Long Enough, Short Enough: A Blog Learns to Speak

Twenty-Three Years On

The husbandry of a blog in its 23^rd year might leave one wondering whether there is a need to radically change its format and workings, or to provide other means of engagement with an audience whose attention is now grabbed by whatever suits these changing times.

When reviewing this issue, I have landed on the premise that textual expression still matters. I hope my blogs, as I have often suggested, follow the judgement of a good seamstress making a skirt: it should be long enough to cover the detail, whilst short enough to keep the interest.

I think I read that quip in the Reader's Digest, over 40 years ago, and it still matters. In terms of the format and appearance of my blogs, I have essentially maintained the same design for as long as I can remember.

A New Development

However, in 2026, I came upon an interesting development. On my Android phone, using the Google Chrome browser, there was an option to "Listen to this page". What you get is not a verbatim readout of the page, but an AI-generated summary, lasting up to 90 seconds.

For one blog I wrote at the end of January, I could not get an AI-generated summary; rather, it was a Read Aloud of the blog, word for word. I was not happy with that, and I could not find any mechanism to change it from a verbatim readout to an AI-generated précis.

It then occurred to me that, months ago, when working with Google NotebookLM, as it was known until earlier in July, the month we are now closing out, when it became Gemini Notebook, you could paste the URL of a source into a notebook and then ask for an Audio Overview.

The Audio Overview

In its default state, the Audio Overview is a Deep Dive: an AI-generated discussion between two people, one with a male voice and one with a female voice, on the content of the source. It offers explanation and exposition of the material to give a considered and thoughtful review of, in this case, the blog I have posted as a source.

This follows a podcast format, and you have options for a short version or one of much longer duration, with further formats beyond the Deep Dive, namely Brief, Critique, or Debate. I have plumped for the mid-range Deep Dive, which can run anywhere from 15 to 25 minutes.

To my mind, this is a judicious use of time: long enough to explore a blog's topics exhaustively, yet the podcast rarely rambles into the inconsequential or the insignificant. A five-minute podcast, by contrast, would do little justice to much of what I write about.

These conversations come in the M4A audio file format, which I upload to the Internet Archive and then share via an inline frame tag at the bottom of the text of every blog written in 2026.

I think this brings a rich context to the blog beyond just reading the material. Some discussions extend the reach of the blog to topics not clearly covered, or to issues that need addressing in clearer detail than a blog can offer.

A Matter of Inclusion

There is another benefit I had not fully appreciated at the outset. These audio overviews open the blog to those who might otherwise be shut out of it: readers with visual impairments, and those who find long passages of text a struggle.

They also serve the many who simply prefer to listen whilst commuting, walking, or going about their day. What began as an experiment in enrichment has quietly become a matter of inclusion, and I am glad the blog can now meet its audience in more than one way.

Weaving a Train of Thought

Beyond that, and this is still work in progress, I have taken links to blogs created in a monthly circle and asked for Audio Overviews that now weave an interesting train of thought. I have been surprised to see this, as each blog is usually written individually and separately, on its own subject, perspective, and merit.

I have put these out as much longer-form Deep Dive podcasts, published on a quarterly basis. I suppose the parameters for prompting in these situations require a bit more grounding and centring on the context of those blogs.

Occasionally, the Audio Overviews might misconstrue or misunderstand something; and while you can interact with a podcast, reproducing it, even on the same prompt, creates a uniquely different podcast.

That said, you have the option to put in clarifications and corrections until you are happy with the result. Some outputs are just too good to be discarded, the quality of the discussion outweighing the minor errors.

AI as a Useful Tool

My hope is that readers of my blogs can also become listeners to the podcasts, which serve as independent and usually objective reviewers of the material concerned, the blog being the core source of the podcast. As the author of these blogs, I have found the podcasts can untangle some awkward uses and styles of my writing. In this, I have found AI a most useful tool.

In the end, the same principle that has long governed my prose now governs my podcasts: long enough to cover the detail, short enough to keep the interest. The good seamstress, it seems, has taken up a new craft.

A Gemini Notebook AI Podcast on this blog

AI Certification in the Thermionic Age

The Test Centre Experience

Adjusting the camera, he surmised that I was a much taller candidate than others who had been there recently. I had just signed on the signature pad, and many unsuccessful attempts were made to capture a picture of my face before I stepped forward a bit, took off my glasses, and he was satisfied with the essential security checks.

Yet he had erroneously added my details to another candidate's profile; we had to do it all over again. I only realised his error when he signed me onto the testing computer. Clicking on the scheduling for the other candidate, I saw a better picture of my visage than the one eventually used for my profile.

How Pearson VUE happens upon these test centres with kit that seems to have been acquired from an antiques shop, in a throwback to a time when computers were powered by thermionic valves, does amaze one. I have been to some dire places, and this tanks the rankings.

A Journey to Altrincham

I was in Altrincham yesterday, some 8 miles (13 kilometres) to the southwest of Manchester, attending the nearest test centre to acquire a new Microsoft certification on Artificial Intelligence (AI).

Whilst I had determined to do this for months, I struggled to get through the material. The German instructor on one of the Udemy courses had a good grasp of the subject, but I could not engage with the accent, the grammar or the delivery. It felt like extreme drudgery, and I abandoned all study with a sense of dissatisfaction and lethargy.

Finding New Momentum

Then, whilst having a long break in December after my birthday and Christmas (I tend to use my holidays for study and tests), I gained some enthusiasm for just completing the cycle and closing the books on this test before the end of the year.

I completed the original Udemy course and took another, gaining the view that I had mastered the material. I then got Google's Gemini 3 Pro AI bot to produce interactive flashcards, along with the code to make them portable and playable as standard HTML files.

However, when I tried the free practice tests on Whizlabs, the gaps in my knowledge were laid bare. I went back to the Microsoft Learn study material, which now included video rather than just text-based training. Where certain concepts were still not as clear, I got AI to provide a layman's explanation with examples and use cases. I use the Poe.com interface to access AI bots, which gives me access to the broadest complement of publicly available AI bots.

Discovering NotebookLM

I discovered Google's NotebookLM in August, but never really exploited it beyond the novelty it provided then. It is a virtual research assistant that takes input from sources you provide on documents and references to turn complexity into clarity.

As a note-taking and study tool, it has amazing benefits of transforming your sources into audio and video overviews, mind maps, reports, flashcards, quizzes, infographics or slide decks.

Curating 50 sources of material, including that which its Deep Research feature was able to gather, I produced an extended last-minute audio overview of about 37 minutes in length that covered every critical idea that might be covered in the test. I listened to it twice before I arrived at the test centre. That was my last bit of revision: listening rather than reading. The leveraging of AI to the maximum to ace an AI test.

I had 45 minutes to answer 46 questions; there were not just straight multiple-choice selection answers either. I got caught out in July 2022 when, having not played in the testing sandbox provided by Microsoft, I wasted valuable time understanding how to navigate the interface, though thankfully, I passed the test. On this occasion, I was done in just over 23 minutes. I rarely ever do a review; I ended the test and got a good passing score.

Looking Ahead

Obviously, there is probably a need for a piece on how I use AI for day-to-day activities at work, for study and other aspects of life, including the grammatical reviews of my blogs.

With the AI-900: Microsoft Certified: Azure AI Fundamentals certificate under my belt, that makes three certifications this year. I can only wonder what next year has in store.

Thought Picnic: How we weep more than the bereaved

Managing the inputs

I have experienced bad dreams, some quite vivid, usually caused by medication I am on, but I also have a very active imagination. I can easily conjure up anything, which is why I control the kinds of input that enter my thoughts, especially what I see or watch.

For that reason, I do not watch horror films; childhood memories of terrifying events keep me guarded about the conversations that reach my ears.

When I was twelve and in secondary boarding school, one night I dreamt that something terrible had happened, and I believed that dream. I was inconsolably distressed most of the day until I received news that everything was fine and that the situation had been a creation of my mind and imagination.

Controlling your thoughts

The mother of a friend used to enquire about him, but her thoughts were filled with worries about something bad happening to him. Although he might be prone to mishaps, I gently advised her to change her thinking and to remove her anxiety by thinking good thoughts when they had not spoken for a while. I told her to surround him with positivity rather than dread.

A certain principle applies: if you have nothing good to say about something, then say nothing. Similarly, I suggest that if you have no good thoughts about something or someone, abandon the negative thoughts and seek better ones for your own peace and well-being. Your thoughts do not necessarily control the person you are thinking about.

How we manage the influence of premonitions, foreboding, and anxiety depends on how we train our minds. If I wake up thinking something bad has happened, I do not immediately accept that as my reality without evidence. I am more likely to comfort myself with the thought that all is well, or to pray for peace and calm amidst the uncertainty—this is better than being driven by every gust of fear and doubt.

A ship caught in a storm will likely founder if the captain and crew do not keep calm, and lives could be lost in the process. We are the captains of our minds, managing the storms of thoughts that pass through them. Yet, we sometimes give these thoughts life by voicing them or acting upon them.

Living with better thoughts

I understand that after a cancer diagnosis, some people might be worried and concerned about me. I cannot fully imagine how they felt, but I was at the centre of that situation. I had the cancer; they only had their imagination. Perhaps if their thoughts had been encouraging about better outcomes, I would have appreciated their positivity to help my situation.

You cannot live solely by the thoughts of others, especially in adversity; you need sources of upliftment that dispel the worst fears. I did not dwell on how cancer might kill; instead, I listened to messages about healing, health, living, thriving, and being strong. Out of over thirty hospital visits, only twice did I have a chaperone—because I needed to keep my thoughts positive.

If I, as the person most affected, can maintain hope, and there are many in worse situations who are not thinking the worst about their circumstances, why then are others we consider close to us full of fear, anxiety, and worry on our behalf? It makes no sense at all. There might be an inadequacy in their development of positivity and faith.

Listening carefully

The other day, after telling someone I had had cancer twice, instead of listening to what I said, he began to talk about herbal remedies and the supposed causes of cancer. A musician by profession is quite a leap from an oncologist. I was so irritated by his ignorance disguising itself as knowledge.

I know the effects of chemotherapy and radiotherapy; they can be deadly, and side effects are horrible, but we do not abandon cancer treatment. In most cases, we manage the side effects and ultimately recover.

After all this rambling, perhaps the best thing to say is: please, do not weep more than the bereaved, worry more than the affected, or be burdened more than the truly infirm. Carrying an imaginary burden heavier than the real one is a feat beyond belief.

When we manage our thoughts properly, what might be pity or sympathy often turns into empathy. We walk that long, hard mile in another's shoes, understanding them instead of making it about ourselves, our thoughts and emotions shifting focus away from them.

It is well.

Photons on the Prostate - XV

The need for quality support

When it comes to talking about cancer, I have had the best support from a Cancer Support Nurse Consultant (CSNC) recommended through support services with my place of work. We have scheduled monthly meetings where for sometimes more than an hour we can address all my concerns and issues around dealing with cancer.

Our first meeting which was via Microsoft Teams, and I insisted on an audiovisual engagement rather than plain audio, we talked for about two hours, and it involved giving her a full background on the process to the discovery of cancer and attendant issues.

Macmillan Cancer Support, the Christie Hospital, and my GP have been supportive but what I needed most of all was someone ready to spend time listening, understanding, appreciating, and recommending how to navigate a cancer diagnosis through treatment and recuperation.

I dare say my engagement with Prostate Cancer UK was a distraction. I was well on the way to having active treatment based on the diagnosis of malignant prostate cancer, but they thought I should delay treatment for active surveillance. While anyone would prefer not to endure surgery or radiotherapy, I could not postpone treatment for the comfort of normalcy while cancer was having a gnaw at my prostate gland.

The usefulness of helpful advice

My CSNC is a registered nurse and quite knowledgeable about many of the elements around pelvic area cancers. Most of the progressive solutions I have had to manage the symptoms and side effects along with after-treatment conditions have come through our conversations. Everyone else was just at the end of a telephone, she was there to be seen and heard. It made a whole lot of difference.

In our last meeting we talked about emerging symptoms and side effects with bowel functions. The literature suggested with radiotherapy, people have more issues with the bowel than the urinary or sexual functions. I however had serious urinary problems that I hardly noticed if bowel movements were regular and working as expected.

She then suggested the documented side effects are not essentially a textbook expectation, that side effects can occur at any time during and after treatment in no particular order along with the fact that for some people, they might not experience some side effects at all.

Some outstanding concerns to address

I was recommended to keep a diary of nutrition and excretion patterns, noting the regularity of movements to find what might be the issue beyond the healing process from radiotherapy. While my energy levels are improving, I still find that I tire easily, my need to use the conveniences intervenes with my comfort, and I need to sit down after walks.

Much as I want to believe I am doing well; I am still not where I need to be. I must consider if a phased return to regular activities is needed. That conversation can wait until late in January. What I must do now is relax, rest, recuperate, and recover. Manage the symptoms and side effects as best I can while celebrating the gift of life.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XIV

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Thinking of the wisdom of crowds

Lifted from the doorman’s view

It may now be the stuff of legend, but I cannot find the story I read some time ago about how lifts or elevators came to be built on the outside of buildings. Apparently, a prominent hotel planned to close for a long time to install elevators that required punching holes through existing floors, the construction debris rendering the hotel uninhabitable for the duration of the project.

The architects had their plans up and things were ready to go, which would have put the hotel staff out of work for months. One of the doormen heard of these plans and somewhat quipped about why they had to close the hotel and whether it was not possible to consider building the lift on the outside, thereby keeping most of the hotel business open for the duration of the said project.

From hearing to using

Someone who could influence things heard this suggestion and got the architects and designers to work on this idea which as the doorman suggested was a better way to keep the hotel going while the new lift was being installed. After the completion of the project, the outdoor lift became a draw for the clientele and the public alike.

The wisdom of crowds in a broader sense is not so much about the multitude of ideas that come in when a situation or problem is posed, but the ability to sift through the many viewpoints to see what is viable.

Some organisations get advantages out of this more than others in knowing how to pose the problem, managing the scope of those who can bring new perspectives and having the means to assess the viability through discovery, determination, development, design, deployment, and delightful.

The struggle toward delight

Delightful suggests that the outcome is beneficial, enjoyable, profitable, working, and could be improved upon with the knowledge and experience gained, and inspire to do other things.

Then again, the wisdom of crowds when not looked at pejoratively would mean one is open to new ideas by finding sources of new perspectives especially from those not steeped in the profession or expertise, in what might be both a new pair of eyes and ears brought into the conversation.

You have to wonder if you are afraid to see things differently and that your premises are challenged to the extent that you are persuaded to adopt a different stance or modify a concept to accommodate variance you had not heretofore considered. I think it is a healthy thing and where you find the opportunity to be involved in such a situation, engage it, embrace it, and learn from it.

Postscript: There are books and further academic and research work on The Wisdom of the Crowd, fallacies, crowdfunding, groupthink and so on, this blog is just a general viewpoint on some activity I was recently involved in.

Thought Picnic: Believing better

Thoughts afloat

There are so many things that percolate in my mind about what I want to do ranging from fleeting thoughts, through surprising inspiration, earnest desire, daydreaming, and determination.

I have to content myself with the fact that the factory of the mind which actively conceptualises is not a production line of equivalent tangibles. Much is processed and necessarily delivered. You do wonder if the best use of mental energy is deployed at most times.

Hearing well

Listening is an activity I have devoted myself to more trenchantly, I listen more than I read, it is also easier to listen to something repeatedly because the use of language and the interpretation of context and intent is better reinforced when a turn of phrase pricks up your ears.

Then, maybe it is more than listening and it is hearing, just as observing is a lot more than seeing, as there is a perception within the senses that confers knowing and knowledge, and there is a deeper communication beyond the physical and mental to the spiritual that transcends the limitations of the senses.

Learning anew

It seems harder than it appears to be just as you are recognising that it is easier than you ever thought it was. It is the unlearning and programming that has become like muscle memory that is being challenged. To detach from the old and appreciate the magnanimous grace of the new, the insight that suggests what you always thought things were by way of traditions and practice are in truth what should have been jettisoned, if you knew better.

We all did not know better, we just continued with the tried and tested ways, thus missing out on the kind of revelation that upsets the orthodoxy to which every form and function is tied. I find myself questioning and assessing, wondering and wandering, seeking and searching, understanding and comprehending, that what I once believed is under review to believe better than to believe amiss.

Thought Picnic: Discerning insidious familial device

Sometimes fraught in thought

Finding the form of words to illustrate certain situations that are difficult to talk about would usually be an area of ability I would rarely be wanting or lacking. Yet, having harboured these thoughts for days, I finally began to gain a handle on things enough to express to an extent, how I felt.

We are essentially products of the environments and influences in which we find ourselves from childhood experiences and observations that many expect with the passage of time for us to forget through to the recent times where the occupation of situation might be both distracting and at the same time uncomfortable.

Abuse in its other forms

I seek not to commend myself in the ways that facing adversity and hard times has been borne with varying levels of stoicism and fortitude as much as with the help, support, and prayers of many who are acquainted with the circumstances.

In a moment of vulnerability, I was caught off-guard by parental device, and we usually are, when the focus was shifted from issue to collateral. Indeed, how well we are doing does reflect on others, just as the adverse might too. What it should never become is using the preponderance of the affected to press the point of your situation. The exertion of emotional menace can be insidious.

People forget the facts

I have a lot to say about many things, that I give myself to the patience of listening should not be misconstrued as acquiescence or acceptance, it is love, liking, respect, and even consideration that lends my ears to incident, inclination, assumption, and the paranoia that afflicts others to the point that it negatively impacts the listener.

People who have for decades cannot resolve their differences and then regale us with constant and unrelenting tales of woe that you have heard from time began, their stories seep into your narrative and could become your own story if care is not taken to understand what is at play.

During that conversation, it was implied that one had deviated from the kind of instruction one had been given from childhood, but that is a total misreading of the historical fact. Despite the good intentions at the time, I remember things quite vividly and differently. The experience was and is never one to which I would want to return. The path in which I seek better understanding and direction is quite different, but for the sake of amity over conflict, I have kept my peace.

The God loves me race

The things I remember should make me angry, in the particular, they should be totally unforgivable, but for the purpose of living, one should keep a tender spirit, even a heart of forbearance with an understanding that we all have many faults and limitations for which we have been forgiven not to impute the various infractions of others on them by total disengagement.

The race I run is a process of learning, the teaching for life will be valuable and the testimony at the end will be of wonder and beauty. I count my blessings even in the depth of despair and despondency that life gives hope, health is wealth, and the best is yet to come. God loves me, I just need to appreciate that more. My journey remains mine to pursue, if others are affected, they have run into my lane, and I keep my focus on my race.

Thought Picnic: Making allowances in support of others

Making every allowance

There is an aspect of character development that I strive to improve that is a work in progress, one where I am ready to make allowances with understanding and latitude rather than immediately assume, prejudge, and condemn.

I guess where I began that journey was when I realised that no matter what experiences I have had and how similar those experiences might be to another person, even if I could understand what they were going through, I could not equate my situation with theirs to the point that I felt my empathy fully embodies their circumstances. I must make allowances for variance and impact, or I risk dismissing their narrative in the context of mine.

Understand then appreciate

Part of that learning has included resisting the attempt to insert my story into their narrative even if I mean well by trying to assure them that they are not alone in their suffering. The art of listening attentively and registering with concern and humanity the experience of another is an exercise in both discipline and self-control we can all cultivate.

For instance, through personal experience, I know what pain is, the pain of cancer especially and the four different kinds of pain medication I took to alleviate the pain. When my pain medication patch fell off my skin, I laughed myself into almost delirium to generate endorphins as pain alleviated whilst the new patch took hold. Yet, pain affects people differently I try not to assume and assert I feel another’s pain just because I know pain, I understand what they are going through, but their experience can be so radically different from mine.

Blog - Laughter follows my hospital visit

Blog - Thought Picnic: My laughter and my pain

Blog - Let's treat the cancer and laugh

Even where I do not understand what is being shared, I endeavour to learn rather than react and negate, it is better I work with my ignorance to acquire knowledge than project the pretence of being fully educated even if that might leave me looking stupid.

Be kind in questioning

That is not to say one does not have doubts or one is yet to be convinced, much as engagement is inadvertently the art of persuasion which might or might not be successful, the line of inquiry should engender a quest for understanding rather than an immediate and brutal antagonism especially where one has a sense of disagreement. I have to appreciate that to whatever extent in depth or superficially and only if I have clear discernment, whoever has engaged me has fully thought through what they intend.

The questions are phrased in ways to help clear the blind spots to provide additional insight I learnt from my professional life where implementations are assessed now on the premise of why they have done something in a particular way, but on whether they might have seen the significance of another perspective. Be careful not to repudiate and put people you would be working with on the defensive.

Exert yourself in support

It brings to mind a question I have dwelt on in terms of certain opinions, ideas, or plans that have been presented to me, how can I best support this person in their quest for whatever they have purposed to do? If at the time, I have nothing supportive to add, I should apply restraint, the least I can do is listen and be neutral, and I could go better with some encouragement, beyond which there are opportunities and a fuller engagement to help them achieve their goals.

Much of this includes having a lot of patience, and a readiness to allow people to move at their own pace while they sort out issues knowing that your support, understanding, and love are present whenever they choose to update you. In some way, I also realise that I cannot expect that from others, this is my personal character development programme, others are also doing whatever they can to relate better to others.

For the simple need to be heard and understood

If only I was heard

When I asked my line manager some 28 years ago that I wanted to attend an assertiveness course, he scoffed at me saying there was no way I needed to be on that course, that I was his rottweiler in tough negotiations and I was more than articulate enough to get my point across.

On reflection, I should have been allowed to attend that course for the simple reason that I might have learnt something about being heard when I speak and being understood when I have spoken.

If only I was understood

There is something missing in my communication, no matter how hard I try to convey a point or a situation, some of my longstanding readers read me through a prism of experience and provenance, it is rarely situational in the context of the particular time and place. Dare I say, they do not capture the zeitgeist and I am left making multiple attempts to be heard and understood.

In some ways, I am heard but not listened to, the hearing or the reading creates a kind of awe of the mastery of language, which might fail in the efficacy of meaning. Invariably, the myth that I am a good communicator is just that, a myth, because everything I have intended has been lost in the superfluity of delivery without delivering the message itself.

If only it didn’t have to be in a rage

I tried in at least three blogs to shout out my helpless situation for which I had concluded that I needed therapy, it did and literally fell on deaf ears, it became a soliloquy when I thought it was broadcast communication from which those who read my runes could reach out to me to offer support and succour.

I must conclude I failed in that simple task of asking for help, getting some time, and eliciting the latitude of patience to allow me to sort my head out. In the end, it all came out in a rage, seething rage, untrammelled with raw emotion and worked up in utter exasperation and helplessness. Sadly, we sometimes just need to hurt a little to know that the pain is real, the truth is bitter and maybe we might just see let the chips fall where they might.

References

Blog - Thought Picnic: Stuck on the absence of desire

Blog - Thought Picnic: In the struggle to resume as I

Blog - Please, be at ease with me

My boarding school story still affects me

Parents in the know

I have been watching with rapt and engaged attention the developments on the Nigerian Twittersphere about boarding school life and bullying, that began following the unfortunate death of Sylvester Oromoni, a 12-year-old pupil of Dowen College in Lagos as a result of an apparently coerced initiation into a cult. [BBC News: Sylvester Oromoni: Nigerians demand justice over Dowen College death]

My boarding school experience which started over 45 years ago was a decision by my parent to give me a grounding in our culture and traditions, as we lived in the north of Nigeria and they were from the southwest, I was born abroad with a good few things well-formed, language and speech, mannerisms and attitude, I was somewhat a stranger not integrating enough into what should be a Nigerian.

Back home to black out

On the other hand, they also wanted to toughen me up as I began to relive the separation anxiety that I experienced in England. For I was preterm by 10 weeks and that was spent mostly in an incubator in Birmingham whilst my parents worked and studied in Walsall. I also had a bit of fostering and being moved around foster carers as they progressively could not find suitable ones, one even starved me that I took to stealing food out of the refrigerator when I was back with my parents. Odd behaviour, my mother thought until she found out what was happening.

Just after my 10^th birthday, the common entrance examination season for secondary school admission started, my parents were not looking for any schools near home, I was in taking exams in the old Western State and Lagos to the extent that I was away from home for over 4 months living with relations mostly met for the first time when they came to pick me up from the airport. For a while, I was with my cousins when the February 1976 coup happened.

Blog - Childhood: Shocked into adolescence

On my return home in late May, I already had another baby sister, amongst other things too distressing to talk about here and then as a listener with wild tales about paranormal activity between my aunt and our new house servant, I began seeing things, apparitions of otherworldly figures that my father dismissed as fantasy. My parents weren’t listening to me.

Blog - Thought Picnic: The reality beyond the augmented

A misfit adrift

I prepared for boarding school with much of what I needed to fit in wrong, my shorts should have been light green, they were grey, I could not tell if that was a typographic error on the part of the school or something my mother misread. I had a hefty machete to cut the grass when what I needed was the equivalent of a scimitar. This introduction to boarding school life was brutal and harsh, so I left essential personal health things undone and resumed bedwetting that rarely ever happened in the past year or so.

Soon, I was seeing things in the night, ghosts, I thought, and recited Psalm 23 all through the night until I was completely tired out. Amongst my classmates, I was in the younger cohort by an average of 2 years and were it not for my early development, I would have been picked on more, just as I was the butt of jokes and extreme ridicule.

That first term was torture and when news of my situation reached my parents, I know that my mother’s best friend tried to prevail on them to bring me back to the north, which they refused to do, confident in their reasoning that the boarding school experience was essential to my education and tough education it was I found ways to adapt and survive whilst keeping counsel of my own situation. My parents weren’t listening.

New terms of engagement

The Christmas holiday was spent in the village with my grandparents and my father came to visit for a week. In that time, we visited grottos and medicine men, had incisions in all sorts of places, drank concoctions, some too vile to describe. All to the goal of curing me of my apparent ailment or psychological illness, but never once did I see a professional, a specialist or a paediatrician in psychology or psychiatry, which with hindsight might have done me a world of good.

The first half of the second term, I spent as a day student living with my aunt because the boarding house could not endure another half-term of nightly disruptions from an apparently unstable child.

I returned to the boarding house in the second half of the second term and appeared to settle down to school. To my parents, their planning was working, I was becoming more independent and may be responsible. Responsible for some things they probably would not have liked me to be responsible for.

You get by even with the injustice

There was bullying and abuse, much that I try to forget, and I made friends with similar backgrounds, though I was more privileged in that when they were returning home for holidays, they got on trains to the north. I was picked up and taken to the airport to fly home, there are things where my parents really did lay out the red carpet for their son. Even when we moved from Kaduna to Lagos, at half-term and the end of term, the driver arrived in time to take me back home. No fuss.

In the last year at school, we returned for summer school which was going well for a few weeks when some amongst us looking for fun in their riotous youthful exuberance raided the girl’s hostel causing damage to property and harming some of the girls. Many of us were oblivious of what had happened, but rather than investigate, the Parents Teachers Association imposed collective punishment on all the boys, and we were expelled from the boarding school for the fifth year.

The vice-principal came to the hostels to see us pack up to leave, and she said to my hearing as she looked at a few of us that she knew we were not involved in that melee. I spent my fifth year as a day student, and it is a huge upheaval to my early education. For that unjust act, I have not forgiven Remo Secondary School (RSS) for that injustice from 40 years ago. I believe I would have had a better leaving school result had I stayed in boarding school.

My education was searing

The result of my boarding school experience is more far-reaching than I sometimes realise. For whilst, I am in contact with some of my school and classmates through social media, I have no enduring friendships. That time represents when I seemed to fall into clinical depression from which I did not recover or find any bearings for 5 years. It also took completely leaving my parents’ and home too. The boarding school experience had schooled me into preferring to be away.

I have not participated in any RSS old student association activities or offered any support for first the reason I gave earlier and out of the fact that part of the leadership has some of the people who bullied me in charge. It is strange that a couple of years ago, one of them attended an event I was at, I would not have recognised him and if I did, I most definitely would not have approached him.

Not another chance to do that again

The most consequential part of this boarding school experience and I was speaking to Brian about it is Nigeria. When I left Nigeria, I left for good. I have family and relations in Nigeria, my father, an octogenarian and my mother a septuagenarian, I have felt a bit shamefaced about not seeing them in a very long time, but the truth is we broke those strong affinity bonds much earlier in life when they were being strong parents.

I can forgive them the boarding school experience, but the result is the result, I am not inclined to get on the plane to see anyone, much as I love them and would probably miss them when they are gone. I do the necessary in supporting them as much as I can and that is where we are at. Boarding school shapes you, marks you, scars you, if you have a child in boarding school, be prepared for the unintended consequences. Yes, I am well into my fifties, and it is a wound that never healed, I just learnt to tend it and live with it.

Blog - Childhood: Ghosts and ghouls of my past

Blog - Thought Picnic: A child has memories that last a lifetime  

Moments of senior and tiresome abandon

The irksome numbers of time

It has been a rather hectic week, by which I mean, I did not notice the difference between 9:15 PM and 19:15 when I booked a restaurant table a few days ago, all the while thinking I had an early time slot until, in conversation with a friend, I noticed my error. I called the restaurant and was able to reschedule for 17:00. I must have been having a senior moment, for time is rarely something I get wrong.

It was a date in honour of a friend, one of my many exes I still have a good friendship with, though I have friends with literally all of those I have had affairs with if they have not withdrawn their friendship. By the time I was through the main course, I was drifting away, shutting down and dozing off.

I was both aware and tired that keeping up with the conversation was not getting any easier and he is hardly a slow talker, even under the influence.

A week of small crazies

It is the little things that have laden the week with apparent lethargy, the weather has taken a turn for mercury descending to zero and visiting a bone-chilling cold to anyone who ventures out, this along with the wind that lowers the temperature even more. My ordeal with the laundry service which started last week Thursday ended on Monday evening.

Calling the matriarch to celebrate her birthday started off nicely before it became distressing for both of us, an issue that needed my intervention beyond the activities once undertaken by an interlocutor, the delegation of responsibility had created an uncomfortably inadvertent and unexpected power dynamic that was difficult for my sensibilities.

At work, there was flux and in the things that demanded an interjection of wonder and surprise, it was not that which was in a particularly positive light. That with developments in South Africa that had me fielding calls and concerns along with the danger of scuppering plans. You do feel you want to lie down.

To listen beyond the hastened

An opportunity came to vent my spleen, I was being listened to for my perspective and view of things without the cloud of familiarity that excused a deeper understanding of things people assume are of no concern because they deem me unflappable. I could be my own greatest enemy, if I am read as people presume, without them asking to be certain of their conclusions.

When I got home, I was ready to crash, and I did take a picture to show I was not alert for serious engagement; it did not suffice, the phone rang, the sound awakened me, their satisfaction in seeing me was another half hour of working myself back to the stupor and sleepiness I thought I had a grasp of when I got home.

Thought Picnic: I am best at my own speed

We really do not know

Making assumptions about people, especially those you think or believe you know intimately comes with flaws and a wide scope for misunderstanding and erroneous actions. Each person regardless of their symbiotic dependence or interdependence on others comes with their individuality and uniqueness, whether they recognise that attribute or not.

For myself, I am unceasingly working to understand myself better as much as I seek to be a better person, fully aware of myself whilst being considerate of others. I don’t want to overreach and surmise that I can feel, appreciate, or understand fully what the other person is going through, much as when I am sought to listen, I would not want to insert myself into circumstances being played out in someone else’s situation.

Make generous allowances

In being aware that I should not insert myself, I also do not want to be either commanding or demanding. I believe in latitude and initiative, conferring autonomy with trust to the extent that people can act with control of the decisions they make and by so doing assume full responsibility for their actions regardless of the consequence. Ultimately, it means people would be far from deceiving themselves.

The furthest I would go in pursuit of getting a response I view would be beneficial to anyone is to persuade, the points would be made, and the scenarios would be laid out, however, it would be unfair and unreasonable to have conferred autonomy and then seek to surreptitiously resume ownership because of any level of involvement. In extremis, it would be to avoid pending disaster, but we are rarely at that point of intervention.

A result totally unforced

It is a strange case of reckoning that I was intimated of when a friend who I was quite concerned about told me, they felt that there was a purpose in their lives for which certain apparently self-destructive or low-esteem activities would be aborted to focus on the things that give them a sense of personal value and achievement with the possibility of impacting positively on their immediate community. I felt a sense of pride in hearing that without showing much of a reaction to it.

I feel my contribution to the situation was just peripheral, providing a welcoming and enabling environment, not being judgemental or accusative, being supportive in the insignificant and consequential things, and just being a friend as a friend should be.

Please, don’t push me

Reflecting on my situation, whilst I could be impulsive on some things, it is rarely with people. Even where I find myself considering actions quite drastic, I would err on the side of caution, restraint and avoid confrontation if I can help it. This state of mind is what lowers stress, eliminates sources of anxiety, and informs why if there is no need to be exerted on something, then there is no need to be exercised about it. I cherish my peace of mind as I love my life.

Indeed, this could be annoying to some who expect me to be assertive and forward, usually mostly to fulfil what they want me to do rather than what I have been persuaded and convinced to do. The fact is, whilst it might take time, I seem to get results without having to steer or arrest. It might just be that there is more to the power of example than the example of power.

Things get sorted out because the situation begins to favour the requirement, let things go their natural course and you will be rewarded by nature’s breeze of peace and wellness. I do not like being pushed, if I am going in a particular direction, I am happy with my own progress, for it is in that setting that I have control, order, and safety.

Being a present ear to listen

They come out of the blue

Sometimes, a stranger approaches you with a conversation about personal things that pertain to life and death. You never know what attracted you to them, but they lose all inhibitions and somehow find trust in the confidence of strangers.

The conversation starts easily as they attempt to gauge what kind of person you are. I have always tried to be courteous, respectful, and listening, with no idea if I can be helpful or not. The initial exchanges set the tone and they soon begin to unburden themselves.

Create new perspectives

One such encounter yesterday had a promising young man ready to take his own life because the relationship with his husband had broken down. It was a difficult issue, and rather than call the Samaritans he chose a random stranger he presumed looked mature and could be understanding of his dilemma.

You can be tempted to tell someone on the verge of suicide not to do it or assert the wrongness of that choice, but I have rarely been persuaded of that tack. Rather, I try to set new perspectives, drawing on my life stories of adversity and loss which at the time looked like there was no way out, the passage of time has made them into stories, told freely with many lessons of life learnt.

We live for a better story

In one last appeal to him, I said, we need to be around and living to get the opportunity to tell a better story beyond the betrayals, the tragedies, the pain, the adversity, the loss and much else. We must ask ourselves, how do we want our stories to end, if told by someone else? It was my hope that something out of our conversation might have gotten through to him to set him on a different course of action.

As it appears, I may never know what he ended up doing, I did not know his name, he was a young black gay man who was married for three years and the promiscuity of his husband had broken him to the extent that he wanted to end it all. When I checked this morning, our conversation had disappeared and with it, every trace of what might have been done in the heat of the moment or the cool of the night. In my heart of hearts, I hope he did not do anything harmful or terminal, I just wonder. May peace rule in his heart, his mind, and his life.