Idemudia

Author, Night of a Red Moon | Corperate Comms UK | 40yoMan

[Max Stéph @maxstephhh]

🗣️Irish Legend, Damien Duff -"The best version of Messi.... Mbappe doesn't lace his boots."

Female anchor acts surprised
The panel agrees ✅

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

@FabrizioRomano Don’t worry. Portuguese go soon start a protest against Martinez

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Marvellous MM for me ranks over Big Bang Theory. Every character was a 💯 . My favourite after Mrs Maisel was her father, Abe.

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

😂😂😂😂

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Vinicius’ cry is becoming so popular 😭😭😭😂😂😂 I hope he gets the IP

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Started managing my mum’s poultry business at the age of eight. This was how chickens followed me around the barracks. During Christmas when we took them to the market for sale, there are times I just let them out of the basket and we’d all stroll together.

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Ask me my age without asking me my age. Anyways, my first WC was the edition when Ronaldo de Lima was in the Brazil squad but didn’t play a single match. He was 17/18 yo then.

[Dan @001Oxygen]

Are there people on this app who have Watched more than 4 world cups ?

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

@Beno10_MFC Let me goan call my mummy to choose for me.

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Driving down home and listening to Yeah! by Usher on Capital FM… and the drive show anchor comes in to say the song was 22 years old and I’m like ‘but I’m just 25yo, and was in uni when that song was released. So how come. God abeg.

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

@HumansNoContext He didn’t think continuity. Where’s the table mat in the supposed first shoot?

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

On one hand you’re glad that your children are growing and becoming more independent, on the other hand you’re wondering how your utility bills have doubled. Hehehe. 😭 😭 😭

Everyone now goes to the panini press when they wish; the oven now has an assortment of aroma; the bathroom now steams like the throne of heaven as long hot showers that used to be the privilege of tax paying members of the family have now been abused by the children Gov.YouKay gave us.

Any small thing hot chocolate- but water in kettle must boil like it is meant for eba. And they say ‘no worries I’m just going to use milk from the fridge to cool it.’

Different gadgets charging unending. Hair dryers constantly doing viiiin viiinnn, electric hair brush, decentralised heating, video gaming, bedside lamps…

Today is 12 May and electric alone has almost doubled the usual monthly as at last year. Can someone pass me on to a billionaire for adoption, please?

[Justin Grome @Justin_Grome]

Pattern recognition is the highest form of intelligence.

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Luck you can control and luck you can’t control.

[Ana Kasparian @AnaKasparian]

Loving your country should never be synonymous with loving your government.

[Amit @amitttrmfc2]

The only club capable of torturing us at the Bernabeu is Barcelona

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Don’t Look at the Scoreboard, Play the Game
One great illustration I’ve always remembered since I was a teenager is about how no one wins in a game by focusing on the scoreboard.
You win the game by playing, and the scoreboard only gives you results of the points you won, or the goals you scored.
True, the scoreboard doesn’t tell the whole story, but you cannot influence the scoreboard by simply focusing on it.
You focus instead on the game. By playing the game. Sleeves rolled, boots strapped, hands to the grind, head to the task. Skills, grit, strategy, determination, chances taken all culminate in producing the result.
So you don’t stare at your vision on the wall, or talk so much about the grand idea of your novel, you simple write the book. You don’t wish to retire by the age of 60, you begin to invest in your twenties and thirties (or as soon as possible). You don’t paint your garden to life, you go till the ground, and pull out the roots, and plant the hedges and water the flowers. You don’t envy yourself into a fit body, you exercise. You don’t wish high blood pressure away, you change your lifestyle. You don’t pray to have a great nation, you build strong systems.
No. there’s no guarantee for success even if you did everything, but there’s guarantee for failure if you don’t do anything. Or if you don’t do something well enough.
Now, eye on the game. Play.

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

Life-in-the-UK test wanna trigger me.

[Idemudia @ojayaito]

#FromA40yoMan Chapter 4

On food.
Food is food. Simple. Basic. Necessary. At least, that is what I tell myself now. But back then, as a kid, food was something else. It was an encounter, a destination. A clarion call to sacrifice to the gods of the belly. Food was pleasure: the licking of oil streaming down the elbow, the lifting of the bowl to the face, the belch, the creamy moustache, the scraping of the spoon to savage the burnt but delicious underbelly of mum’s Tower pot.

In my teenage years, I could eat an elephant. I grew up in a house with five boys and one girl, excluding extended family members. My mother must have felt like she was feeding creatures from the deep. Between eight to twelve whales gathered around her table with each meal she served. I was two whales on my own. Do not bother with the maths.

My mum would sometimes use “rearing” when referring to raising her beloved children. It always sounded like we were part of the poultry business she ran in our backyard. Sometimes, I think she meant it. We devoured meals as if trying to fatten up for the next market day. Yet we stayed thin, almost ghostly. We were a constant mystery to her. She would shake her head and mutter, “food no kuku dey show for una body.”

Years later, when I turned 30, Mum visited my wife and me as newlyweds. She looked at me, then at my wife, then back at me, and asked if my wife was starving me. She told her how I liked my food in basins, not bowls or plates. My wife blinked as if seeing an apparition. The man she married had been trying to live like John the Baptist, at least in the food department.

A few months before Mum’s visit, I had already asked my wife to stop serving our meals together. I ate too fast and far more than she did. Separate plates helped track what went into whose belly. I reduced my portions, though they had a way of creeping back up. Food always does.

After some back and forth, we found balance. Then Mum arrived and nearly undid it with one sentence. I had to defend my wife.

In our first year of marriage, I went from 67kg to 98kg.

Ten years later, I eat a fraction of what I used to. I now hover between 83 and 85 kilos. Everything feels calmer. Quieter.

Turning 40 brought even more change. I have cut sugar, reduced salt, and scaled down carbs. I now drink green tea like I know what I’m doing, ditched my beloved palm oil for olive oil, and eat once or twice a day.

Eat poorly now, and everything suffers. My mind fogs. My sleep breaks.

I would say it was sometime in my mid-thirties that I finally saw food for what it is: fuel. A pact between body and mind. Give just enough. Take just enough.

And that is how I live now. Careful. Watchful. A man who once ate like a beast, now taming the creature one plate at a time.