If you were there in January, and later in April, when I sat with Mitchell Elegbe in his house in Lagos, you might have felt what I felt; that this man is a quiet one but his kind of quiet is the instinctual kind of quiet.
When the euphoric effect of coffee hits, it won’t be out of place for the drinker to feel that the beverage is a hard drug. All hard drugs are controlled, if not absolutely delegalised. Which is why coffee used to be illegal in several countries, including Saudi Arabia. In Constantinople, the government used to flog drinkers and execute anyone caught with it.
There’s the story of the plumber who arrived to fix a leaking faucet in an old man’s house. This was after the old man had tried for several hours to stop the drip-drip of the tap and failed.
Because PR is mostly about making the news, public relations firms all over the world are rethinking the old models of their practice. The lines between advertising, experiential events, and media activations have disappeared. The reasoning these days is that you could conscript any of these other areas of mass communications to gain profitable media attention, a lot of which may also be free and worth millions of dollars.
Lindaikejisblog.com is no longer on Alexa’s top 10 list of sites in Nigeria. For about a decade it was there at the top and only got pushed down when the likes of Naij.com first burst onto the Nigerian media scene. At the time, you’d also find Bella Naija and YNaija on the top 10. Now, none of these blogs are in the top 20. So what happened to Linda Ikeji?
When we were boys in the 90s, we liked Shabba Ranks. You don’t know Shabba Ranks? Okay wait. His dancehall was beautiful but Shabba himself was ugly. And I say that with all due respect.
Okay, that’s reckless hyperbolism. My grand arrival in that famed continental magazine was anything but sudden. That story took me all of three weeks, plus a couple of extra sleepless nights—factoring in interviews, research, transcriptions, rewrites, edits, and reverts. But one day, just as I languished in one of those Lagos traffic jams on Alfred Rewane Road, Ikoyi, I saw Ayeni Adekunle and Steve Babaeko on the cover of Forbes Africa and I was like, Wait, that’s my story.
She’d warned me again and again about my extreme reliance on cashless banking. Did I listen? No. Then one day, we went to the cinema to see John Wick 3. I got to the till. whipped out my Zenith Bank card, gave it to the box office lady. She shook her head. “Cash only. Sorry, POS not working.”
Somebody said Rema freestyles like he’s from America and drops singles like he’s from Ajegunle. People are wicked. On the real though, what Don Jazzy is doing with this dude is genius yet simple. There are two principles at play here:
You probably hate your tailor. If you don’t, at least you approach him with great trepidation. This is because, most times, he holds your clothes for an eternity. He makes promises he never fulfils. You’ve missed many outings because the gentleman just can’t keep an appointment. But wait, do things
There’s something called the Morning After Effect. Nope, it’s got nothing to do with alcohol nor does it refer to athletic sex. It’s totally about music. Yes we realise that music is like an addictive drug for some people and many sexual encounters do demand a fitting soundtrack. But, for this special episode of our life-disrupting discussions, let’s consider the Morning After Effect of Afropolitan Vibes.