I’m a creative person and this thankfully extends to the kitchen. I’m also extremely choosy with food plus I live alone (mostly) so I have had to develop strong culinary skills. I learnt to cook by trial and error and in my current state I can confidently challenge most women; I am like the new breed of men, the kind who don’t get bullied by their wives or girlfriend through food. PS dear future wife, you cannot demand I choose between sex and dinner. I will choose sex, screw you silly then go make myself dinner. If you like remain boneless on the kitchen counter, when you are blinded with hunger and find yourself eating raw tomatoes and pepper you will realize that I – The Zibah will not be bullied.

Dear readers, kindly ignore the rant above; I tend to give in to momentary bouts of ZD (Zibah dementia).


I remember growing up as a child and being excited when mom would announce that we were going to have pancakes for breakfast during the weekend. I would look forward with frenzied anticipation and even manage to not wet the bed in celebration of pancake weekend. Pancakes-golden brown fluffy sweetness shaped like a tennis ball. If pancake was a god, I was its loyal bitch. Years later I had accompanied mom to the store to grab grocery when I had stumbled upon a row of pastry ingredients and my attention had been drawn to the stack of pancake mix. The wrapper had several images of extremely attractive ‘pancakes’ that looked nothing like the balls mom makes. “What wizardry is this?” I had whispered in shock then hurriedly went in search of my mother and pulled her back to the shelf.

“Mom that can’t be pancakes, yours never looks like that” I asked innocently Continue reading

The Wise Man’s Fear

The Wise Man's Fear- Patrick Rothfuss

The Wise Man’s Fear- Patrick Rothfuss

    “Once upon a time,” I began. “There was a little boy born in a little town. He was perfect, or so his mother thought. But one thing was different about him. He had a gold screw in his belly button. Just the head of it peeping out. “Now his mother was simply glad he had all his fingers and toes to count with. But as the boy grew up he realized not everyone had screws in their belly buttons, let
    alone gold ones. He asked his mother what it was for, but she didn’t know. Next he asked his father, but his father didn’t know. He asked his grandparents, but they didn’t know either. “That settled it for a while, but it kept nagging him. Finally, when he was old enough, he packed a bag and set out, hoping he could find someone who knew the truth of it. “He went from place to place, asking
    everyone who claimed to know something about anything. He asked midwives and physickers, but they couldn’t make heads or tails of it. The boy asked arcanists, tinkers, and old hermits living in the woods, but no one had ever seen anything like it. “He went to ask the Cealdim merchants, thinking if anyone would know about gold, it would be them. But the Cealdim merchants didn’t know. He went to the arcanists at the University, thinking if anyone would know about screws and their workings, they would. But the arcanists didn’t know. The boy followed the road over the Stormwal to ask the witch women of the Tahl, but none of them could give him an answer. “Eventually he went to the King of Vint, the richest king in the world. But the king didn’t know. He went to the Emperor of Atur, but even with all his power, the emperor didn’t know. He went to each of the small kingdoms, one by one, but no one could tell him anything. “Finally the boy went to the High King of Modeg, the wisest of all the kings in the world. The high king looked closely at the head of the golden screw peeping from the boy’s belly button. Then the high king made a gesture, and his seneschal brought out a pillow of golden silk. On that pillow was a golden box. The high king took a golden key from around his neck, opened the box, and inside was a golden screwdriver “The high king took the screwdriver and motioned the boy to come closer. Trembling with excitement, the boy did. Then the high king took the golden screwdriver and put it in the boy’s belly button.” I paused to take a long drink of water. I could feel my small audience leaning toward me. “Then the high king carefully turned the golden screw. Once: Nothing. Twice: Nothing. Then he turned it the third time, and the boy’s ass fell off.” There was a moment of stunned silence. “What?” Hespe asked incredulously. “His ass fell off,” I repeated with an absolutely straight face. There was a long silence. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me. The fire snapped, sending a red ember floating upward. “And then what happened?” Hespe finally asked. “Nothing,” I said. “That’s it. The end.” “What?” she said again, more loudly. “What kind of story is that?”

Trust me, I was like the audience above. I kept reading, expecting something amazing to happen but it never did. The above is an excerpt from Patrick Rothfuss’ “The Wise Man’s Fear” the second release in the Kingkiller Chronicles.

The Wise Man’s Fear continues the story told in “The Name of the Wind” with Kvothe recounting his life’s story to Chronicler at the Wayside Inn. His recollections pick up right where they left off with Kvothe attending the University…. Kvothe is on a mission to uncover more about the Chandrian and furthers his quest to locate them in order to seek vengeance for the death of his parents and his entire troupe of Edema Ruh.

I usually dismiss books like this after a few pages but not this one. Rothfuss mastery of story-telling shines brightly through the travails of Kvothe. The reader is immersed in his world of poverty, happiness, loss and triumph and can’t help but love the smart-mouth Kvothe.

I would recommend Patrick Rothfuss’ King-killer Chronicles to anyone who is capable of appreciating top-notch writing but be warned, its a long book- 1074 pages.

Geeky Zibah!



Food. Food. I need food RIGHT NOW. I’m hungry, so hungry I even started picturing grub I would ordinarily never touch with a 10ft short pole. I had to consciously shove a mental image of Amala into my mental bin from whence it came. My vision was all shade of blurry and it felt as if I had got a kg of salt dissolving on my tongue. I stumble drunkenly towards the nearest cafeteria.

“Do you have rice?” I half-growled. No response, I repeated my request a little louder, disdain heavy in my voice. What, I was hungry.

“Ehn and?” came the irritated reply.

I looked up to the source of the sound and my eyes focused on the ugliest lips man has ever been forced to bear and a sullen face that would have given a bulldog pause. I may be hungry but that voice irked me greatly and I had to quell the urge to barbecue her stupid face. I pointed to plantain, coleslaw, a ginormous fish tail and a pack of orange juice. I was beyond speech. My bill came out at N1350. I grabbed my wallet and drooped two one thousand Naira notes on the counter.

“Ehn! What for? I DONT HAVE CHANGE O“. She spat in that irksome voice.

OK, that is it. I have had it. I grabbed the scythe hanging loosely but out of sight in my duster pocket and made quick messy work of her jugular. Her neck spurting crimson wonderment, I leveled a dispassionate stare at her twitching dying body. I calmly grabbed my plate of food and drink and walked away. On second thoughts, I turned back, grabbed my two thousand Naira crisp note off the table and put into my respectful wallet. Tsk!

"Ehen! No change na"
Ehen! No change na

Not all of that was fiction (I have eyes still for the Oscar for best screen-play). The “no change” bug seems to have caught on in Nigeria; from the road-side Madam Tuale restaurant and commercial vehicles to established businesses. Hear what a columnist of Thisday newspaper has to say about it;

Continue reading

BRANDING: Strategising to protect your Brand Name



In an expanding world market where products and services are being reviewed and repackaged in order to create a unique brand which will appeal to consumers and set it apart from competitors, building a brand name and retaining the positive values and expectations that have come to be expected based on the established reputation of the product or service is hard work. Many brands have been destroyed because of a bad step in brand building regardless of how minor the misstep because the audience is more that often ready to switch to the next best thing once there is a lapse in performance from a preferred brand name. Therefore building a brand name is one thing, ensuring adequate protection for the brand is another business entirely.

To start with, a brand is the long term relationship and reputation that a company has built with the general consumer. Basically, the brand says all there is to say about a company; Who you are, what you do, what you represent, the quality you stand for, and your relationship with the consumers and the general public.

A reputable brand name is more than often, the result of sticking to a laid down structural plan that has been followed through by hard work and commitment as well as employing the right communication methods across all media platforms and engaging consumers at every level. Hence upon laying the appropriate foundation for a brand name and solidifying the brand presence, protecting the brand name becomes the vital issue. Therefore the steps listed below will help provide adequate protection for a brand name across all media platforms including the Internet.

Brand Name Choice:

Before selecting a brand name, a lot of consideration must go to the relationship of the name to the service being offered while maintaining a creative but not mis-intepretable name for the brand. Therefore adequate research must be undertaken before picking a name. A trademark search can be carried out online or consulting websites who offer global search of the internet for brand names should be considered.

Furthermore, visiting the resident corporate affairs office in your area, is another way to confirm the availability of a brand name.

Register It:

Formally registering a brand name with the patent office or trademark office is the legal method of securing the exclusive rights to operate with your brand name. In addition you can ward off brand jackers and squatters online by registering your domain name online before it gets hijacked.

Provide what you promise:
More than often, a name is associated with the service delivery; hence protecting your brand name goes hand in hand with keeping in line with the services promised. Quality assurance is more or less the best way to ensure your brand name is protected. Negative PR by dissatisfied consumers is usually the quickest way to sink a brand name. In order to avoid this, provide what you promise!

Monitor Feedback:

It’s always wise to keep in touch with your consumers and maintain a relationship with them monitoring responses to products and services and handling any negative responses in the most customer friendly way.

Zibah: I once registered at a Local e-commerce site and as usual impulsively selected an item but had a few questions so I clicked on the “contact us” page and filled the form. By the time I got a response from them, I’d sprouted a couple of grey hairs and my bank statement had worked its magic on my impulsiveness. Their loss right? You can imagine how many Zibah-like contract they must have bummed off…..alrighty, sorry for interrupting.

There are more methods to employ in effectively protecting your brand name, you just have to be creative and think outside the box.

Much thanks to the guest blogger that sent this in, highly informative. I bet some popular brands could learn a few tips especially those in the Telecommunication line of business where most of their customer care agents seem to struggle to know as little as possible.

Yeah! Happy New Year people, it’s going to be an awesome year. Can I hear a hallelujah somebody!

P.S Picture Zibah as a fire and brimstone pastor *chuckles*



Hiya, Zibah here. I know some of you are dying to know all the dirty deets of what I have been up to this past week, well here it is……nada. Yes, I have been up to absolutely nothing remarkable in the past week. The only incidence that comes to mind is that with the police; I was walking, lost in thought and was suddenly approached by a police-woman who asked that I relinquish hold of my messenger bag for it to be searched. My expression must have been like wt???….why me? Do I look like a threat to national security, me? I pray for the souls of mosquitoes before happily smashing them (ok, not really). Luckily, Zibah was in a good mood so my usually foul mouth was fortunately not present and I didn’t make any scathing remark for being ‘harassed’ and in the process provoke them. They let me go after they saw my NYSC ID card in my bag, calling me ‘Government pikin’ though the other policeman in the team couldn’t help casting covetous glances at my heavily padded wallet (little did he know it had more of business cards and scrap papers than Nigerian currency). Continue reading