It is always good to follow the fundamental counsel that suggests that you know thyself. We live in the era of information overload but when you know who you are, updating new information relevant to you makes you better, effective and relevant in the society. 
You won’t be those folks who wake up every morning seeking to join the bandwagon of what is trending. The fine approach to staying up to date on a situation or field where you are well-informed is to have a blacklist. Knowing what to shut out and avoid distraction.
My memories are precise and my vision incandescently clear, yet I live very much in the present. After all, if you notice what’s new and incorporate it with what you know, you’ll remain well informed not just for your personal benefit but for the benefit of your society.
I use myself as a litmus because there is no other I know like I do myself. Imagine a police chief who has has been to every house, met every resident in his jurisdiction. Hearing about the changes in town are enough for him to stay on top of his job.
“The deluge of information being created in every corner of the world, though, means that it’s really unlikely that we’re actually well-informed. Knowing what’s new isn’t sufficient to keep us informed.” Being informed then must mean knowing what is relevant to your purpose.
Learning can be made very interesting. I use names of people whose paths have crossed mine to teach patterns and identify characters while minding the fallacy or prejudice. There was a certain boy I met in Primary 2. He was such an animated character, who studied others keenly.
Let us call him #EmmObukofe for this purpose of this excerpt. Emm mastered the art of demonstrating IWF moves we saw on our black and white TV in those days on concrete. From Mill Mascara’s drop kick to Michael Haye’s Strut. He was strong & entertaining. Loved by all.
Emm never wore sandals for all I remembered. His uniform was in a different shade. His teeth were brown and his hair tell tales of their angst against the comb and water. But we loved him all the same for his fun antics and entertaining spirit. But here’s the catch...
I knew Emm had a deeper tale to tell, but needed to create a distraction and give people something to focus on. It wasn’t long before I realized the thorn that buffeted him on the inside. I loved Emm and made him my sidekick (as a Class Captain then).
Let it be known too that I had my dumb side as well. I was crazy about Mints and it so happened that an uncle visited over the weekend and gave me 5-One Naira notes. This was 1983. The gesture however intoxicated me and I lost it. I took the money to school, & started showing off
Of course Emm (my sidekick, bodyguard and entertainer) was by my side all through, with his arm around my neck most of the time. The notes were securely in my breast pocket as I imagined...until my return journey home, without the money. I was devastated, deflated and confused.
Even Emm helped me search for the money and dramatically emptied his pockets to show his innocence. I loved him and believed him. Never even saw him as a suspect. He was my guy and I was his. The thief must be someone else outside our fold. These were my deluded thoughts.
I learnt a deep lesson from that event and trust my mum with the ear-full on that incident. She played that record until it skipped. I never saw her reaction from any negative direction. I took responsibility and vowed to do better and be better. Months later...
...Emm called to speak to me on a personal issue asking that I promise to forgive him regardless. I felt there is nothing the only boy in my generation that could perform a drop kick on concrete would do that will be beyond forgiveness. I just wasn’t thinking deep then.
So I bloody promised.
Emm confessed to robbing me and a whole lot of other miserable kids who had been psychologically rewired having been traumatized by several unsolved misery of cash disappearance in class. At first, I was stunned, I demanded that he get serious and prove to me how he did mine.
He said he pulled out the money from my breast pocket while I was laughing hysterically at his performance (distraction). He showed me with a paper and it clicked. Then I went further to struggle with my cognitive dissonance demanding to know how and where he kept the money.
Then for the first time in my life I saw the use of what was called “in-pocket” at the time. It was a small pocket designed on the band of his shorts. Actually meant for coins and built for stealth and anti theft by bullies. I couldn’t argue again. I was had. I was distraught.
All the pains of the event came flooding in like it just happened. I was hemorrhaging emotionally and I felt like summoning Thunder and Lightening to strike him dead that moment. I loathed the earth upon which he stood. I was full of rage and wrath. I was hurt, cut real deep. 😞
I was reduced to a mere mortal with frailties despite being looked upon like a demigod who saw through all. I was gutted and ashamed on my sentiments but despite this, I was one who honored his words. I had to forgive him. It took a while but for my integrity sake I had to.
#EmmObukofe died to me that day just as my sentiments did. I never prayed to experience myself in such a state ever in my life journey. So before you box anyone, please know where they are coming from. Something cemented our convictions. If I trust you, please don’t betray it.
These key information build our being and create a long lasting impression relevant to our path in life. As a Policeman you can’t afford to be vested in a case, you won’t solve it and you will make mistakes 98% of the time at the expense of the tax Money of the collective.
No one all over the world write creative narratives like Nigerians. The “Nigerian Letter” by Nigerian Princes till date are still wrecking havoc across the globe ensnaring the greedy in the name of 419. Same as the testimonies of lawbreakers seeking a way out from apprehension.
Blacklisting is key ladies and gentlemen. Not every one or every information is worth your while and attention. Learn to filter both the things you give your time to and people you hang around with. The environment matter in the growth of any flower. Who are you hanging out with?
...Read the Book... #TheEmergenceOfTheMechanic
