#23 Emotions people feel, but can't explain.
Thread;
1. Sonder: The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.
2. Opia: The ambiguous intensity of Looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.
Premier League Player of the Season.
Man Utd Player of the Season.
FWA Footballer of the Year.
PFA Players’ Player of the Year.
The 2025-26 season belongs to Bruno Fernandes.
SOMETHING IS HAPPENING TO THE FOOD WE EAT AND NIGERIA NEEDS TO START ASKING SERIOUS QUESTIONS
When was the last time you personally saw a major, sustained food-safety inspection in your local market?
I ask because Nigerians are beginning to notice changes in the food we buy, and instead of dismissing every observation as nostalgia, perhaps we should start asking questions.
Vegetables that people remember releasing deep-green pigments during washing or cooking sometimes don't behave the same way.
Some varieties of yam no longer cause the itching people traditionally associated with handling certain yams.
Potatoes don't always leave the same stains on the hands.
Some ginger sold today seems to have nowhere near the aroma or pungency people remember.
And then there is beans.
Ask older Nigerians how long beans used to take to cook, then compare it with some beans bought today. In certain cases, the difference can be remarkable.
But here is where we must separate legitimate concern from speculation.
None of these observations, by themselves, proves that chemicals are being added to our food. Crop variety, maturity, soil conditions, breeding, storage, transportation and post-harvest handling can significantly change colour, texture, aroma and cooking characteristics.
That is precisely why regulators should be investigating rather than leaving Nigerians to speculate.
NAFDAC's own mandate includes regulating food and chemicals, preventing substandard and unwholesome products from reaching consumers, and combating adulterated products. Its current strategic plan even sets a target of 800 surveillance operations annually.
So Nigerians deserve to see the evidence of that surveillance where food actually changes hands.
What pesticide residues are being detected in our vegetables?
What chemicals are traders using to preserve produce?
Are substances being used to accelerate ripening, soften food or extend shelf life?
Are beans being chemically treated anywhere along the supply chain?
How frequently are random samples of beans, yam, vegetables, ginger and other staples taken from Nigerian markets and subjected to laboratory analysis?
These are questions for NAFDAC, the Federal Ministry of Health, agricultural regulators, research institutes and state authorities.
And this isn't paranoia. Nigeria already has laws prohibiting counterfeit, adulterated and unwholesome processed foods, while NAFDAC's own food-safety framework requires controls against food-safety hazards.
We shouldn't have to wait until people start falling sick before asking what is entering our food chain.
If the food has changed because agriculture has changed, explain it.
If new varieties are responsible, tell us.
If storage practices are responsible, educate us.
And if dangerous chemicals are being used anywhere between the farm and our plates, FIND THEM.
Food safety should not be something Nigerians have to investigate with their noses, palms and cooking pots.
🚨 COMIENZA EL APAGÓN MUNDIAL DE PLAYSTATION 🚨
🔥🎮 La comunidad acaba de iniciar el #PSBlackout: 7 días enteros sin encender la consola, sin iniciar sesión en PSN y sin gastar un solo euro en la tienda.
🗣️ ¿El motivo? La decisión de Sony de matar el formato físico para 2028 y decir que "no somos dueños de lo que compramos".
🤔 ¿Te unes a la huelga o crees que a Sony le da exactamente igual? 👇🧵
#Playstation #PS5
A left back actually training like a LB, practicing real game scenarios.
Meanwhile Dorgu is taking his 60th shot cutting in from the right whilst his “coach” shouts “FINESHHH”.
I have been thinking about something lately, and the more I think about it, the more disturbing it becomes.
A lot of Nigerians became poor without doing anything wrong.
They didn’t stop working. They didn’t become lazy. They didn’t suddenly become irresponsible.
They simply woke up one day and realised that the money they had worked for could no longer buy the things it used to buy.
Think about someone earning ₦100,000 a month.
The person still wakes up early every morning, goes to work, puts in the same hours, probably works even harder, gets promoted occasionally and does everything society says a responsible person should do.
Yet every year, that person seems to be able to afford less.
At some point, ₦50,000 could buy a reasonable amount of food for the house. Today, you can enter the market with the same ₦50,000 and genuinely wonder where the money went.
Nothing happened to you.
The economy happened to you.
And I think this is something we don’t talk about enough.
Imagine working hard for years, only for circumstances completely outside your control to quietly reduce the value of everything you have worked for.
You didn’t lose your job.
You didn’t lose your salary.
But somehow, you lost your standard of living.
That is poverty too.
And this is why I struggle with the way we sometimes discuss palliatives.
Of course, when people are hungry, you must find ways to help them immediately. There is nothing wrong with providing temporary relief.
But surely, the bigger question should be:
Why did millions of working Nigerians suddenly need palliatives in the first place?
If a man could comfortably buy a bag of rice from his salary a few years ago and today he needs government assistance to buy that same bag of rice, giving him rice may solve today’s hunger.
But it has not solved the actual problem.
The real problem is that his labour has lost value.
And perhaps that is what we should be obsessed with fixing.
How do we make the Nigerian worker’s income valuable again?
How do we make ₦100,000 buy more next year, rather than less?
How do we make food cheaper by producing more?
How do we reduce the cost of energy and transportation?
How do we build an economy where salaries can actually keep up with the cost of living?
Because when I think deeply about it, perhaps one of the greatest things a government can do for its people is not to keep giving them money.
It is to build an economy where the money they earn has value.
There is dignity in being able to take care of yourself from the product of your own labour.
There is dignity in a teacher being able to feed a family from teaching.
There is dignity in a nurse being able to pay rent from nursing.
There is dignity in a young person working an honest job and gradually seeing life improve.
People should be able to look back after five years of hard work and say, “My life has become better.”
Not, “I earn more money today, but somehow I can afford less.”
That is the part that keeps bothering me.
Millions of Nigerians are not asking to become millionaires overnight.
They just want hard work to make sense again.
And maybe that should be one of the simplest ways we measure whether our economy is actually working:
Is the ordinary Nigerian who works hard becoming progressively better off, or progressively poorer?
Everything else is secondary.