Is Not Stalling

Caution Gets the Cold Shoulder

I sometimes find myself receiving the cold shoulder because something I have been asked to do requires a bit more investigation and understanding before considering implementation.

One such situation came up towards the end of last week. A deployment from a utility set was being knocked out by a security policy. We did not realise this was an issue until an urgent investigation for actionable data could not be completed, as the tracker had already been removed by that same policy.

In layman's terms, take, for instance, a sophisticated radio jamming implementation that stops all mobile phones from communicating, except for selected phones with particular identities.

One essential phone is then brought into the environment, but not exempt from the jamming signal; it might appear to operate, but it goes blank when a call is about to be made. This is not entirely accurate in technical terms, but it paints the picture of what the situation was.

A Policy in the Way

We had blocked everything except for select elements, and another system was sending out an element that was not on that list. The element was installed, but within a set timeframe, it was removed because it was not on the list.

Obviously, this put my colleague in a quandary. They had to explain why information they assumed would always be retrievable was suddenly unavailable, and this stymied the investigation another team was trying to commence.

In the broader scheme of things, there was always a security policy, but for investigatory purposes, the tool needed an exemption to allow it to install and remain installed. The end-to-end facilitation chain had not been engaged, and hence, the failure of intent at that stage.

Rushing Ahead Without the Facts

The obvious next step was to remediate the issue by allowing the tool to install, but neither of us had full knowledge of the facts of what other parameters it needed to perform as required.

While my colleague wanted to rush out a fix, I was not convinced we had the right one. We had some knowledge of what should be done, but no guarantee it would work. In cases such as this, I would find a subset of users and/or devices to test the premise on, ascertain that everything works as intended, and then implement it under change management processes.

However, to my colleague, I was impeding the process and stalling rather than being proactive, despite my concerns and feeling that we did not have sufficient information to proceed.

Their next act was to extricate themselves from the communication chain, leaving me to face the pressure of urgent implementation without the full set of data required to have the confidence that we were doing the right thing.

Right the First Time

Earlier today, I gained some clarity on the fundamentals of the implementation, including what the sources were and where the conflicts occurred. With this, I was sufficiently informed to test the premise of my findings and, beyond that, gain the full information needed to fix the problem once and for all.

I recognise that I could be pedantic, and at times, some have suggested I am a perfectionist, which I would immediately deny. I am thorough, sometimes quite particular and meticulous; it is simply the nature of the responsibility this job carries.

An accidental deployment can so easily close down a business, and whilst this particular activity does not carry such a critical risk, there is one thought to always keep in mind.

I'd rather do it right the first time, even if it takes longer, than rush it now and have to fix the issues that arise because I did not devote the necessary time to understanding what was involved. For that reason, I make no apology. The world is not ending; it is impatience clouding better judgement.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

The blessing of loving what you do

Why do you like your job?

Having heard from many others, I can only count myself blessed to enjoy what I do and my job. The responsibilities involved can be challenging and sometimes frustrating. Managerial levels, especially those in project management who impose demands for deliverables that lack any semblance of being feasible considering resources, time, and cost, are particularly difficult.

Clearly, one must be assertive enough in their area of expertise to offer a genuine perspective on what is achievable within the constraints provided. I recognised this blessing more profoundly when people asked me if I liked my job. It revealed more about how they felt about their own positions than about any genuine curiosity regarding my situation.

The fear of change

I hate to admit that it felt more like searching for kindred spirits in the shared misery of work life, which is quite sad. Fortunately, I found the courage to walk away from a job that had lost its enjoyment, excitement, and sense of progress. 

This situation often arises from how one is managed; if line managers view you as a human being, giving respect, courtesy, dignity, and trust, while also recognising your contributions, it can significantly affect your experience. 

Too often, we are constrained by the fear of leaving the comfort of the familiar for the uncertainties of the unknown. However, it has been in those moments that I have left the comfort of a stable job with a regular salary and no clear prospects for advancement or promotion, that I have stepped into more exciting and rewarding roles and opportunities.

Take that vital step

You must step out and away to step into something better. A brief discomfort might herald better things to come. Naturally, one must have faith in oneself and in the experiences acquired, which may be underappreciated where you currently are, but seen as invaluable elsewhere.

What you do not want is for the transient notion of job security to rob you of career autonomy and erode your ambition, leading to a loss of confidence in your marketability.

Many of us should explore better ways to market our skills in varied environments. A curriculum vitae needs enhancement to catch the eyes of recruiters beyond a mundane presentation.

Trust your capable self

When it ceases to be enjoyable, do not waste time hoping it will improve if the personnel, purpose, or project has not changed. Reinventing oneself can be an appealing and distinguishing factor in the job market; moreover, no knowledge or experience is ever truly wasted. This may necessitate a period of inactivity or a change of surroundings.

This is why I believe that, regardless of what you undertake, its value or impact may not be immediately apparent, but your own progress is something others elsewhere might appreciate.

Reassess your options; you have likely exhausted the potential for growth within your current engagement and need new fertile ground of people, projects, and purposes to write another wonderful chapter in your career and life.

Finally, you are the principal participant in the story of your life, do not let another make you a victim of your circumstances, think of number one and take care of number one first, learning to love yourself, it is the greatest love of all.

Spare: Prince Harry's storytelling prerogative

The epilogue first

That Prince Harry has decided to tell his own story is his own prerogative, just because he is royal does not take away both his agency and his individuality. Prince Charles and Princess Diana gave primetime interviews and ghost-authored books too. In the same vein, no one is under any obligation to read his book, it is not being forced on anyone.

Then this and much more…

As a monarchist, I vow

Maybe I should start with a statement that I believe the constitutional monarchy of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland serves a purpose. For broader reasons, I would say I am both a monarchist and a democrat.

However, as a matter of necessity, all institutions need to adapt and undergo changes, some radical to remain relevant or they risk extinction. There is a difference between the institution and the people who for whatever period of time get to helm those institutions, be that the monarchy or government in the office of the Prime Minister.

The weaknesses of our democracy

Sadly, I cannot report that the crop of politicians we have today exhibit the qualities and abilities of leadership that can persuade me that ridding ourselves of the monarchy is wise at this time. The political parties especially the Conservative Party which once was a broad church of diverse representative views have evolved into one where there is only one persuasion and any deviation from that leads to expulsion.

That is what the Brexit situation wrought on the Tory Party at the 2019 election, they got rid of the reasonable and acquired the reactionary. Looking back over 12 years of predominantly conservative government, I think we can agree that the nations are not better off now than when they took power in May 2010, but I have already digressed from the purpose of this blog.

Changing is banging at the door

The state of our monarchy after 70 years of Elizabeth II calls for a review of how they exist and operate, their ability to adapt would require Solomonic wisdom with Churchillian persuasion. We have a clear line of succession, the King, his heir, the Prince of Wales, and the grandson, Prince George but they do not have the obscurity that conferred the mystique on the aristocracy that Queen Elizabeth started with, and there was much radical change in how the monarchy conducted itself over those 70 years.

To many, Queen Elizabeth was a symbol of stoicism, rarely did you see displays of emotion or expressions of character that might look interesting. King Charles pen wars at his assession that continued during his visit to Northern Ireland or the much-rumoured fiery temper of Prince William, the Prince of Wales, we know a bit more about Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex and we would soon learn more still.

The press of the press

I doubt I have the spare change to buy Spare, the memoir by Prince Harry to be released on the 10^th of January 2023, but some revelations that have been shared would suggest there is a firestorm coming for the monarchy and I am not sure there is any dexterity to hand to manage the blowout.

What I know is that Harry and Meghan have had the most unfavourable British press that is followed closely by the Australian version, we have been swamped with stories and regaled with tales, there had to be a time when the people affected could talk back and clear the air.

It began with their exodus to America and the Oprah interview, however, people have taken sides and formed whatever impressions about the couple that the entrenched are totally unpersuadable about a different narrative. That the sides could be along racial lines is something I have observed too.

The whoredom of the press and the royal family

If we go back to when Princess Diana was alive and had issues with the press, it is sometimes believed it was the pursuit of the paparazzi that contributed to the automobile accident where she lost her life in Paris, one can say the press is unrelenting in its quest for celebrity tittle-tattle, you need to be in a totally different domain to escape it.

When reading up about Franz Welser-Möst who conducted the Vienna Philharmonic New Year’s Concert, he alluded to the relationship between the press and the Royal Family and his time as the conductor of the London Philharmonic “Look at the press about the royal family,” he noted. “There’s no other country where the press is just so weird as it is here.” That was in 1995, you can draw whatever conclusions you want from that. [Los Angeles Times: Conductor Battles Burden of Success]

Angry black woman loading…

One widely reported excerpt from Harry’s leaked book was one related to a confrontation between Prince William and him, captioned below:

Describing a confrontation at his London home in 2019, Harry says William called Meghan “difficult”, “rude” and “abrasive”, which Harry calls a “parrot[ing of] the press narrative” about his American wife.
[The Guardian: Prince Harry details physical attack by brother William in new book]

I do not know Meghan Markle, but as a once successful and independent woman who married into the royal family, she had her work cut out. That beast called love would put you in unintended situations for which you have to battle for your survival.

Yet, as is indicative of a monarchy at risk of being found moribund, the Queen asked her most trusted aide from a certain age and time to help Meghan adjust to entering the royal family, this without considering the same lady failed to help Lady Diana Spencer integrate well too. Yes, that Lady Susan Hussey, has met a shockwave of opprobrium and is on a crash-course on engaging with diversity in these times. Having a stiff upper lip is not enough for getting on with life, regardless of status, means, or privilege. We have long left the war years, and nostalgia is keeping us back.

However, back to William’s view of Meghan, he said, she was difficult. Well, ask any black woman who has had trouble in any settle because they have dared to have an opinion, initiative, a voice, or exuded a sense of independence. The first loaded word to castigate them is difficult and the straight journey to an impossible angry black woman has already begun. Meghan never had a chance, the moment she gained the epithet of difficult and the long tail of descriptions that followed.

Tell your own story

The difference between Prince Harry and Prince William is Prince Harry was ready to stand for his relationship, and stand up for his partner and wife. That cannot be said of how Prince William first broke up with Kate Middleton before he saw the sense to rekindle their relationship and marry her.

Blog - A welcome but unprincely separation (April 2007)

That Prince Harry has decided to tell his own story is his own prerogative, just because he is royal does not take away both his agency and his individuality. Prince Charles and Princess Diana gave primetime interviews and ghost-authored books too. In the same vein, no one is under any obligation to read his book, it is not being forced on anyone.

However, if anyone has readily consumed whatever the media has said about Harry and Meghan without disregarding the apparently cosy relationship between the press and the royal family that offers access and patronage to portray the principals in the best light whilst reducing others to inconsequence, then it would only be fair to see what Harry has to say.

Finally, until we have met those persons and made their acquaintance to the point of knowing who they are, what we have is a media persona, a depiction crafted by benevolent and malevolent agencies over which the persons concerned gain or loss benefits and have a portrayal they have little control over. Harry and Meghan have chosen to make their lives in America, and they need to earn a living with the skills, opportunities, and even the privilege of birth. I bid them Godspeed.

In the journey to new green pastures and still waters

Catching myself on guard

Life is a journey, sometimes perilous and sometimes tranquil, but what is a given is that there is no steady state. The comfortable can so quickly turn and change is constantly pressing against the familiar and the mundane either to carry you along with your ability to adapt or leave you behind having been overtaken by circumstances.

For all the successes and adversity, I have experienced in my life, I cannot say I have found a formula that works best for each situation, much as I am not a tyro in the vicissitudes of life, I have to catch myself from the despair that threatens to upset me, or throw myself from the ease that allows me to settle without challenge or assertion into lassitude.

Embracing and enduring change

Yet, it is not lassitude in the very sense of the word, it is just that for the constancy of life day to day and for larger intervals of time from which certain milestones are measured, you need to be ready for change, know where you are in the change cycle and endure the process with dignity and fortitude to when things do bring a new relief.

I am reminded and I caught myself again that I should not despair, for have been through tough patches before and this too shall pass. For in Psalm 23, the reason why I have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death as one of the sheep of the Lord that is my shepherd is that we have exhausted the freshness of the green pastures we grazed earlier in the Psalm and need to find other cool still waters.

Eventually, new pastures and water must be found

The green pastures and still waters we need for sustenance so we can thrive and live in abundance are never in the same place nor are adjacent to each other, there are journeys and wanderings in treacherous landscapes where beast and predator might lie in wait of which I should not bother myself too much for the good shepherd is there to protect and lead, knowing the watering and feeding places in life as we roam as nomads in the changes and pursuits of life.

It is from this realisation just as a sense of foreboding tries to cloud my vision and lay grip on my hope that I begin to calm myself down and reflect on the goodness that has blessed my existence, favour and grace abound. The love of God consumes to show that I should neither care for nor fear for anything. It would come good and get better.

I comfort myself that before long even as He knows that I thirst and hunger, we would not tarry, the abundance the sheep needs to thrive again is not that far off, just stay the course trusting and following the shepherd.

Blog - The changing texts of religious meditation

Blog - Psalm 23 comes alive with new insight

We can be angels with and of change

A scarcity of loose change

To the many disadvantaged and destitute in my city, I can only imagine how the pandemic and technological advancements have affected them. For instance, I used to have some change in pound coins or lesser value coins in my pocket somewhere that I could give when asked for some help.

I can think of the many times that I have not been able to give any change nor had the immediate means to collect and handle money physically. Everything is now done electronically either online or through contactless payments.

There was a time I was approached by one man who said he needed something to eat, I was just passing by a fish & chip shop, so, having my mobile phone that could complete a transaction, I put in an order for a meal and drink, paid for it and told him to collect when done. It probably is easier to just ask before I go into a supermarket if someone needs anything, and I get it for them, with a little extra.

Not much change for many

It is the little one can do because even the charities and social services are stretched, they almost always do not have enough places, beds, supplies or the essentials to meet the demands, and even if the supplicants did qualify many have to go through too many hurdles that humiliate and dehumanise them to get the bare necessities, if at all.

Direct help in my view is useful, if anything, it reminds us all, that we have the poor amongst us and that the milk of human kindness and angelic provision still exists in our tough times and tougher, if sometimes, indifferent society. I have purposed not just to give change, but to give money that can do something, to get a meal or a bed for the night, sometimes even more.

Change given without any judgement

Leaving church earlier, I was accosted by someone who wanted money for a meal, I could not even imagine if he had had a meal recently, but I had a monetary note in my wallet and as I was trying to get it, he went on about him only needing it for food, not for drugs or for alcohol. It is that person's prerogative what they use the money I give them for. Obviously, I would rather they applied to use and care rather than abuse, but that is left to them.

As I gave him the money, I told him, I am not here to judge you. It is an evolving lesson of maturing, if I dare, some empathy, that I would constantly entertain, I do not want to stand in judgement because I have means, opportunity, or privilege.

I know what it is to fall on hard times and I am grateful for all those who pulled me through those almost impossible circumstances, I have been blessed abundantly beyond words I can find to express, the much that I have enjoyed.

Give more than just change

Further down the road, a lady smiled at me from under her sleeping bag in the doorway of a building on one of main shopping streets and I determined to do something about that brief encounter, for I smiled back.

I walked up the road to find an automatic teller machine (ATM) and there were none for a good stretch of what is a commercial street. Banks are closing and removing the heretofore ubiquitous ATMs that they are becoming quite scarce to find. I had committed in my intentions to give her something, so, I walked back on myself to find an ATM, even that had a notice that it would be removed in just over 3 weeks.

That would mean that for most of the length of Deansgate in Manchester, there would be no ATMs, how and why that is allowed to happen is perturbing and disconcerting.

We are angels of change

However, I did get some money and walked back up to the lady and gave it to her. I probably should cultivate another thing; the habit of conversation and learning more about the people I have helped, for they all have a human story that I am usually disinterested in.

There is gratitude and uncertainty that crosses their faces, they cannot believe the generosity in the first place and wonder if I am sure I want to give them whatever I have given. I understand their plight, but I assure them, in the worst-case scenario, they have been visited by an angel. That seems to assure them, for whether we acknowledge it or not, we all seem to believe in angels, and that my friends, is a very good thing.

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - LXI

Revelations of possible distaste

Recently, I returned to my usual walking route, and it was interesting to observe the things that have changed around my city. Hoardings, fencing, and boards erected around erstwhile building sites that usually took over pavements and sometimes the whole lane of a street have come down to reveal architectural carbuncles of barely occupied apartment blocks with signs offering the ground floors for commercial activity.

Two supermarkets have opened, even a college needing the tape to be cut by some dignitary seeks some social activity in the not-too-distant future. Elsewhere, roads have been cordoned off or blocked for reconstruction or repairs, too many to the detriment of pedestrians as me and worst still for those with mobility requirements. As temporary traffic lights have been installed for vehicular traffic with no option or consideration for pedestrians as our crossing are now out of use requiring detours to somewhere without rerouting.

Rats in the city

Walking up a slightly secluded road, in just 10 footsteps I saw 3 rats, which is scary. They can only be thriving because there is a food source nearby, this is a harbinger of a rat infestation if it is not already a menace in that area.

From last Thursday, when all pandemic restrictions were lifted in England, people have relaxed as if the pandemic is over. Whilst I am glad, we still wear face masks in church as I do in all places for my own safety, it is amusing that a prime minister who has no capacity for exercising personal responsibility now requires us to act with civic and personal responsibility if we ever contract COVID-19. The rat’s arse of man.

More striking in all my observations is the fate of a corner shop that had served a Salford community for 34 years in an old building on Chapel Street. It has been demolished and I am unsure of what would take its place. The appearance behind the hoardings suggests a park, it might well be another unremarkable and exorbitant edifice seeking forlorn occupancy, who knows? Another case of rats gnawing on our heritage. We live in interesting times.

Thought Picnic: The futility in trying to rearrange me

Keep it in perspective

Let me consider the anticipation and excitement greeting some situation that has been considered the whole year but been hamstrung by the heavy pall of the pandemic along with the nationalistic restrictions imposed taking little cognisance of the fact that we need a globally concerted and integrated effort to arrest the hold of the Coronavirus.

Along the way, nerves are getting frazzled even as the default posture is to avoid any agitation as much as possible, from near and afar, as you channel issues that should best be resolved in the propinquity of the participants and principals rather than then seeking external counsel and intervention to no better end than to blindside you into taking sides.

Minimalist to my strength

It is a constant refrain, if not a battle to not get involved if possible and to be as minimally light-touch as possible. To have an effect rather than directly affect calls on insight and wisdom, maybe it is just self-preservation, it is all part of keeping one’s sanity in the midst of much turmoil.

Blog - Thought Picnic: I am best at my own speed

To some, I can be so easily upset when it is not so much the singular events but the compounding of different things, dissatisfaction, angst, anxiety, cravings, temptations, desires, the unfulfilled, the unexpected, little mistakes, annoyances, obstinacy and stubbornness against predicted outcomes, the irksome things are myriad and caught in the web of one’s existence that it might if allowed snuff out any pleasure.

Just as I am, is fine

It takes a different kind of awareness to not be drawn into the little and inconsequential that might result in inadvertent consequences begetting ruefulness and regret. What I choose to ignore sometimes is just for my safety and not out of slight, I cherish my peace of mind, my own company, and quite importantly, my own space. That I have to explain this can be frustrating and infuriating.

Anyway, I do what I have to do and along with hoping that the prayer of serenity is fulfilled in every circumstance, I am faced with, to know what I can change, what I cannot change and the wisdom to know the difference.

Then, for as long as I can remember, too many have wanted to change me into what they think I should be rather than accepting that my uniqueness and individuality has their own expression that could be allowed to flourish for them to see me as the best I could ever be, along with my humanity, my flaws, my weaknesses and my somewhat incomprehensible tics.

Keeping up to excel at it

It is the challenge you rise to

“Let me ask is it hard for you to be up to date?” That was a question from an ex-colleague with whom I have maintained contact on a professional and social level for the last couple of years. Our conversations weave in and out of life and work issues. I never tire of addressing any of the things that come up for discussion.

My professional Information Technology career started in October 1988, but things have changed so radically over the last 32 years. My niche area of expertise that I was first co-opted into began in 1996 and there have been so many iterations of the product that though the fundamentals are the same, the scope of its influence is humongous.

The answer is simple and it is likely anyone else will answer in the same vein. “It is not easier, it requires more discipline, practice, and reading. Experience helps, but new things are new things, you have to learn them properly.” I spend a lot of my free time learning to be better at what I do, because change is constant, not keeping up leads to irrelevance.

“If you don’t like change, you’re going to like irrelevance even less.” General Eric Shinseki

Start a bonfire to change the cake

The ache of a cake

It feels strange, the kind of humour that comes to mind in these times. Greater Manchester of which Mancunium is the centre was moved into Boris Johnson’s Tier 3 level of coronavirus restrictions. It does not change much of what I do, my walks, my apparent self-isolation, my shopping, my churchgoing are all intact.

Thinking of tiers, it might just be a cake of tiers but what will the third tier of cake taste like? I would have no idea, a phantom cake has no context of form or taste, it is a figment of my imagination or a coping mechanism for forces somewhat beyond one’s control.

The national cake is being cut into regional conflicts between the central government and the local leaders, most of the regions not getting enough of cake to keep them fed. But we have Prime Minister whose hands on the till is a wasteful squandering the cake, because he thinks he can both have and eat his cake. A profligate, prodigal, reprobate, he is.

[Quote Brexit: Boris: “Our policy is having our cake and eating it.”]

No change in our pockets

The other night, a man and his dog was accosting anyone who will listen and I was eventually engaged, he had a pocket full of coins that he wanted to exchange for paper money or plastic money as some of our denominations are now. It appears, no one carries money around anymore which is a radical change to our society.

We have inadvertently become a cashless society, I have not taken money out of an automatic teller machine for months, everything is done by contactless payments by mobile phone or bank card. It means you do not have change for anything, especially those in receipt of alms. It got to a point the man walked off into a side alley on the way out of town cursing and raging, having not changed his money and somewhat thinking the world was against him.

A bonfire of useless parliamentarians

We are all up against a lot and it is easy not to see how things have affected others in the midst of things that impact us directly. A number of cultural and traditional events would suffer for this. Halloween coming up at the end of the month will entertain no trick or treat, it would be unsafe to take sweets or treats from strangers.

The 5^th of November is Guy Fawkes Night, though you wonder if with the crop of representatives with have in our current parliament, we would not be best served with a bonfire of their vanities. Imagine voting against free school meals and defending the position as if the Tories are the victims rather than the children, some of whom will go to bed hungry. [BBC News: School meals: Marcus Rashford 'proud' of community response]

Locally, it will be no penny for the Guy, an effigy of Guy Fawkes created by kids for which they can ask for donations. For all that we do to maintain a sense of stability, the subtle changes going on around us cannot be ignored. We keep at what we can and hope for the best.

Thought Picnic: The fields of clouds carry winds of creatives

Fields of people

Each day as you look out onto the fields with the pathways that lead through to sit in the grass or on a bench, sometimes bearing you on a shortcut from one place to another. Everything is not as it seems.

The people you see on your way or as you sit, some alone, some in company are a world to themselves, the moments you observe are but an instant in life you cannot begin to fathom. For from whence they came to hence they go remains a mystery. If you follow one, where goes the others?

Clouds of distress

You hear the cackle of laughter, yet, it might be a shield, an escape from another situation for which words cannot be found. We roam our worlds almost like listless clouds some bearing violent storms that ruin the landscape below, life and livelihood brought to waste. Some shifting for the brilliance and warmth of the sun to come through, others shielding from the radiative destruction of the rays of our planet’s life-giver.

You wonder if each cloud has a purpose, the present and absence of which that make the difference in a day and as you add up the days, the end of the year is a harvest, for some other clouds brought the rain to water the grain. One is not a nephologist and do not mistake that for a nephrologist.

For me, there is a mystery in people as there is of clouds, their forms, their motion, their dispersal, the experience of standing in a cloud on a tourist trip to Mt. Teide on the Canary Island of Tenerife.

Blog - Voyage to the land of the friendly volcano

Winds of change

In people, there is another aspect of clouds, the ones that cloud the eyes that you cannot see clearly or worst still, a clouded mind that finds it difficult or impossible to comprehend, to reason, or to think. These clouds have given some countries the worst leaders in the most trying times.

If only there were a wind of change and this wind is a carriage of the people by their voices, in their acts and through their votes to sweep these stormy clouds way out to the seas where turbulence and meet turbulence without harming anyone else.

Creatives of empowerment

Back to the fields, the fields of life and even the expansive field of the Internet, whilst taking a bench on Twitter, I saw a kite of such beautiful colours and when it landed, it was in the Instagram flower garden of the Uncles David, two amazing married men who have been together for decades of love and life, pairing up in the same apparel and smiling encouragement to us all, even as they face the frailties of the body.

It is from Uncle David that I found this saying and it is one I will not forget. “I challenge you to invoke your creativity, not as an escape, but rather as an empowerment.” David K North.

Away from the clouds and within the beautiful garden of flowers carved out of the wild fields we find ourselves in from time to time, I present the Instagram page of David K North, many things to many people, a place I found to meditate and get inspired. [Instagram – David K North]

Our mother, the example of community involvement

Our mother, the partisan

My sister, Ibukun Olawepo-Johnson, wrote on Facebook about our mum and her activism, even I learnt a few things too that I had to ask if I could share what she had written, below.

Yesterday I was talking to my cousin about the presidential visit (to Lagos), I told him I can bet my last kobo that my mum was at the stadium in Surulere.

It dropped in my mind that we have a lot of lazy youth in this country, my mum retired from the civil service after 35 years of service. I think she was even kept on for one extra year because of the beautiful work she did when she was in service.

Our mother, the principal

All throughout the time I knew her, she was a principal and she was a principal in all the trouble areas in Ejigbo, Okota and Oshodi where she had running battles with thugs and difficult students, (I would add, teachers and some presumably family friends who thought she did not deserve her position), she fought them to a standstill and won the battle. She was last promoted to special principal grade.

[Some backstory information, my mother was asked to start a school from scratch at the age of 34 in 1977, she created and ran Ejigbo Community High School for probably 13 years. Just over a year ago, I think in the 40th year of the establishment of the school, the alumni of the school honoured her with a commemoration and thanks for her leadership, mentorship and contributions to the community.]

Our mother, the activist

After she left service she was still very active, later when she moved to her house in Ejigbo, she joined the Community Development Association (CDA) group on her street and became the Chairman of her CDA, somewhere along the line she joined politics and she is a strong member of APC in her area.

My mum had the option of retiring and watching things unfold in her community, but she chose to be involved. Even when my younger sister was ill, and she was her primary caregiver, she still found the time to be involved in what was going on in her community.

When glaucoma almost made her blind, she was still attending CDA and APC meetings and activities at over 75 years old. [We were able to get some of the best medical help to save her eyesight. She is even more up and about with community, political and church activities.]

Our mother, the example

It's a shame on all of us that are under 70, we have the power to be involved in our communities, yet all we do is make noise on social media, criticising the government in our various offices and the country without getting involved to bring about the changes we want.

No one will hand power over to us, we need to be involved get involved in politics.

It is time we clean it up if we feel it is a dirty game.

We need to stop all this ranting and noise making, we need to make the next necessary move to bring on change and take our communities to the next level.

The elders will only hand over to the youth if only the youth are actively involved.

Campaign for your own candidate, don't say my vote does not count; go out to vote and ensure that votes are counted before leaving the polling booth. Demand good governance in your locality and attend CDA meetings.

Change begins with you and me.

Start from your house, move into your street, on to your local government area, then your office, all the way until you get to the very top.

Postscript

This characteristic of community involvement is not unique to our mum, our dad is also quite involved in the community also. From as far back as I can remember when we returned from the UK, the renovation of our homestead, the bringing of electricity supply to our village, the building of the new village cathedral, a new secondary school and many other activities to help people in their careers, businesses and general needs.

They are examples of a standard well beyond whatever we have ever attempted, yet they show a way to what can be achieved when we have the commitment, drive and a vision to make a difference in people, situations and communities.

In this, we begin to commend that exemplary lives of our parents.

Nigeria: Where we chew hungrily on the bones of our children

They never disappear entirely

Words spoken and heard by others might well travel far, however, what fascinates me is when astronomers say that can still read the echoes of the beginning of time. More so, is the fact that some stars we see today might well have expired, but the light from those stars having travelled lightyears has only just reached us.

So, imagine my surprise when yesterday someone retweeted a tweet I posted 1,065 days ago on the 12^th of December 2012. The Internet has become like space, constantly expanding and extending to almost limitless reaches beyond the purvey of the originators of the published content, like a star whose light persists long after it has perished.

A hard summary of Nigeria

Yet, in its oldness was a new freshness, it was retweeted by others many times over again, maybe a testament to the fact that if some thought is put into a tweet, it will probably resonate with others.

Nigeria - Eats its young, disables the able, kidnaps its old, praises its thieves, scorns the humble and justifies the wrong.

— Akin Akíntáyọ̀ (@forakin) December 12, 2012

Much as there has been a political change in the country, the real effects of the change are yet to be felt, the new government has been slow in starting and whilst the change is as good as any, especially from the outrageous kakistocrats that held the nation in an unconscionable grip of nepotism, obsequiousness, corruption, impunity and squander, things are very much the same.

Without belabouring the point

The #ChibokGirls are still in captive with the menacing #BokoHaram, we still have about 10.5 million children are not in school and facing a rather bleak future. That is not to talk of children victimised and brutalised by spiritualists and other kinds of reprehensible abusers.

It is still a struggle to start up anything viable from businesses to any kind of project and keep it going, employees are abused and exploited into complete helplessness against the tyranny of their employers, kidnapping for a ransom is sadly becoming a thriving business venture, the thieves might well be arraigned, but they have gummed up the system willing incomprehensible victories in the courts.

Besides, if you can show enough ostentation even from suspicious and unaudited sources of wealth, you will probably be worthy of emulation and be the people’s darling, the idea of being modest is literally excoriated and well, forget about justice or fairness, the system is weighed in favour of the powerful, the moneyed, the well-connected and those who can troop the best lawyers into court to intimidate the bench.

We do clamour for some change for the better, but it is still much a dream than a foreseeable reality, for now.