Giving it up to God! : Muyiwa & Riversong at Indigo o2.

‘Let every thing that hath breath praise the LORD. Praise ye the LORD.‘ Psa 150:6

Dominus vobiscum, pilgrims!

In all my years covering gigs (and it hasn’t been that long!), I don’t believe I’ve ever covered a gospel concert.  Yes, I have covered the Blind Boys of Alabama, but this time I’m talking of a pentecostal gig with people up and about praising God, no holds barred.  None of all that “Oh, Let’s sit down with a dignified reserve. I mean, we are English!” (By the way, don’t let the picture above fool you; that was taken during a quiet worship moment).  Nah, it was up and at ‘em with a whole lot of thanksgiving in the heart and then some!  Now, it’s not like I haven’t tried getting accreditation to these gigs at times; it’s just that it’s been a ‘challenge’, for want of not getting into details.   After yesterday’s gig, I reckon I really ought to make more of an effort!

It was an outstanding gig, one of the best I’ve been to in a while. It was great coming to a gig and knowing that it’s all about giving thanks to God.  Whether you were a believer in Christ or not, you couldn’t help but not be touched by the power of giving praise to the Almighty.  There is something spiritual about praising that does wonders.  No, I’m not talking about standing up and reciting from a hymn book.  To each his own, of course, but when you praise Him, it should be a joyous moment.  If it could work for King David who was near buck-naked when he danced before the Lord with all his might (2 Samuel 6:14), then how about the rest of us?  And speaking of thanks, someone asked me once, “Why thank God?” Ah-ah!?!? What do you mean, why not thank God??  Despite the ups and downs we encounter in life, there must be at least  10 things you could thank him in just one morning. For starters, the ability to wake up, go to the bathroom for your morning ablutions and sigh sighs of relief!! (I’ve always wanted to put this instance into a blog!! )

It was also great seeing the Lord using Muyiwa and the rest of the team ministering to the crowd. I’m not going to lie to you: I felt really at peace yesterday; despite having to dash off early due to (un)foreseen situation. A bit of shame, really: it was going to be a session of praise, African Style!

Anyway, this blog isn’t really about Muyiwa & Riversongz per se, but rather, the magnificent, majestic, almighty Lord of Lords, King of all Kings.  I could type every word I possible know in praise and worship, it just wouldn’t be enough to say ‘Thanks, Dad’.  I’ve never really made the opportunity to mix my gig photography and faith in God, so what better way than now?

Thanks for checking the blog out!:-)

I’m a Nigerian Photographer, Not a Terrorist!

With over ‘2000 potential ‘terrorists‘ congregating with their ‘weapons of mass destruction‘ which most have been bought on a Buy Now, Pay Later agreement, you’d think that there’d be a sizeable police presence at protest.  You’d think so.  It was actually quite the opposite.  Said ‘terrorists’ were amateur and professional photographers that turned out en masse last Saturday at Trafalgar Square, London, to protest about the unfair treatment in recent years by the police citing ‘Anti-Terrorism Laws‘ against taking pictures in public areas. (In case you’re wondering what it is, it’s section 44 of the Terrorism Act 2000, which allows officers to stop & Search without the need for “suspicion” within designated areas in the UK. Check the Home Office page for more info.)  The protest was organised by the ‘I’m a Photographer, Not a Terrorist‘ Group.

In a day and age where terrorism is a real, clear and present constant threat, it is important not to undermine the police and other security services in doing their jobs.  That said, it’s silly in many instances where you’re stopped from taking pictures in public areas.  If you’re dumb enough to want to shoot the MI5 building, then you only have yourself to blame.  Yet if you’ve taken a shot of a Chippie (Fish & Chips) shop in Kent and arrested for that, then something is amiss.  I’ve been on the receiving end 3 times by the Police and Special Constables and actually treated like a criminal for the serious crime of taking pictures, so I reckon I have a justifiable argument.  While we’re on the subject of photography and terrorism, has anyone even gone and arrested the people at Google for ‘Google Earth‘? If anything, that’s a visual buffet for information!

On the day, I actually counted 6 police officers, and not a single Special Constable in sight, except this guy!

As a matter of fact, I’m probably going to be stopped again with my gear , and with Nigeria noted now as a ‘Terrorist Prone‘ nation by the Yanks, it’s just got a bit tougher for me.   Maybe it was a good idea in the end NOT  to fly that Nigeria flag at the protest.

What I did find interesting about the protest, though, was that with such a turnout, there was not a single ‘celebrity’ in sight, which was nice. We did have a dog come out to support us:

Vobiscum!

Corporal Punishment, Nigerian Style…

“Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him.”-  Prov 22:15

Whenever I meet up with friends, we go down the route of nostalgia where there’s always one major thread that weaves us together: Parental discipline. No matter how different your lives were growing up in Nigeria, everyone has a horror story to recount on being at the recieving end of discipline because we thought we could get away with stuff…and then some.

Now, what would constitute as a crime to warrant discipline, Nigerian style? Well, it depends. One well-known misdemeanour is talking back to your Elders. That’s a Golden No-No. As a matter of fact, that’s not even an option. You open your mouth to argue, and I don’t care how liberal your Nigerian parent is, but the last thing you’ll see is a blurred callous hand dropping a heavy payload of backhand slap to your mouth. “Eh?!! I am talking and you have the audacity to talk back at me?? Ahh.. “

Or how about those instances when you lied to you folks, and you thought you got away with it. Or so you thought until had dinner, watched tv, and  you’re in bed, ‘safe‘ in the ignorant knowledge that you reckon you’ve pulled a fast one on your folks. Hah! Foolish mortal!! While you’re busy sleeping, your parents, the stealth commandos, have made their way into your room, blocked all escape routes, and proceed to lay down a barrage of whackings in your still slumbered state. And with each hit is a well choreographed line that sync’s as one : “WHY-(WHACK!)-WERE-(WHACK!!) YOU (WHACK!!) LYING??? HEH!! DON’T -(WHACK!) DO-(WHACK!) THAT!!.. and so on and so forth.

How about  those classic moments when you embarrass your parents by taking gifts without their say so. You’ve just guaranteed yourself a world of pain. Or when you’ve done a crime so bad, that your dad tells you how he feels before he pounces on you: “Ah!! O ni paami!! (“You will not kill me!“) “Mi o pa baaba mi, e wo na o ni pa mi ki asiko mi to!!” (“I did not kill my father, and you will not do so before my time!!“)

There’s a huge range of ‘tool’s that are normally at a parent’s disposal. It could be the cat of 9 lives, or commonly known as ‘Koboko‘. Or The ‘Pankere‘, which was a small, thin, but highly flexible dry bamboo stick. Worst time to have that hit you was during the harmattan season.

Or how about infamous ‘Stoop down’? It’s a form of  punishing torture where you have to balance on one leg, and then stoop your whole body down and hold yourself with your index finger. Try staying at that angle without changing over for 5 minutes, and I can guarantee you a place in the Guinness Book of Records. Whoever dreamed up that torture must have had spare time on his hands.

There were always different ways of being disciplined, and you just knew it was going to be painful. You could either be ordered to go and “Get your friend… not de black one.. de brown one!!” (for the uninitiated, it means the belt)

I can’t speak for everyone else, but 99% of the time, I did deserve the discipline. I was wayward, rebellious, and I thought I knew it all. There were some very abusive parents who would use the guise of discipline to take their frustrations out on their kids. Yet, the question stands: Should we spare the Rod?? Even using the Rod at times still does not ensure that the recipient will turn out just nice. I mean, still look at the corruption coming out from Nigeria from every tier possible.
Irrespective, I’m still a great advocate for discipline. Not beating someone to a pulp, but whatever warrants the punishment.

Do you reckon that everything I recollected above could be common practise in today’s PC’d civilised & liberalised UK? Nahhh.. Can’t happen. Today’s kids’ know their ‘Rights’, would call Child Services, and can even sue for emotional stress. Think about it: why did some of your African friends leave the UK when they reached the age of 8, and never came back until adulthood? Something to think about….

Which is why I feel that The Nigerian and British Government should have a programme where wayward kids in the UK spend a couple of months in Nigeria. Money back guarantee that it would work like a charm. Imagine a kid from London talking back or swearing….in Nigeria????  Visualise it.

(**This blog was written from personal experience and recollections from friends who grew up in Nigeria. Not every African parent can be stereotyped based on what i have written**)

Glastonbury 2008 Day 3-Recap

Thus concludes another year at Glastonbury, and may I just say that had it rained all over the weekend, it would have been the last Glastonbury for me. Then again, they’d probably have been famous last words.

Right now, I am tired and have to get myself sorted out. However, on the 3rd day at Glastonbury I did learn and observe the following:

Because you write for one of the national tabloids doesn’t automatically guarantee you exclusivity to certain areas, no matter how much you blag. ☺

If you armed every person that came down to the festival (excluding all those under 13) we’d have a full-fledged army to invade a country. Then again, with what’s going on in Iraq, probably not a good idea.

Call me conservative, but having Amy Winehouse perform, with her present condition and all, was not the best move at all.

There is a deeper meaning to the term, ‘Power Trip’

Saying ‘please’ & ‘Thank you’ can make all the difference at times.

Without a shadow of doubt, this has been the best Glastonbury festival that I have been to. Yes, it has had it’s challenges and ups * downs, but it’s been fun all the way. I’d like to take this moment to thank the following people for making the experience worth it:

Terry (thanks for the lift!)

The press team at the Jazz Stage: Simon, Lois, Peter, Derek, Mo & Wozz ( I owe you dinner, Woz!).

The guys at the Goan Fish Curry Stand.

The lovely security girls situated at the Jazz Stage. (Yes, there were actually some nice security personnel for a change!)

Koichi-San (I had the nerve to tell him that he looked like Mr. Miyagi. Talk about stereotyping!!)

Here are some highlight shots of the performance from the day:

Leonard Cohen:

Manu Chao:

King Solomon Burke:

Eddy Grant:

Billy Cobham:

Before I sign this blog off, may I just take a moment to say how I truly feel about this piece of set flower design that was supposed to depict ‘green’, but ended up being abane to my visual creativity on the Jazz Stage:

Die, die, a thousand deaths, ye devilish contraption of distraction!! May you be uprooted and not ‘germinate’ for the next year! May whoever thought you up initially have the bright idea of having this ‘kitsch’ say to him/herself: “Oh, this crap that I have created might just actually be a major problem for the camera crews and photographers from shooting the acts! I know: I’ll get rid of them!!”

You’d honestly hope that’s what he/she’s thinking…

His father’s son: Seun Kuti at the Barbican

If there is one thing that we Nigerians do and do very well, it’s to have fun. If we are going to dig deep into our pockets for a ticket to a gig that probably cost a fortune, we might as well enjoy every penny of it. So anyone not a Nigerian or never familiar with how Nigerians conduct themselves at music gigs and was expecting a sedated gig yesterday evening at the Barbican during Seun Kuti‘s gig was sorely mistaken. I have been blessed to have gone to a number of gigs at the Barbican this year alone, and I can confidently say that not of these gigs was as engaging or interactive as this gig. Even before Seun came to the stage, most of the audience was up and about dancing down the aisles. Yet, there were some English couples who just looked so out of place. You couldn’t slap these people to have a smile. I’m sure I read on their faces, “Oh, how ghastly!! These people are actually dancing at the Barbican! Have they no shame?!?!?” Yeah! As if most Nigerians and other admirers of Afro-Beat really give a damn! Even before the gig started, you could tell that Nigerians were on the premises. “Ahhh, baba alaaye!! How far?!?” and other chest-beating salutations in their loud voices.

I have to say that Seun Kuti is a carbon copy of his dad, the late legendary Fela Kuti. Seun exudes a charisma and stage-showmanship that not many performers can pull off. I must admit that he’s dancing was a bit camp, but then again, look at the way Mick Jagger struts around like a endangered dodo! And while on the subject of dancing, may I just say that Beyonce or Shakira or any of those so-called dancers have NOTHING on the butt-shaking women that danced on stage yesterday night. Truly, be able to triangulate your derriere in multiple directions while being stationary is a gift!

Anyway, here are a couple of shots from the night. It’s about 12.14 am, and I have a busy day at work tomorrow:

Being Bald & highlight shots from African Soul Rebels 2008

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Bald is good. Fact! You don’t have to worry about losing you locks later in life; shaving costs are at a minimal and most importantly, God only made a few perfect heads… another fact! (Just kidding!) Not everyone can pull of the bald look (Look what happened to Poor Britney!) and if you do attempt to shave, pray you have the ability to grow your hair back again. Another good advantage to being bald is that should you ever be in a fight, your opponent has nothing to hold on to.  I train in martial arts, so I would know!  Ever seen two women fight? The first thing they grab is hair! Chei!!  I’ve already written about baldness here, but I’ve had someone just staring at my palette, either out of wonderment, horror or even worse: trying to stalk me! DUN-DUN-DAAAAAAA!

On a lighter note, yesterday saw the Africa Soul Rebels 2008 at the Barbican. Headlining the gig was Awadi, Salif Keita and Nigeria’s Tony Allen. It was a packed out event, and the show really did show that Africa has a rich, diverse quality of music and just pigeon-holing these variant musical genres under ‘World Music’ is a bit of a travesty. Just my opinion. Anyway, shots from the night:

Salif Keita:

Tony Allen:

Awadi:

Close encounters…

So, yesterday night was the normal rush hour for people to catch that last minute train from work. As anyone with commuting experience will tell you, there is a 99.9 percent chance of you ramming into someone. It’s just one of those things.

So, I was on my way training at London Bridge and had a near miss collision with none other than ye mayor of London, Red Ken. That’s right, Mr Livingstone, with his Detective Colombo trench-coat and his scarf wrapped around his head like an English Ninja, nearly smacked right into me. Of course, thanks to the ‘Ak Tube-jitsu’, I managed to counter his move and left him to make a dash for probably an important appointment. (which he actually was!)

To be honest, I actually found the encounter very interesting.  Here’s a Mayor that, think what you may about him, actually puts his money where his mouth is when it comes to transport.  Some people would actually abuse their position, what with an entourage and such.  It reminded me of the last time that I was back home (Nigeria) and I was stuck in traffic for a while because a ‘very important Government official’ was coming on the same road, thus creating a huge tailback.  You had the ‘Mobile Police’ with sirens blaring and ‘koboko’ (whip) indiscriminately lashing out.   Turns out that all the ‘fun-fare’ was for the State Commissioner for Housing or something trying to get through.  Of course, everyone around was livid, but there are certain arguments you just can’t win with a trigger happy cop.  Funny though: can you imagine that happening in UK?

Childhood Imaginations

I wrote a blog some time ago about ‘childhood nightmares’. It’s time to go back into time and remember those moments of childhood imaginations.

There are two such instances that really stick out. When I was a kid growing up in Nigeria, I remember seeing a woman draped in her veil ‘Burkhas’. Right off the bat, I thought one of two things: that she was either a ‘stormtrooper’ from the Star Wars Movies or worst, an evil ghoul ready to take my soul! Do you know how much that used to freak me out?!?!? (This is what happens when you sneak up late at night to watch a horror movie at the age of 11!!) So picture me, in my primary school clothes trekking back from school and encountering a whole group of women dressed like this on a Friday going to the mosque?? I nearly had a heart attack and probably would have been knocked over by a ‘danfo‘ bus simultaneously.

I even thought members of the Celestial Church of Christ were weird when I was a kid. Every Sunday, I’d see members of the congregation make their way down to service and I either used to think that they were chefs or bakers, all because of their white apparels. I used to imagine there was a big feast taking place every Sunday, and I wanted in on it. My Dad stopped that idea in its tracks even before it took root. “You were born a ‘CATOLIK’, You will die a ‘CATOLIK!” Man, you don’t even want to know what my crazy mind would be up to when I used to go to Mass and confession when I was a kid.

Anyway, I honestly thought I’d be in India now, but sometimes we can’t always get what we want. So, here’s a picture I took when I was out there 2 years ago, and this was at the Meenakshi Temple, Tamil Nadu, India:

“Get Me out of here”… Nigeria Style!

During the normal banter at work that we tend to have, the conversation turned to popular culture television, in particular a British programme called, “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of here!” For those of you who have no idea what the show is about, it involves past celebrities who have had their 15 minutes of fame but still want to squeeze the juices out from the clock, or reinvigorate their ‘celebrity status‘. The participants are dropped off in a ‘jungle’ in Australia or somewhere exotic and expected to complete tasks while simultaneously make complete morons of themselves. In my opinion, it’s pointless, brainless programming that somehow manages to bring the viewer ratings in. But I digress from my rant.

So, while my colleagues are arguing over the merits and supposed importance of said show, I suggested that the programme makers might want to consider my spin on the show, which I’d like to call, “I’m in Nigeria, Get me out of here!!” Now, before you chest beating patriotic Nigerians go all, “Ah-ah!! Why are talking like that?!?!? You are disrespecting your homeland!!”, hear me out: I honestly believe that many of these pampered wannabes need to have a slap of reality. So, drop them off in the middle of Oshodi or Agege Market with a number of tasks that they’d have to take up. A good challenge would be either riding an ‘okada‘ or hanging off a Molue.

The second task would be to navigate their way, and if possible, negotiate with ‘Area Boys’.  There would also be rapid fire questions to test their IQ about the state of politics in Nigeria, and for an added bonus, to memorise at least 20 of the 100s of abbreviated acronyms.  The possibilities of extending this show into a good ratings series are endless.  I’m telling ya: a show like this would not only educate, but also demonstrate how versatile Nigerians can be.

Anyway, I should be having pictures coming up soon. The London Jazz Festival is kicking off, so it should be fun.

Nigeria sueing tobacco giants..

So, I came across this news story on the BBC Website:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/7083202.stm 

and this thought crossed my mind: “If the Nigeria government is successful in winning such a case, what would  eventually happen to the billions of dollars from the payout? I mean realistically speaking, would it even benefit the common man, considering Nigeria’s track record when it comes to private public spending by the Public Office!”

I’m just saying what many people are thinking.  It would be interesting to know what people think, though..