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Pragmatic, reserved and a deep thinker who loves family, sports especially football where am married to two wives: the first, AC Milan who has my loyalty and the second wife, Manchester United who has all my undying love and pampering, lifestyle and society parties. Need I say the law is more than a profession but a lifestyle for me.

Adekanye Adeyinka Olajide.

I do it for me

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You are here: Home / LIFE ON SUNDAYS.



Sundays are a resemblance of Christmas; though less convoluted. It is a day eagerly anticipated by all. Preparations get in top gear from Saturday; I am used to the idea that there are certain clothes you must restrict for church use – a collection to pick Sunday clothes from – special clothes for special day. The “holy” day is treated as a peculiar one with a chance to wear new underwear, gold jewelleries and hats for the girls; shoes and bags for ladies, jewelleries to compliment together with other accessories are then laid after being ironed at a place nothing will move close to it. Trust me, for some people; it is a day to vaunt class, status by kitting your daughters in flowery gowns with gathers at the waist which makes the gown full. Girls had hair specially plaited made on Saturday while boys appear with fresh hair cut.

And oh mine, the meals on Sundays are usually sumptuous; specially chosen for this grand day. The food is always a Sunday routine special with yam and fried egg served with sardine/corned beef, baked beans and steaming hot tea *yummy*. Normally, we hardly finish this delicacy before dashing to church. Thus, a reason to preserve whatever is left so as to devour it immediately after returning home from a usually protracted service. Siblings who have their food finished in the morning will come begging and if you are tired sharing, you might decide to mix some of your spit with it.

After breakfast, we dress under close supervision by our parents who meticulously pay attention to our dressing. Subsequently, money for offering is handed over to us at home. On getting to church, as a child we would be taken to children’s church (church omode). We knew by matter of right that church money is not meant to be spent on frivolous dispositions. The church itself though us a song “dawo, dawo, dawo sile olorun. Owo iresi ko ba iresi lo; dawo sile olorun” meaning pay your offerings to church. It is money for church. It is not meant for any other purpose aside that.

Retrospectively, I remember going home with the family where we then have another series of prayer sessions. The family usually has a family altar at home too where we all assemble and gather round for the prayers before dashing to get our left-over before lunch gets ready. Sunday lunch is always rice with chicken stew or beef on rare occasions, served in flat bowl. With this heavy lunch taken with juice, playing around is a titanic act. At best, this is replaced with a picnic or a visit to the cinema house.

For dinner, it is French toast: a meal where bread is sliced and damped into already mixed egg fortified with corned beef; which is then fried and served with a glass of milk.

Sundays are indeed the king of all days as all businesses are shut down. They are brought to a grinding halt with the city put to bed on this special day.