An inspector calls again

Just moved in?

In the tenth year of my residency, I get asked questions like I had just moved in 10 days ago. “Are there any leaks?”, she asked. You know damn well if anything was not functioning, I would have logged a call. That reminds me, to save my manicure as apparently the union of nail technicians is on strike for better conditions of work and pay, my dishwasher needs looking at.

It was a house inspection by the letting agency that was first dated for the month before arriving 3 weeks later than intended. It just so happens; that the same inspection was conducted by the building managers a few weeks ago but I entertained the knock on my door this morning, without remonstrating too much about the obvious fact that these activities need to be coordinated.

I allowed them the run of the house as I returned to my desk to oversee the screens of engagement before me. Doors open, cupboards inspected, mutterings among them and then Jobsworth supercilious becomes her.

Hear it scream

My fire alarm and before I knew it, the riot act with every act of parliament, the law and whatever else was being read to me in the tone of an emphatic Gotcha! Heck, the other guy who was here a few weeks ago inspected the same fire alarm.

As she sang the refrain, “By law, it is the responsibility of the tenant to ensure that the battery is changed in the fire alarm.” I picked up my piano bench, moved it under the fire alarm, stood on it and pressed the test button. We were greeted with a shrill sound that no one had the readiness to shield their ears from and she was fully clipboard-equipped to my utter glee.

Then, I pressed the test button again which I think made her tick the required box, no apology but a full acquiescence to the fact that the fire alarm is working. By then, they must have felt fully welcome in my abode and before I could offer them tea and biscuits, they were ready to leave. What a shame, I was just beginning to enjoy their company. Not!

Men's things - I

Keeping an eye on it

When you get within a certain age range, you need to pay more attention to a few things, especially your health. I have attended talks, groups, discussions, seminars, and conversations about men’s health and ageing, these things interest me enough even if I do not seem to act on the much I have learnt.

I guess because I have usually had blood work done twice a year, I seem to be a bit conversant with health issues, my kidneys, my liver, bone health, and other indicators in the blood results that I chase up with medical personnel to have a handle on the issues when a result falls out of range.

One month on prescription folic acid and the folic acid deficiency anaemia is now a thing of the past, the last reading put it at borderline high when it was well below the minimum range hardly 7 weeks ago. The other things as red blood cell counts and thyroid activity we need to monitor over a longer time.

That erogenous zone of life

The elephant in the room, the prostate-specific antigen (PSA) test, that I have ignored and done nothing about for years. Friends report their experiences and I sometimes pretend not to be in the affected cohort. My GP even sent me messages inviting me to assess this facility, it is one of the more intimate men’s things that we find ourselves too coy to talk about.

Two blood tests later, in early February and late March, my GP called to have a chat and then immediately scheduled an appointment to have me felt up in a funny place. I duly attended and before I could draw a sharp breath, it was over.

Well, it is slightly enlarged but smooth, and a scan is needed just to be sure. This matter is important but we rarely want to attend to it, either out of fear or embarrassment, both of which can kill you if a situation could have been caught early, but left too late.

Deal with it early

After my many encounters with the medical establishment for all sorts of life-threatening conditions, this should be the easiest of matters to assess, review, and understand, and hopefully, after the scan, I might just lay my mind to rest, absent of any worry or anxiety.

You have to know, to know, that once you are over 45 and black, the statistics can be scary, but do not become a tragic statistic, make that appointment, have those checkups, know the situation or at least have the knowledge to face up to it and have it dealt with promptly.

“1 in 4 Black men will get prostate cancer in their lifetime. Black men are more likely to get prostate cancer than other men, who have a 1 in 8 chance of getting prostate cancer.” Prostate Cancer UK

Men’s things are also about life and well-being, better the finger now than a scalpel blade later.

Reference

Prostate Cancer UK: Black men and prostate cancer

Men's Things Blogs

Blog - Men's things - II

Blog - Men's things - III

Blog - Men's things - IV

Blog - Men's things - V

Blog - Men's things - VI

Blog - Men's things - VII

Blog - Men's things - VIII

Blog - Men's things - IX

Blog - Men's things - X

Blog - Men's things - XI

Blog - Men's things - XII

Blog - Men's things - XIII

Blog - Men's things - XIV

Blog - Men's things - XV

Let's delve into this

We delve deeper

Some parts of this blog started off as a comment on Facebook that I decided should not be left there but given a bit more context that might go into a series of discussions on language, expression, vocabulary, usages, culture, and influences. Other rather succinct views on this topic have been expressed as tweets on Twitter. God, forfend I suggest the other name.

The matter of the word ‘delve’ has been a burning topic for the past few days on social media, where someone of privilege and influence inadvertent revealed a bugbear about the use of a word in an email and attributed it to the use of Artificial Intelligence because by his assumption, it was an unfamiliar word and people do not write like that.

Now, I write this in the context mainly of my own upbringing rather than in the broader spectrum of how Nigerians have reacted to this as I 

The different cultures

I was so miffed, even annoyed; the bounding dunce, (and I use that charitably to suggest he is slow to see his own blind spots), in every other area except for his computing nous and venture capital clout, who is just over a year older than I am, was British-born but left for America at the age of 4, meaning my Britishness at that time was even more impactful as to appreciate the good use of the English language than him.

He was schooled in the American system, and what he has retained are vestiges of the English aversion not so much to pomposity, but that unfortunate inability to pigeonhole the unfamiliar into trenchant class structures that remain significant in Great Britain to today.

The education context

Imagine being so well-spoken and still having an accent, it upsets them no end, they cannot believe we had schools that did Eton College for a pittance abroad. (We had reading, writing, comprehension, and spelling classes at the primary schools that I attended in Nigeria, which had a large foreign contingent of pupils and staff.) You attend to every variant of the same question, “How do you speak (or write) better English?” You want to answer, that I had an exceptionally good primary education.

Obviously, using a rich vocabulary is seen as trying to be clever, writing mellifluously is considered beyond our capacity, it is damned with faint praise as flowery. We are just too well-read to use English in a perfunctory and unimaginative way.

The class issue

Every inner self-loathing was inadvertently embodied in that tweet about delve, so unawares. We need to begin to understand that how people express themselves reveals just as much as they intend to say as it is about who they are. We are already self-profiling to observers and to an audience by our conduct and conversation.

On the class matter, I had to tick a box in 2024 that asked about my social mobility status. Well, I was never working class and there are settings where sophistication is effortless that it is more than attainable for many, in speech, comportment, or just the basic sense of self. The world will never attain true egalitarianism, but we can make the world a better place if people use their privilege to lift others rather than knock them down.

In other situations, it is to allow one’s worldview to be open to new ideas, understanding that cultures differ, usages are myriad, and diversity suggests there is not just one perspective. Even in the quest for simplicity, what is simple varies and that is subject to too many variables that we cannot control that we make allowances and gain new opportunities from stretching the limits of our purview.

On the delve matter, there was a bigger issue at play, especially as Paul Graham and his family have returned to the UK since 2016, we have not begun to delve into the many layers involved. I can see through him as through plain glass. Yes, I also use AI in my writing, it is Akintayo Intelligence.

A play for time

Playing with time

Time is one of those things that seems immaterial to many, that the need to keep time is rarely important. While I am not obsessed with time, I like to have time, keep time, know time, take time, and use time. It matters in a lot of things, time is precious.

Yet, when it comes to setting appointments, I prefer to defer to others, and this might seem like ceding control to setting the agenda. We should not confuse agenda with schedule, the agenda is a series of points to discuss, and the schedule is when you have chosen to have that discussion.

I accept there might have to be adjustments for time, manner, location, and some other variables. However, when I concede the setting of the time to others, I already know I will be on time.

Playing on time

If you have then set the time and for whatever reason you have failed to keep to time, one element of irresponsibility has inadvertently been displayed, especially if parties to that arrangement have not been duly updated and informed you will be late.

Communication is key, but what I find amazing is for someone given all the opportunity to dictate the time not meeting conditions they had set for themselves and others.

I consider keeping people apprised as both a duty and a sign of respect. It is valuing their time, the idea of being fashionably late is pomposity passing for self-importance and insouciance.

Playing to time

Maybe punctuality is not a virtue, being punctilious saves you from avoidable stress in travel, appointments, and decisions.

There's not much to anyone who abuses or misuses time, wasting the time of others. Don't call me impatient if you are late, and if you are doing me a favour, please, do not take liberties too.

This brings me to African time and the picture I found in a restaurant convenience in Franschhoek, South Africa, my observation then was it was a bespoke watch, not for the purposes of keeping time.

African Time, Franschhoek, South Africa

Flicking my ingrowing hair

The urge

My penchant for making small talk leading to interesting conversations and possible friendships is one I enjoy very much, but it does not always work out like that. There are times I have spoken out of turn creating avoidable embarrassment or out of certain curiosity or enthusiasm, put my foot right in it, I might well sink into the quagmire of mortification.

Nature itself can be cruel in the joke she plays on us. I saw a man the other day who seemed to have patterns of intriguing amusement shaped at the back of his head as if a barber had created designs that looked like two big eyes sitting on the edges of a maple leaf-looking representation.

The purge

In my amusement, I said to him, those look like eyes, to which he responded, alopecia. All I could say was, “Forgive me.”, even as I upbraided myself for being too forward and probably not observant enough. Then who would have thought the loss of hair would come in such uniformity as to look like it was designed rather than a natural thing?

Then hair has its many stories between those who want it to grow in some places they do not need it to appear and those who cannot grow it for the want of trying, out of loss or what nature intended.

The scourge

The many jokes made of how your hair is cut or shaped, the malevolence of the Pọmbé haircut that took an inch off all the sides, it seemed you have a rag placed on your head, or when it was all taken off and I was called Jagoo at school. Why my dad allowed that to happen still escapes me.

Now, that I have male pattern baldness, another side of ribbing comes into play. Yes, this time, I was supposedly flicking my ingrowing hair. Revenge is a dish best served cold; I am waiting the table of that cool customer.

Homeless, not hopeless

Among us all

There are moments that you observe as you walk around your city that present you with a time to reflect on the many blessings that greet us each passing day.

The grip of adversity can rob you of every kind of agency, the belief in yourself, the appreciation of human kindness, the facility for hope, and even a desire to live.

Hurdled in corners all around my city are the homeless and the destitute whose many stories are seen through just their immediate deprivation. There is more to them than what we see. Yet, there is no magic wand to wave with either determination or the almost limp-wristed suave of a sprite from the other world to change things.

Just a little

The burden of the issue is immense, you want to walk away and pretend certain realities are too great to countenance, but I saw a man in distress, he was crying and that touched me so deeply, that I turned and went to him to ask what the problem was.

He had a catalogue of woe to drown fish in its own habitat and I asked him to give me 15 minutes, he had probably heard that too many times to care about the truth of good intentions until I returned just about 20 minutes later having been distracted by an unfortunate situation.

His surprise at seeing me again, yes, I made a promise to a total stranger, but it was not just about him trusting me but a demonstration of knowing that my own words must count for something to myself. It is hence important not to vow rashly, for in not meeting it, your words begin to lose significance to you first and then to others.

More in him

In our exchanges, I found that he was going to be 50 and about to be a grandfather, you just never know if you do not engage, interact with, and deign to see another regardless of stature. One little thing can restore hope, give a sense that there is a tomorrow and help appreciate that no man is or remains an island.

He said he would lie down and say a prayer for me, I cannot remember the number of times we hugged, but that little moment of turning tears into smiles should be the broader story of our shared humanity.

I believe in angels, and many have been sent my way, in the depths of despair there is strength that tells you a better story is just being written.

Annoying annoyances

What they see they see

What people’s impressions of me vary to the extent that I mustn't allow those viewpoints to influence or constitute my mode of expression. To be viewed as truculent, easily annoyed, and quick to take offence can only be a failure to invest in knowing me rather than one indicative of who I am.

I know the people I have intentionally given the cold shoulder and I have more fingers to count on one hand after I have accounted for them. I endured years of drunken opinions of seething disdain he became one of whom it was expedient to ensure any future dealings were terminated, after an unequal and trying friendship of just over two decades.

A gardener weeding engagements

I am not a difficult person to get along with, I however actively curate liaisons, acquaintances, friendships, and engagements, knowing what to cultivate and what to leave to lie fallow and allow to be reduced to insignificance. Frequently, it is not a reflection on them but a realisation that nothing worthwhile is to be gained from the continued relationship after inadequacy and frustration.

Maybe as an individual, I am quirky and strange, probably funny in a certain way, the things I allow to bother me are looking to be a better person and I am beginning to understand I need grace more than discipline. I might even consider counselling and therapy for some things, but those are personal journeys that anyone else might well find some profitable development for themselves.

Mirrors of keen expression

What I find insightful is and this might come as a surprise because, in this same blog post, I have suggested one aspect is not a reflection in terms of the choices of engagement, but a clear reflection if reviewed with introspection is the way people think about you might well be something about themselves too, their needs, their interests, perish the thought about their neediness or their insecurities which they then project on you as unfulfilling of a certain expectation.

How you maintain your composure when confronted with such situations becomes part of the development of character. It can be overlooked or ignored though there are times when a frankness of opinion might be bruising but immensely helpful, daily, I seek wisdom in knowing when either is right. One can argue that discernment may not be present in the state of inebriation which I never indulge or when aroused from a state of the soporific that is required in typical circadian rhythms.

Gun control of tempers frayed

Invariably, I am usually not annoyed when people think I am annoyed, I am usually annoyed because people assume I am, out of some work in their relationship that they need to work on, and then project that onto me as some inadequacy, I guess that is a trigger as much as a gun needs one along with good gun keeping by ensuring the safety is always on, just in case the gun falls into the hands of a two-year-old, of whom you cannot easily demand they give you back the gun as you would a harmless thing.

Why am I writing this blog? Just a few thoughts about the fact that making some allowances for everyone might help in understanding better rather than misunderstanding leading to bizarre conclusions. This month marks 4 decades of many things including a very cherished friendship if my memory serves me right. Anyway, like Pontius Pilate did say, I have written that I have written.