HR forced me to hire a junior systems administrator last week.
He's 23 years old and showed up on day 1 carrying a physical notebook.
He spent his first morning looking at our backend and realized my automation scripts were written in 2008.
He asked me why we're running deprecated code that relies on an unpatched version of Windows 7.
I told him we employ a strategy of chronological obfuscation.
I explained that modern malware is designed to attack modern architecture.
By keeping our infrastructure trapped in the Bush administration, we're immune to zero-day exploits.
You can't hack what you can't interface with.
He looked at me like I was insane and asked about data compliance.
I leaned back in my chair and whispered the phrase "asynchronous legacy tunneling".
He immediately closed his notebook and apologized for questioning my vision.
I spent the rest of the afternoon watching a 4-hour documentary about the Roman Empire at my desk.
Next week I'm going to make him untangle category 5 cables for character development.
@mymindsmadness Hmm. Lots of things could have gone wrong. Could be that the two devices are on different switches with no physical connection between them or a router in between but without routing configured on it. Could be faulty cable or interface, access-list preventing traffic traverse -/1
A lot is happening 💔💔💔
I stopped by to pray maghrib at a mosque at 49, Bola Street Ebute Metta and the imam announced that one of the members has a sick wife battling cancer and they need monetary support. I took a picture of the account number written on the board. Please whoever can should donate and share.
Acct Number: 3050250423
Acct Name: AbdulQuadr Ally Babatunde
Bank Name: First Bank of Nigeria
My father's best friend was a man called Uncle Bayo who disappeared from our lives without explanation. I was 12 the last time I saw him. He came to our flat in Gbagada, argued with my father in the bedroom for an hour, and walked out without saying goodbye to me. My father never spoke his name again. Neither did my mother. Uncle Bayo became a silence with a shape.
Twenty-six years passed. I was in Philadelphia for a conference. A networking dinner at a hotel downtown. Across the room, a man about my father's age caught my eye and held it too long. He approached me during dessert and said my surname like it was a question he already knew the answer to.
We sat in the hotel lobby until 2am. He told me the story my father never did. They had started a construction company together in the early 90s. It had failed because of a contract dispute with a senator. The senator had paid only half the money and refused the rest. The debt had crushed them. Uncle Bayo had blamed my father for trusting the senator. My father had blamed Uncle Bayo for not reading the fine print. The friendship had shattered. Two men who had been closer than brothers had become strangers over something neither of them could control.
Uncle Bayo had moved to America after the falling out. He had built a new life, a new business, a small contracting firm in West Philly. He had married a Ghanaian woman and had two daughters. He had never returned to Nigeria. He had never called my father. He had assumed the silence was mutual.
I asked why he approached me now. He said he recognised my face because I looked like my father at 30. He said he had been waiting for decades to see that face again, to explain something that was never about betrayal. He said the argument had been about shame, not money. Both men had felt they failed each other. Neither had known how to say it.
I called my father from the hotel room. It was 3am in Lagos. He answered on the second ring, voice thick with sleep and alarm. I told him who I was sitting with. The line went quiet. Then my father did something I had never heard him do. He cried. Not softly. The kind of crying that comes from a place words cannot reach.
Uncle Bayo flew to Lagos 3 months later. They met at the same flat in Gbagada. They sat in the same living room where the argument had happened. They didn't re-litigate the past. They just sat together, two old men with white hair and matching hypertension medication, and let the silence heal.
My father died last year. Uncle Bayo spoke at the funeral. He said the greatest thief in life is not money or failure. It is the belief that there is always more time.
Call them. The debt is not theirs. It is yours.
I need your help guys .
I’m having my first Solo exhibition opening in Lagos today and I don’t have anyone coming to view it yet , please if you are in Lagos , kindly come see my art , it’s free entry. I hope this blows up 🙏🏽❤️
Job Alert ‼️
Job Role: Cybersecurity Engineer
Location: Lagos, Nigeria (Full-time, On-site)
Role Overview
You will be responsible for designing, implementing, and maintaining robust security systems, while proactively identifying vulnerabilities and responding to potential threats across client environments.
Key Responsibilities
- Design, implement, and manage security solutions across networks and systems
- Monitor security infrastructure and respond to incidents and threats
- Conduct vulnerability assessments and penetration testing
- Develop and enforce security policies, standards, and procedures
- Collaborate with internal teams and clients to ensure security best practices
- Stay up to date with emerging threats and cybersecurity trends
Requirements
- Proven experience in cybersecurity, network security, or information security
- Hands-on experience with security tools (e.g., firewalls, SIEM, IDS/IPS)
- Strong understanding of risk assessment and threat mitigation
- Familiarity with security frameworks and standards
- Relevant certifications (e.g., CEH, CISSP, Security+) are an added advantage
Interested candidates should apply via: [email protected]