Insomnia, Libraries, and Loose Ends

Last Workday Feelings

As yesterday marked my final day at work in 2025, my Out-of-Office notice simply stated that I would be returning in 2026, without specifying a date. It made yesterday feel like the start of a weekend, which it wasn't, but your mind tends to play tricks on you. Then, I’ll be channelling Brian.

That feeling had one benefit: I wasn't too bothered by the nighttime insomnia that affected me more than expected. By the afternoon, I was barely able to concentrate or stay awake. I had to ask to leave early, and it still took another 90 minutes to exit the office.

The Mandatory Training Dilemma

At home, I enjoyed a good lie-in, but I couldn't shake the thought of the mandatory training I had to complete before the year ended. I needed to get it done quickly before genuine holiday feelings set in. However, I must admit, I have commitments to certain social events that prevent me from leaving Manchester soon.

I planned to finish the mandatory training at the central library, which has a large reading room. The downside was that if you don't arrive early, you might not find a socket for your laptop. When I finally found a socket, it wasn't working.

Back to the Office

Soon, I was struggling, but I got halfway through the course before deciding that heading to the office would provide everything I needed to complete my tasks for the year: connectivity, lighting, comfort, familiarity, and ambience.

Colleagues were surprised to see me back, especially since I had already said goodbye most of the day before. Brian guessed I might be the last to leave, as I had arrived just before 3:00 PM. I didn’t pursue that conversation, since he could easily have asked me to leave the office before I finished.

Mission Accomplished

I completed the mandatory training on Agentic AI and scored top marks in the assessment, then did another Health and Safety course that wouldn't be due for another month. I seized the opportunity to do it now, and it was best to get it out of the way.

I can now effectively close for the year. Any activity or study from this point onward can be undertaken at leisure, without the pressure of deadlines. As Brian prognosticated, I am the last one in the office. It also means I won’t have to return until 2026. What a wonderful year it has been.

Strength to Endure: A Year of Recovery, Work, and Gratitude

Jolly Off the Year

As my year of work concludes today, I am filled with wonder and gratitude for all it has been. For so long, I have had the opportunity to finish the year on or just before my birthday; that's one of the benefits of it falling just ten days before the end of the year.

A Year of Significance

Many things make this year significant. A year ago, I was recuperating in Cape Town after radiotherapy for prostate cancer. It was also a difficult time; we had barely enough to make ends meet, but for the generosity of friends who contributed to help.

Although I should have extended my sick leave, I was eager to return home and regain some normalcy. From my experience 14 years ago, one of the signs of recovery was returning to doing what you once did: work, travel, the everyday routines, even if there was barely any strength to cope.

The Return Home

I returned to Manchester on the 30^th of December to find my home in complete disarray, and I had a house sitter for the seven weeks I was abroad. After about 20 hours of travel from door to door, I still don't know where I found the strength to run the vacuum cleaner around the apartment while keeping my composure at the state of my home, the occupant aware of when I was returning.

On the 3^rd of January, I signed on my work laptop and informed my managers that I would be back on Monday, the 6^th of January, and we would take it as we went. I did not use a paced return-to-work plan but dove straight in. Aside from the two-week break I took at the end of August into September, I have worked every single day, bar public holidays and hospital appointment days.

The Body's Remarkable Capacity

The body’s ability to adapt and condition itself to the challenges of a working environment, without what I had previously experienced, is admirable. The side effects of fatigue, nightly insomnia, bladder incontinence, and a fluctuating voice, notwithstanding, strength grew to endure and thrive.

There were times I wondered if, by the will of my spirit over the exhaustion of my body, I was doing too much and not adjusting pace, momentum, pressure, and ease enough. Thankfully, I had great support from my manager. He demonstrated much emotional intelligence and empathy as I pushed myself, sometimes being the first in the office and the last to leave.

The People in My Circle

Brian, my daily strength and support; Kola, my friend into the fifth decade; Funmi, who took me from the office at closing during the summer months; colleagues who were kind, understanding, and considerate; and the professional support personnel who listened, advised, and counselled. I could not have had better people around me.

To a stranger, they wouldn’t realise this was a man, 18 months after a prostate cancer diagnosis that required active treatment starting 15 months ago. Then, in September, the PSA readings were the lowest they have ever been. I read stories of men whose results were over 40 times the highest reading I had in March 2024.

Gratitude and Blessings

God, I am grateful for Your mercies and loving kindness.

To top it all, I still had 14 days of annual leave at the start of the month and agreed to work five more days this year, with the plan to carry those five days over into 2026. On the eve of turning 60, it has been a wonderful year. I am blessed beyond measure, and that is my testimony, for I live to tell better stories. Thank you to all who made 2025 the year it was, and there is more to come.

When Technical Debate Meets Workplace Dysfunction

The Facts Always Win

In a lengthy set of exchanges on a technical forum, we tried to resolve what became an exception to the rule that proved a process was not functioning as intended or designed.

It was the second of such conversations where, again, one assumption about facilitating something could not be proven by the evidence gathered. My engineering background compels me to seek out and gather the evidence proving a point. Once I have that evidence, I can only be dissuaded with superior data.

My work life is filled with many such arguments where, as far as I am concerned, electronic data is more reliable, convincing, and conclusive. If you cannot present the evidence of the facts in play, then you are left adrift, subject to illogical premises redolent of clutching at straws.

Poorly Reading the Room

I appreciate that I can be quite forceful, but I make no apology for that. Whilst I am neither infallible nor omniscient, I am quite thorough and won't mind painstakingly reviewing whatever viewpoints I have reached if there is any doubt that the means for making those assertions are suspect.

Caught in the flow of these conversations, someone mistook the technical commentary for social banter. Taking exception, he suggested we take our liaison to a private space and, once we had consummated our tryst, we could return with the baby.

You pause and wonder what had got into them. You might take into consideration that they might have had a bad day, but to intrude and insinuate in that manner was uncalled for. The fact is, I have to countenance many impolite, uncouth, bad-mannered, and ill-disciplined people in the managerial cadre who exhibit little respect for their reports.

Another Place, Another Face

Having been a freelance consultant for three decades, I am quite likely to understand this more and better than those who have only been the archetypal corporate person. Anyone has the prerogative to shimmy and slide up or down the greasy pole in obedience and obsequious genuflection for pecuniary advantage. I have seen the best and the worst of the lot, but not at my expense.

My interlocutor was having none of it. Just one unfortunate abuse of privilege and an inadvertent level of tone can quite seriously piss people off. Our accuser was swiftly told off before a feeble apology came in response. I do not have to always be the vocal contrarian, and, likely, my card is already marked, but I am unperturbed.

There is an art to office politics and the power plays of the little-minded that amuse no end.

If the axe is dull,
And one does not sharpen the edge,
Then he must use more strength;
Wisdom is profitable to direct. Ecclesiastes 10:10

We've been at this game long enough to know where to use a dull axe, how it needs to be sharpened, when to use more strength, and wherefore the wisdom to see people for who they really are. In the same vein, all is vanity, vanity.

Essential Snobbery 101: Revisiting discretion and how we share

Opening to strangers

Considering the topic of my last blog post, the importance of discretion becomes increasingly relevant. I suspect we tend to share much more information with strangers, viewing brief encounters as fleeting and inconsequential, than we do with people we know well.

However, there are different levels of comfort with friends, colleagues, and family compared to strangers. We might overlook that any conversation, regardless of familiarity, can seem more interesting and meaningful to our interlocutors than it appears to us in the moment.

There is clearly some research and writing about why we tend to confide in strangers, the people we assume we will never see again. By that assumption, one might wonder about the embarrassment that could arise if a future encounter brings an indiscretion back to mind.

Holding one’s peace

There was one such conversation I could have fully engaged in, as familiarity might have caused me to let my guard down. It concerned remuneration and rewards, though it focused on how poorly longer-term engagements were being recognised through promotions and appropriate pay.

Opposing that was the absurd situation where titles do not necessarily entitle the holders to better pay than the staff they manage. Although the discussion called for some disclosure, I chose to observe rather than contribute.

Then, the following week, everything that could be deemed absurd happened, and I was grateful not to have been overwhelmed by the urge to speak, despite having several opinions to express. It remains clear, regardless of the setting, that discretion is the better part of valour.

Thought Picnic: Are We Protecting Them or Ourselves?

Seeking Protection

I often reflect on interactions and conversations I have experienced. Sometimes it relates to what I have written, and I wonder if there were better ways to present my ideas or express myself.

These reflections are about how others see us or how we wish to be seen, and the circumstances that unintentionally create an impression different from what was intended, through omission or commission. As a result, we fail to represent ourselves as openly, honestly, and transparently as possible.

Even more problematic is the influence of assumptions that limit or constrain the image we project in others' minds. You vicariously suffer for assuming they cannot handle certain facts because of your perspective on their frame of reference or worldview. The question then becomes whether we are bravely protecting them or fearfully protecting ourselves.

Curb Your Loquacity

This causes us to steer clear of issues amid the complex mix of norms and differences that clash between inquiry and response. The direction of the conversation becomes less certain as we aim to conceal rather than reveal. It would have been better to directly tell the inquisitive to mind their own business rather than be teased into volunteering more than is comfortable.

Navigating the intersections of cultural settings is an art. In the broad spectrum of communication, knowing when to be cautious and disciplined enough to steer the conversation away from the curiosity of others cannot be an afterthought.

Yet, you cannot predict how a conversation might develop, and then you wonder how such exchanges in certain communities follow the same pattern of overly curious questions.

When Dame Anna Wintour appeared on The Rest Is Politics, beyond the lines of enquiry from her interviewers, her self-possession reflected discipline gained from responsibility, brand, and institution, shaping her responses. In the end, she was asked what Donald Trump would need to do to be invited back to the Met Gala. She paused, took a sip, and said, “Thank you for inviting me.”

Ideas from AI

I went on to ask AI, What are techniques for redirecting overly curious inquiries?

Drawing from your reflection on protecting oneself whilst maintaining composure, here are practical techniques for managing intrusive questions:

1. The Graceful Deflection

Acknowledge the question without answering it directly:

• "That's an interesting question, but what I find more relevant is..."
• "I appreciate your curiosity, though I'm more focused on..."
• "That's quite personal, but what I can share is..."

2. The Anna Wintour Pause

As you noted in your piece, sometimes the most powerful response is strategic silence followed by a polite exit:

• Pause deliberately
• Take a breath or sip
• Thank them and change the subject or conclude the exchange

This creates a boundary without confrontation.

3. The Gentle Boundary

State your limits with warmth but firmness:

• "I prefer to keep that private, but thank you for asking."
• "That's not something I discuss, I'm afraid."
• "I'd rather not go into that, if you don't mind."

4. The Question Reversal

Turn the inquiry back towards the questioner:

• "Why do you ask?"
• "What makes you curious about that?"
• "That's an unusual question—what's prompted it?"

This often reveals whether the question is innocent curiosity or something else, and sometimes makes people reconsider their intrusion.

5. The Humorous Redirect

Use light humour to deflect whilst maintaining rapport:

• "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you!" (with a smile)
• "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"
• "Ask me no secrets, I'll tell you no lies."

Humour must suit your personality and the relationship; otherwise it can seem defensive.

6. The Minimal Answer

Provide just enough information to be polite, then move on:

• Give a brief, surface-level response
• Don't elaborate or provide follow-up details
• Immediately ask a question about something else

7. The Honest "No"

Sometimes the most respectful approach is directness:

• "I'm not comfortable discussing that."
• "That's not something I'm willing to share."
• "I'd prefer not to answer that question."

This works best in relationships where mutual respect exists.

8. The Professional Shield

Reference external constraints or responsibilities:

• "I'm not at liberty to discuss that."
• "That's confidential, I'm afraid."
• "My position doesn't allow me to comment on that."

9. The Reframe

Answer a different question—the one you wish they'd asked:

• "What I think you're really asking is..."
• "The more important question might be..."
• "Let me put it this way instead..."

10. The Time Boundary

Defer without committing:

• "That's not something I can get into right now."
• "Perhaps another time."
• "Let me think about that." (with no intention of returning to it)

---

Developing Your Technique

As you noted in your reflection, navigating these moments requires:

Self-awareness: Know your boundaries before entering conversations where intrusive questions might arise.

Practice: These techniques become more natural with use. The first few times may feel awkward.

Cultural sensitivity: Different settings require different approaches. What works in a professional environment may not suit a family gathering.

Confidence: Your discomfort with a question is legitimate. You needn't justify your boundaries.

Reading the room: Assess the questioner's intent. Are they malicious, thoughtless, or genuinely interested? Your response can vary accordingly.

The key insight from your piece about Dame Anna Wintour is particularly relevant: her discipline came from responsibility, brand, and institution. Developing your own personal discipline around what you share and what you protect is equally important. It's not about being secretive; it's about being intentional with your vulnerability.

Remember, as you wisely observed, it's better to directly challenge the inquisitive than to be "teased into volunteering more than is comfortable." These techniques give you the tools to do exactly that, whilst maintaining grace and composure.

To be bedecked in Yoruba attire

The Chinese are coming too

Yesterday, it occurred to me that it might be a clever idea to make an appearance on my birthday dressed in something different and traditional. So, I went online, searching for “Nigerian clothes shops near me.” You can buy many things online, but this requires visiting a clothing store.

I could have gone to Bolton, about 18 km away, but you needed a booking, and what was displayed on their website seemed like it might be a wasted journey. Other websites or online presences suggest many still have not fully appreciated the need for a useful online presence.

Strangely, the Chinese are also involved, mass-producing African clothes in China, but none of the shipping would arrive until after Christmas. That is as widespread as you could get on Amazon. Besides, heaven forfend you get something and find it so ill-fitting that the only person you can call is a ghostbuster.

Ethnic Moston Lane appears

Refining my search a few times did not lead to better guidance, but one area kept coming up: Moston Lane, Moston, just about 5 km from Manchester city centre. Everything African, or specifically Nigerian, seemed to be dotted along the lane like an ethnic suburb, with the sounds, smells, and sights of a faraway land.

Having never been that way before, even after almost 12 years of living in Manchester, getting a bus there seemed a bit adventurous. I was not going to count 22 stops to my destination. It was more sensible to take a taxi. The driver was a chatterbox and on his way to the mosque in Moston. What a coincidence.

When I got off, I headed to the address of the shop I had found from my Google search. The address was a barber's shop; I couldn’t see any clothes on display. One disappointment, but I felt I was on the right street for what I needed.

Dressed without distress

About six doors down, there was a shop full of dresses, shoes, and fashion accessories. It was also a tailor's shop. I stepped in, and the proprietor, sitting at her sewing machine, asked what I was looking for. There was plenty of material on the shelves, but asking a tailor to create something bespoke this close to Christmas would likely lead to disappointment.

She said she had ready-to-wear costumes: bùbá (top tunic), ṣòkòto (drawstring trousers), agbádá (billowing top gown), and fìlà (cap). That set makes a complete outfit, called Yoruba attire.

I was shown three complete, ready-to-wear sets. I chose one and asked for the price, which at first seemed steep, but I don’t think I had much choice. With a matching cap, I scored a good find.

We started speaking in English, then switched to Yoruba. Certain inflexions from me betrayed a foreign accent, but I held my own enough to be praised for my Yoruba fluency.

She was inquisitive to the point of interrogation: my interests, women, sex life, children, and much more. But what can you reveal to a prophetess of a white garment church before you’re seen as on the road to perdition?

Proposed friendship from here on

Her persuasive manner left you unprepared, and next, she showed me a restaurant. I paid for something to take away while I settled on pounded yams and ẹ̀gúsí stew. I returned to her shop to find her trying to fix a gaudy sequined dress so flashy it was an eyesore.

The woman who needed the dress came in, and I could have suggested she find something better than trying to squeeze into this corset that belonged to a burlesque troupe. I even helped attach the clips at the back of the blouse-cum-corset. Some jobs you should avoid, even on a slow day.

She gave me directions to a bakery where I bought two loaves straight from the oven. However, the traffic into town, which was gridlocked that evening, meant the loaves were cool by the time I reached home. We exchanged numbers, and she called. I might return to Moston Lane, but it cannot become a regular haunt.

Blessed and fortunate is who I am

The Quiet Event

I have been asked several times what I am doing for my birthday, and the honest truth is, I am not doing much; perhaps only if something happens that I probably have no part in. The sense of occasion seems to overwhelm me; I would prefer to withdraw into solitude rather than participate in some celebration.

The last significant event surrounding my birthday was when I turned 49. It was all arranged by a young friend, and there were many guests, most of whom were acquaintances rather than close friends. As the celebration reached its peak at my friend's apartment, I withdrew to rest. I was already in dreamland when the last guest departed.

Yet each revolution around the sun does call for a celebration. I mark each one with thankfulness and gratitude. I am profoundly fortunate and blessed, which I recognise without dispute or argument.

A Dreadful Condition Loomed

When I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in June 2024, I was advised to commence active treatment. I told the doctors I had other plans: I was going on holiday, and it was only after returning that I would begin to consider what lay ahead.

My plan at that time was to spend time with Brian, but it was also a difficult period. I was reading correspondence between doctors about my case, and besides learning of the cancer diagnosis over a week before meeting with the specialist (due to mishandling of my records), I also saw that their chatter suggested the cancer was malignant.

To a layperson like me, I did not realise that all cancers are considered malignant in medical terms. Though in reality, the meaning wasn’t far off: it was evil, malevolent, dangerous, invasive, and possibly aggressive as well.

Batting and Battling in the Mind

Not only was the prospect daunting, but it was also frightening. I had to take control of the thoughts rushing through my mind and fill my listening with sermons about healing and living. Sometimes a creeping cloud would interfere, emboldening thoughts I was trying hard not to entertain: the idea that this cancer, which I could neither see nor feel, had the capacity to kill.

I fought off these invasions of morbidity and mortality, encouraging myself that I would see the better end of this ordeal. I would walk through the valley of the shadow and fog of cancer to emerge into the brilliant light of the sun, into green pastures and beside still waters.

The goodness and mercy of God, along with faith in the same, restored my soul and gave me hope. It was not going to be a journey without support for both the good times and the bad.

Looking to the Best Ahead

As it turned out, after completing radiotherapy, I took an extended sick leave and spent seven weeks in Cape Town with Brian. I had wished to celebrate this occasion with him; my hopes did not turn into concrete plans, but I do not view that as unfortunate. Opportunities once lost can be reclaimed, even after a temporary setback.

We will do more of this, not just in visits and fleeting moments, but also in the near future of living together, where absence would be reserved for the mundane and routine daily matters, such as work and university.

Every morning will begin with a smile, a kiss, and a prayer, and every night with gratitude, a kiss, and joy in our hearts. We live to tell better stories, and my mouth is full of testimonies of such stories.