Hey there friend, I guess your weekend has been going great. Well, here’s something to spark up a reaction in your brain. I call it a hybrid.

What’s a hybrid? You might ask. Well, it’s a true story kind of thing mixed with pieces of my imagination. More like a cocktail of true life and imaginary tales. I hope you enjoy it.

The original message was sent in a broadcast message by one of the great minds I know – his name is Tola Adewunmi.

It was a bright afternoon in Lagos, I had just visited my aunt in her peaceful Lekki residential home. I looked at the sky, clear and sunny. I guess the ocean wasn’t going to flow into Lekki anytime soon like rumor had it. After bidding Aunty Jane goodbye, I put in my earplugs and played a podcast I had downloaded the day before. After about fifteen minutes of peaceful walking, I got to the fourth roundabout, it was livelier than the residential areas, with the usual traffic, cars hooting and shouts from bus conductors hustling for passengers. I boarded a commercial bus heading to Obalende. It was a rush to get into the bus as one trip buses were a hard find in these times. Fuel prices had gone up and everyone was looking for a way to make some sort of quick cash – the drivers and conductors expanded their profit margin by dividing the journey into two, the taxi drivers would call high prices at first to see if they can catch ‘scapegoat ajebutters’ and if you were unlucky you’d probably pay twice the fare, the price of common bread had gone up by fifty naira, every thing that could be bought with cash was increased except the regular ‘pure water’. As soon as the bus driver opened the door,  I quickly held onto it and secured a place for myself by performing a quick body movement stunt – something which I learned during my primary school days. The traffic that day was really slow-moving. I figured it was actually going to look like a 1-hour journey for everyone who managed to board the bus that afternoon.

We traveled for some minutes and got to the second roundabout when a woman boarded the bus. She looked like a forty-year old, and wore a white-turned-brown gown that reeked of drugs and dried blood. I suspected she was either a nurse as her uniform gave her away, or a cleaner at a hospital because of the drug smell.

Mister Man, DRESS!!! DRESS!” she shouted using her buttocks to challenge the young slim man near the door.

Are you deaf? Kilonshele?” She shouted again.

Every one was amazed due to her hostility towards this young man. He carefully shifted inward without reacting. We thought that was all. Ten minutes into the drive, the young man got into a phone conversation. He wasn’t talking too loudly, neither was he really quiet, but it seemed like this phone conversation got the woman uncomfortable. Before we knew it, she was enraged.

IS THIS YOUR PARLOR?” She shouted, using her palms to hit the man. My first point of thought was that they had an encounter previously, but the young man seemed utterly confused.

There was a lot of chatter in the bus that afternoon. I gently tapped the young man not to worry, with an expression that seemed like I knew what was wrong with her, sincerely speaking, I had no idea. She arrogantly paid her fare and argued with the conductor over a torn change then it was silence as we went down towards our destination. Not even the radio was on. As every one gradually minded their businesses, I tried to understand what was wrong with this woman. When we finally got to Obalende, there was only one answer that came to my mind


I see young and old men every morning on the streets of Lagos at newspaper stands, flipping through Complete Sports or Soccer Star arguing over things like Ronaldo being a better player than Messi, they take the arguments personal to the extent of throwing curses on their families and getting into fist fights. At a point where I believe they should be doing something productive with their lives, they are arguing over unimportant things. What could be their problem?


Having lived in Lagos for a good number of years, I’ve witnessed many acts that define frustration better than the Oxford Dictionary. And this makes me ask myself a certain question over and over again.

Why? Why is it that many people have lost their sense of calmness. WHY WHY??  Why are some people extremely rich and some others living in extreme poverty. Why do some people flow in great success, while some fail in flying colors like it were their birth right? Did God create some people to be happy and leave others sad?

Those were the questions I kept asking myself as a growing child living in Lagos Nigeria.

Dear friends, I’ve been able to discover and understand some simple principles of life that govern excellence, they are just overwhelming. Hopefully I’ll share some of them with you one day. Your future is in your own hands, this is time to for you strive for excellence, there is a giant inside of you yet to be explored. You may not be the best in everything you do, but you can be the best with that potential inside you.

Thank you for reading

– Tola Adewunmi

So that’s my first hybrid post. I hope you enjoyed it. I’m cooking up some more hybrids based on life’s experiences, I hope they get pressed!


[Tola Adewunmi is a third year Electrical Engineering Student in KNUST, Kumasi, Ghana, and was the President of the International Student’s Association for the 2011/2012 Academic session. He successfully held a youth empowerment programme – The Catalyst Summit, and is a motivational speaker with the tagline – Transformation Africa. You can follow him on Twitter as @tola_ade and add him on Facebook – Tola Adewunmi] – Information valid as at time of press.