Olaniyi Olanrewaju

  Miss Maggi replied me immediately. Miss Maggi: I have been waiting for you. It is obvious that Coke needs help. What can I do to bring him back to normal? I need him. Anonymous: Maybe he is fed up of your behavior. Miss Maggi: What can I do? Anonymous: Is he a Christian? Miss Maggi: Yes. He once talked about the Holy Spirit Anonymous: Ask him if he has prayed about it. Miss Maggi: I can’t ask him that. Anonymous: Why? Miss Maggi: I just can’t ask him that question Anonymous: For him to be unhappy for two days, the issue must be around something he loves. Maybe family. Miss Maggi: Hmmm. You could be right. He seems like someone who likes God a lot too. Anonymous: Maybe he committed a sin. Miss Maggi: That’s none of my business. Anonymous: I think it is. Miss Maggi: How? Anonymous: You said it yourself. You need him. You need to do whatever you need to get him back [Miss Maggi is silent] Anonymous: Just try. You will be glad you did Miss Maggi: Oka

  I continued my hide and seek with Miss Maggi. I know from her blog posts that she cares about me, but she is scared of love. I know people like that. They are scared of people showing them love because of their past experience or their knowledge of the testimonies of these dark days. That’s why I discourage believers from listening to these radio programs of bad stories of things going on in the world; it fuels fear and cripples faith. Miss Maggi’s situation is as a result of her past. As bloody as it was, I know that she can come out of it. I have intensified my prayers for her. That day at work, I stayed away from every unnecessary contact with her, but I noticed that she was struggling with some things. She doesn’t know whether to ask me what is wrong with me again or just let me be. I caught her about three times looking at me. When I was sure that she was worried about me, I went to her and asked if she needed anything. She looked at me and asked what has given me so much co

  I balanced behind my laptop as I typed the address of her blog into my browser. This would be the first time I would see her on any social media platform. The first thing that caught my attention on the blog was her profile. She was dressed in a white gown and was smiling from ear to ear. Miss Maggi is smiling? Jesus is LORD! Her profile read ‘I stay alone, but I don’t live alone. Grief is my roommate and sadness is my neighbor.’ I knew it that something is wrong with my boss. I just have not discovered what is exactly wrong with her. I will know about it today. I spent over an hour reading different articles on her blog. Apart from the fact that she is a good writer, Miss Maggi writes about everything on her blog. Her work, colleagues, family and of course, Coke. I find it weird that Miss Maggi writes about everything and everyone, but she never talks to us at work. I was curious to know why she hates color red. I searched through and found the gold mine in her earliest articles.

There have been several calls in recent times for the breaking of Nigeria into three major tribes that form the nation. This call has suddenly increased in this administration as a result of the nepotistic character of the Federal government. The calls all come from genuine concerns seeing that the North seem to pose more demerits to the south than merits. While I share all these concerns, my stand is quite different. I have been studying prophecies about Nigeria for about 5 years now. I have examined the contents of prophecies from S.G. Elton, Benson Idahosa, Ruth Elton, Cindy Jacobs, Paul Gindiri, Intercessors for Nigeria, FGBMFI, the Fulani prophecy and different prayer conferences from 1984 till date. I have also studied the role of men like Usman Dan Fodio, George Goldie and Oduduwa in the formation of the country and in all of this, every prophecy and prophetic intelligence point to that there will be challenges, but the nation will overcome. The only prophecy that seems to s

  Miss Maggi is one of the most intelligent person I have ever met. She does her work a special touch of excellence that stands her out among the other executives. Her strategies have always hooked clients so much that it leads to referrals for the advertising company. While I was planning to upset her again by wearing red, I worked the extra mile to gain her trust on the job.   At first, she just wanted me to remain as her assistant and not intrude into matters that do not concern me, but I grew so fast into becoming her secretary and she was pleased with my growth which came at a very high price of reading all her past presentations and studying her strategies. Now, she gives me ideas and I flesh it up into a presentation. This has made her work very easy. There are times that we work together quite easily and at other times, she would throw curses at me and threaten to get me out. Her mood swings are very dangerous so much that I added it to my prayer points for her. I remember on

I knew Miss Maggi was mad at me because of my tie, but I decided to smile and reduce the rising heat of the atmosphere. Smiling, I asked 'Is there anything I can do for you right now?' 'Take away that tie', she requested in a surprisingly cool manner. 'Oh, the tie, is it bad?, I asked. She shouted back at me: 'It is red'. Still pretending as if I don't know what is going on, 'but red is fine; it matches my white shirt.' She supported her chin with a her right fist and gave me a stern gaze. Within me, I should be urinating in my pants, but I managed to stay calm and continued the conversation. 'Excuse me ma, can I ask you a question?' She was mute. I took that as a yes. Lanre, this confidence will get you into trouble, I thought, but I still asked her. 'Why don't you like red? Red is a cool innocent color. Instead of answering my question, Miss Maggi combined the roar of a lion and the trump of an elephant as she shouted at me to r

As I approached home that evening, I started asking the Holy Ghost to share with me about Miss Maggi. The scripture that came up in my mind was that of the Samaritan man who helped the man that was robbed. I knew what He was passing across to me. The LORD wants me to help her. I was puzzled. Maggi does not need help! I am the one that needs help. I quickly counted about three ways I could use the Holy Ghost's help in working with her. You know that few minutes of foolishness where we try to convince the Holy Ghost that we are wiser. While I was in deep thought concerning this matter, my mum entered my room. My mum is a typical Nigerian Christian mother who does not joke with prayers for her family; especially her children. I have been blessed many times by her prophetic unction that flows from her many hours of intercession. Her drive to seek God herself greatly rubbed on me. She has always told me to stop talking to myself. She considers it a taboo, but it's my own way of medi

It didn't take me long before I found out who Maggi is from other staffs of the organization. Apparently, she feels like a 'Maraget Thatcher', but she is an 'Adolf Hitler'. She gives orders that must not be challenged by even her superiors. She is a terrible leader. No. She is not a leader. She is a boss in every sense of the word boss. Her 6 feet 4 inches does not help the situation in any way. Her words are like thunders. She does not get along with anyone in the firm. She is a loner 'who has a knack for sacking her assistants in the first month', one of the staffs told me. The longest serving assistant she ever had spent 2 months before she threatened to beat the lady up. I wondered why she has not been sacked. My inquiries told me that she gets her work done perfectly and very good at clinching clients. So, as long as she is bringing money in, the boss does not care if she spits on every other person. Too bad.  How will I cope with this kind of person? T

I set a series of alarms to make sure that I did not over sleep. My cloth was dry cleaned by my trusted vendor. I had done my background checks on the organization. As at 6 am, I was set to leave home for my first interview after NYSC. I took my Pauline prayers which is a normal dose for my devotion and as I was getting out, my mum called out my name. She walked towards me with a bottle of anointing oil. I knew she would do that anyways. She anointed me three times and made those fiery proclamations. When she was going to turn it to a revival service, I had to cut her short. Despite the fact that I was sitting in front of a panel that looks so deadly, I help my chin up and banked on the peace within me. They asked me so many questions that I considered personal. I mean, why would a potential employer be asking me if I like Coca cola or Pepsi. How does that even matter to my application for the role of a personal assistant to one of the company's executives. Out of the 6 persons int