#Upandan makes the Urban Dictionary

Words and meanings

I have always been fascinated with words and the origin of words, etymology, to be precise. Whilst I am not given to neologisms, I would have the tendency to use a word than a phrase to convey ideas or thoughts.

With the advent of Twitter and the limitation of 140 characters, I have learnt precision, concision and brevity without sacrificing the quality of words for the new fads of SMS Text English.

Nothing irks me as much as the bizarre and lazy economy of expression where vowels are dispensed with and homophones replace words, I will not acknowledge any of that sort of text in my writing and so inadvertently giving the sloppiness legitimacy.

Whilst I would not fancy myself a sesquipedalian, the English vocabulary is just too wide to limit oneself to the common and rudimentary. My view is we should all use any opportunity to learn more about unfamiliar and unusual words.

My foray into lexicography

Then again, I am neither a pedant nor a purist in the strict sense of the word, I just like things done properly.

A few months ago, I came upon a word on Twitter, “Upandan”, at first, I did not know what it meant and so I searched for it online, in the usual dictionaries and the Urban Dictionary, there was no definition, but much usage.

The context in which “Upandan” was used was interesting and expressive, I liked it and it was in fact, a Nigerian colloquialism, a corrupt of the phrase, “Up and down” and generally carrying much of the context and meaning along.

Some examples of usage are:

Stop chasing the girl upandan. [Attention seeking.]

I was going upandan in the building looking for the right people to talk to. [Helter-skelter.]

He is begging chiefs upandan. [Desperation.]

The application and usage can change in context and inflexion, the examples given not being exhaustive.

Love and share

In any case, I am generally not a self-publicist, I have once managed a mass blogging activity celebrating my decade of blogging and have been invited to moderate a session on #BokoHaram, beyond that, I mainly keep to my blog and general commentary on Twitter or Facebook.

However, I am excited at the acceptance of my ‘Upandan’ entry on the Urban Dictionary and this is how I defined Upandan:

A corruption of 'up and down' suggesting a frenzied running from pillar to post in desperation; especially when in trouble or trying to curry favour with personalities to influence circumstances or gain preferential support. (Nigerian origin.)

Typical usage: He is begging chiefs upandan.

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Hospital: Testimonies and phlebotomies

Knowing me well

I have learnt to take my medical situation in my stride. From a time when wanted no knowledge of what I might have acquired through the indifference about it might be, the denial at what might be happening to me and the concern that I might be tethered to some palliative unsure of how it might well end.

Seven years ago, after a visit to my doctor, a referral and another referral, I left home with a change of underwear with my partner to attend a hospital appointment.

Within the hour of seeing the consultant, I was in a hospital bed and there for another 18 nights and with that came a seriously life-threatening cancer diagnosis and an interest in understanding what was happening to me.

Beyond medicine

Intravenous drips, pills, patches, phlebotomies, biopsies and chemotherapies later, I settled into a quarterly visit to the hospital for check-ups monitoring my health through the tale in the bloods, the clues not a few about where I was and how I was doing.

I regularly looked forward to these visits, no more out of angst or concern, but in anticipation of better indicators and that ever glowing compliment about how well I was turned out.

Besides, the conversation always moved beyond the minutiae of medical matters to life in general, interesting repartee and learning more of each other, our interests, our engagements, and much else.

Parting with routine

Yesterday was no different, I had seen literally all consultants in that department and this time I was back to see the main man, to think he was a registrar some 34 years ago, considering I am just coming to 28 years in my field of expertise. He spent 3 years being a doctor in the Apartheid era, Republic of Transkei, an exposure to a system that demanded much beyond his medical prowess.

Then he refilled my prescription for another six months, allayed my concerns about my once unusually high blood pressure before sending me off to the phlebotomist who might have attached a hose to my carotid artery than seek a vein in my upper arm. Six vials later, I was released from service to the vampire’s convention, it could have been seven, but two of the blood tests could be done off the contents of one vial. How forgiving and considerate.

His parting words with a firm handshake were, “You just keep on being elegant and putting us all to shame.”

Ìsosíwájú àtẹ̀yínwá

Mo gbésẹ̀ láì jẹ gbèsè,
Mo dájú láì jẹ̣́́ ọ̀dájú,
Mi ò díbọ́ láti dìbò,
Ọ̀rọ̀ kún ó sọ mí dodi.

Ìbáṣe ní abájọ,
Ì̀wádìí ni olórí ìmọ̀,
Àìbíkítà àti àìka ìnkan kún,
Ló da ẹgbẹ́ májè́óbàjé rú.

Fàmílétí kí mo gbọ,
Fi ìganrán lé tìróò,
Ọmọ amúnisúre,
Má fijà tẹ́ mi.

Ẹni ò mọ̀ wẹ̀ ò mòwe,
Ati jáwọ́ nínú àgàbàgebè,
Àti rí fúró adìyẹ,
Ìṣe àná ti di ìṣekúṣe òní.

Gbérè omo,

Bẹ́ẹ̀ni kí o máaṣe,
Mámà yíwà padà,
Kóníkálùkù farapamọ́.

Thought Picnic: My city of sights and sighs

Walk this way

On the rare occasion that I spend the weekend in what is essentially for me a hotel city, I could easily be at a loose end. Not given to much rigorous exercise until those who I have asked to teach me how to swim, find the time to send me the forms and offer me a slot, I go for walks.

Night time walks around the city can be interesting and it could be anything from 90 minutes to two hours. Easy, unaided, purposeful and consequently tiring.

Obstructions abound

On this walk, I took a different route, up the road to a section that was buzzing with more activity than I thought was possible, loud music, people outside smoking, pavements impassable, you wonder what the bouncers are there for if the patrons of the establishments they work for, block the public freeways.

Anyone who had to navigate the city in a wheelchair will probably not venture out again after one night of running the gauntlet of unreasonable and inconsiderate human impediments.

The result of excess

Of the people, in interesting states of dress and wear brought on by the excess of party, drink, food, drug and whatever else, there is much you probably would not like to see. A lady wearing one high-heeled shoe with the other in her hand, a wobbly gait that would make a silent movie a hit.

Across the road is the indulgence of emesis, the effluent of which, some hapless fellow will step into with the very likelihood of capturing the sensation of a waterslide, forget the stench. Others with eyes glazed, words slurred, gaits unsteady, just coherent enough to call out their home address before the slump in the backseat of an Uber cab. What a night, it must have been.

Emerging for emergency

The night is busy, blaring sirens of ambulances and police cars piercing the night with an uneasy cacophony in a rush to incident, accident, disturbance or crime. The price of peace is hardly won in tranquillity.

Then down the road where both police and ambulance were stayed, the aftermath was a van over a motorcycle, the rider probably survived, but very likely will see the hospital before getting home in a week, if lucky.

You can never say whether it was inconsideration, indifference, distraction or impatience, but at that time of the night, dangers lurk and so the need for more care from all users of the roads.

On reflection

I have my vices, but they are neither of drink, of substance nor of inhalation, I wear my sobriety in many places like a middle-aged man yet to lose his virginity, unaware of any of the whys and wherefores of what others over-indulge in that they are non compos mentis.

My vice is of the hidden sort, acquired at a time when I had no choice, an innocence lost to the pleasure of another and from that issues that have me railing against those who freely take advantage and face very little consequence.

Silent amongst the revellers in some doorways, however, are other people without choice, a blight on our consciences and society, the homeless verging on the helpless. We may never hear their story beyond a plea for spare change or a light for a cigarette, we have a great city of sights and sighs; may we find more sights than sighs, lifting all in aim and cause for the pursuit of happiness.

Dame Patience Jonathan: The Dosh Is Mine

Sing this to the music of The Girl Is Mine by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney, it is incomplete, feel free to adlib, freestyle, contribute and improve.

Without doubt the saga of Dame Patience Jonathan’s frozen millions is exciting some untapped, yet amateurish poetic lines for publication. [Quartz Africa]

Blog - In Nigeria, we've lost to all of them

Blog - All metaphors of the dame

The Dosh Is Mine

Now it’s for me to act so tough,
Since it’s money I have earned,
Sure the bankers used another name,
But I have the credit cards.

The dosh is mine,
The whole damn dosh is mine,
Take you to court,
Because the whole damn dosh is mine.

Let me put you in the frame of things,
For that dosh was always mine,
You can threaten me with all you’ve got,
Really just a waste of time.

Because it’s mine,
The whole damn dosh is mine,
It’s every dime,
Because the whole damn dosh is mine.

I’ll tell you who I am,
Am untouchable.

And when I’m done with you,
You would so regret.

Never ever, ever mess,
With the dame.

I am really going to fight this,
You have just now heard from my lawyers,
Now unfreeze all the proceeds,
I need the freedom to spend my money.

[]

I might yet complete this with more inspiration and whatever else.

In Nigeria, we've lost to all of them

Losing Things

The thief is an opportunist,
The swindler is cunning,
The armed robber is daring,
The kleptomaniac is audacious.

The thief makes a smash-and-grab,
The swindler wins your confidence,
The armed robber cares nothing for you,
The kleptomaniac doesn’t know you exist.

The thief picks a pocket or two,
The swindler drains your coffers,
The armed robber demands more than they can see,
The kleptomaniac takes all that is there.

The thief places no value on the thing,
The swindler places no value on your trust,
The armed robber places no value on your life,
The kleptomaniac has no values, period.

The thief has hands,
The swindler has wits,
The armed robber has weapons,
The kleptomaniac has lawyers.

The thief is probably petty,
The swindler commits a fraud,
The armed robber is a complete invasion,
The kleptomaniac is always politically connected.

The thief gets lynched,
The swindler gets jailed,
The armed robber gets shot,
The kleptomaniac is untouchable.

The thief begs,
The swindler pleads,
The armed robber dares,
The kleptomaniac boasts.

The thief you know,
The swindler you trust,
The armed robber you fear,
The kleptomaniac you defend.

The thief you catch,
The swindler you snare,
The armed robber you stalk,
The kleptomaniac you love.

The thief might skip with dozens,
The swindler can access millions,
The armed robber runs off with thousands,
The kleptomaniac flaunts in billions.

The thief is a criminal,
The swindler is again cunning,
The armed robber is a brigand,
The kleptomaniac responsible.

In Nigeria,
Here is the deal,
Most laws would nab the thief,
Some sleuths will trail the swindler,
The military will shoot the armed robber,
And we all party with and honour the kleptomaniac.

All metaphors of the dame

The call in the land is, let us pray,
          For we all are prey,
Caught in the way of predators of yesterday,
          Dinosaurs be they that roam our lanes today.

Present thyself, dame of infamy,
          To wit, a game of villainy,
Stashed away in the servant’s coffer,
          You reach now, the loot to recover.

Will they have known their name was rich,
          Never a day again for them to twitch,
Abused they were to conceal a crime,
          Yet to them, not a dime.

Promoted you were beyond your competence,
          Not once strung together a good sentence,
Married to him who rose without rectitude,
          Much educated beyond his aptitude.

The sheriff sued the serf for possible theft,
          Then you entered the stage from the left,
With an embarrassment of legal pandas you came,
          Black from white you all knew no shame.

The loot is mine you cried,
          As we asked what could you have tried?
No job you ever did altogether could have paid,
          What is now to be reclaimed.

Then you opened up a treasure trail,
          A bank account tells a money tale,
For how your term as first greed,
          Is not the last of help you’ll need.

Yet, you will walk away scot free,
          Not to say how the filthy lucre tree,
Watered your purse with riches real,
          For that is how we deal.

We have implicitly enshrined,
          In the law of the land most refined,
Every means to allow the perfidy,
          Of immunity for gross impunity.

Thought Picnic: In weakness let your discretion rule

Buckled by weakness

History chronicles the lives of many great men brought down by their weaknesses, many through sex and all the accoutrements of seeking that gratification of the flesh.

One can only feel sad for the misfortune that befell Keith Vaz, the Member of Parliament for the Leicester East constituency and Gonville and Caius (pronounced Keez) College graduate of the University of Cambridge. He with the distinction of being the longest serving MP of Asian origin in the House of Commons.

A good head start, one would say and until Tuesday, the influential chairman of the Home Affairs Committee since 2007.

Pursuits of the flesh

I cannot be said that Mr. Vaz had many friends as a politician, he has been dogged by many scandals from which he has deftly extricated himself unscathed and even served a suspension from the House of Commons as a consequence, but with that he had weaknesses that when those became the focus of media attention, none ran to defend him as a symbol worthy of anything less than opprobrium.

As each and every one of us has weaknesses, it would be unfair to dwell on the shortcomings of one man, but there are things one must comment on with regards to his downfall.

Mr. Vaz would apparently have liberal views and tastes along with a penchant for exploring adventurous pursuits of the flesh. Being a married man of 23 years with two children, he was at the weekend exposed as having met for sex with prostitutes, which really is no crime in itself. [Sky News]

The plot congealed

However, the deeper the detail of the story got, it became impossible to bat away any of the tales as media intrusion without any lasting consequence. Mr. Vaz was meeting with male prostitutes for bareback (unsafe) sex on presumably excitement enhancing substances.

Again, there is no crime in adults meeting up for sex and choosing to have any kind of sex they desire, if done with consent. However, there are moral issues that would have arisen about this liaison and other issues of compromise that could result from being exploited by less than discreet and scrupulous partners.

Unbeknownst to him, his liaisons had identified who he was being a high-profile politician on television and they decided to contact the media about their trysts. The videos that then emerge for the scoop that landed on the weekend pages of the newspapers were recorded by the men he met up with.

Discretion above all else

It goes without saying that on matters of straying from the expected, one should choose those one chooses to cover very carefully. It beggars belief that Mr. Vaz took such risks with men who probably had more to gain than to lose with meeting him for sex.

I am of the opinion that meeting with people requires a modicum of understanding the power dynamic between yourselves to understand temperament and honesty of the person to ensure one does no suffer rotten consequences from the relationship. Meeting with people in the same cadre and class, much as some might frown at this anachronism goes a long way in ensuring no one comes to harm, or if any, negligible if the situation turns sour.

The reckless things we do

Beyond this, Mr. Vaz could easily have been the subject of blackmail with the men bilking him for anything they thought they could get away with. It is unimaginable though conceivable that certain people in the know of Mr. Vaz’ interesting tastes might have exacted favours of him by reason of his influential position and his work history is not without controversy.

Invariably, he had to resign from his chair because he was caught in a seriously untenable position that suggested subjective thinking and conflicts of interest in matters over which he had the power to influence, suggest, advice on and promulgate laws.

Tougher days ahead

The other not insignificant matter of his family looms, the wife probably put at risk because of the down-low proclivities of her husband. His wife may never walk out on him, but if she does, she first has to make sense of this development.

Mr. Vaz may not identify as homosexual or bisexual, though there is a growing cohort of seemingly outwardly heterosexual males venturing into a bi-curious phase of sexual experimentation.

His children will be beside themselves in understanding their father, the shock of which will not wear off that easily. There will be some rather difficult talk ahead, with the nuclear family and the extended family.

What next?

Things like this anyone would rather keep private and secret, to have such revealed to the whole world on the yellow journalism pages of English tabloids is a raid on one’s being that one must never wish on one’s worst enemy. However, I think Mr. Vaz will come through this, a bit battered, but unbowed, he was not known as Mr. Vaz(eline); a play on Vaseline, for nothing.

Now this is out in the open, Mr. Vaz also has to decide where his loyalties lie and whether his acquired taste for men is necessary for the full expression of his sexuality. This will also determine the future of his marriage and anything else he does from henceforth.

The lesson for us is to handle our weaknesses with a little more discretion and some smarts about those we choose to exploit those pleasures that derive from our weaknesses with. At risk is position, dignity, status and respect, none of which is easy to earn back once lost.

The UK: Scoring low on the good skirt test

Help!

Anyone who reads my blog will more or less conclude that I am a liberal. I am probably a liberal, I do have certain conservative views, but I would hope that I practice a sort of pragmatism tempered with a broad accepting reasonableness.

My last blog addressed the issue of the regulation of women’s as a fascination and a mode of gauging the level of morality in certain societies. One can easily sententiously subscribe to the view that a certain mode of dress as accepted in certain places is the level of tolerance of permissiveness and an exacerbation of the lascivious, but I refuse to entertain that as embracing of the freedom of responsible expression by adults.

However, I was met with a serious challenge to my generally liberal views of dress as I arrived at work and in the process of disembarking from my taxicab, the passenger in the taxicab in front stepped out, blazing red Christian Louboutin shoes, black blouse, and jacket, over a black skirt. In tow, a trolley bag and a catwalk gait to the office block.

The good skirt test

I dare say, from basic observation, the good seamstress test was suffering in extremis, the skirt appeared to be not long enough to cover the detail, and it was short enough to maintain too much of a lingering interest as to forget that there was someone wearing the clothes. The good seamstress or tailoress as I found was the archaic term for dressmaker at the Leeds Industrial Museum over a week ago suggests, ‘a skirt must be long enough to cover the detail, whilst short enough for keep the interest.’ Not a lingering and lewd interest, though.

The skirt struggled to pass the basic test on both accounts for the occasion when it probably would have wowed the fashion watchers on a celebrity red carpet. Then I cannot comment on the appropriateness of the attire if the wearer is comfortable in what they choose to wear, but I would be surprised if it did not draw some commentary anywhere she went around the campus on Monday.

My companion did quip as we got out of the taxicab, inquiring if I did see what she thought she had seen. I guess a lot more people had their heads turning for the want of some understanding.

It’s summer, but at the office

Then I was intimated of an event some summers ago, when the mercury put the UK in Mediterranean bliss and with that, the business sense in dress was discarded for a laissez-faire beach casual look. This compelled the management to remonstrate about presentation and manner of dress with regards to the appropriateness for the office, however, without listing the prescriptive items of clothing that appeared to suggest contempt for comportment and decency.

I still feel adults should behave responsibly on matters of presentation and appearance at work without having to be told how. Then again, some sometimes forget and need to be reminded of where they are, so that they can make adjustments where necessary.

However, what could happen is if management is too timid to be particular with individuals, the scattergun approach of a circular might also come with certain put-upon staff constituting a vigilante fashion police mob acting beyond their areas of core expertise.

Nobody should have to be told how to dress, but somebody needs to intervene when the manner of dress draws attention away from the wearer, especially when the wearer is not on a catwalk.

Nigeria: Our fascination with regulating how women dress

Now seriously

Some two days ago, I retweeted a posting with my own commentary which was challenged by a few of my followers and it led to a discussion on the regulation of feminine apparel, the rut in the civil service and other issues about outward moralising with no character moulding consequence necessary to ensure a more harmonious society.

What nonsense is this?
How does regulating the manner of dress of the womenfolk improve productivity? https://t.co/jlPt9fLaNN

— Akin Akíntáyọ̀ (@forakin) September 1, 2016

The news story that appeared on the YNaija website had the headline, “NPA bans female workers from wearing miniskirts, jeans trousers.” To the few that challenged my premise, they first dismissed the headline as click-bait and then suggested that the story was not currently contemporaneous.

Comprehension is key

Let’s first of all deal with the matter of basic English comprehension as I liberally quote verbatim from the new story under review.

“The statement read, ‘It has been observed that despite the issuance of a couple of circulars vide HQ/GMHR/CON/G.3/128 of 25th August, 2008 and HQ/CR/AD/G.1/3039 of 19th December, 2014 on corporate Dress Code, some employees still indulge in improper dressing to the office.’”

Now, there is no date as to why this became a current news story, but a number of things are evident from the first paragraph of the statement purportedly released by the Nigeria Ports Authority (NPA). In both 2008 and 2014, a circular was released to address the matter of corporate dress codes, the last clause of the paragraph, suggests some employees still indulge.

This indicates, this statement released was post-December 2014, and any time between December 2014 and September 2016, the general manager of the NPA found it necessary to reference previous circulars and then restate the need to follow the directives as neatly referenced in the statement.

YNaija at the end of the article then informs us that a new managing director was appointed last month, I would leave out any reference I have observed of the appearance and apparel of the new appointee. Yet, one has to question whether it is a mere coincidence or a deliberate act of the reinforcement of some values and mission statement that the manner of dress should make the news soon after the appointment of a new head of the NPA. I will wager, it is no coincidence and by that suggest, this statement is current, recent and for now.

After women without doubt

Then to the detail of the statement.

“For the avoidance of doubt, it is hereby reiterated that inappropriate dressings such as tight jeans trousers, cut-off trousers, mini-skirts/dresses, tummy and navel shirt transparent/exposing outfits, spaghetti strapped dresses, mismatched clothes, rubber slippers, tattered shoes and rough hairstyles, (to mention but a few) that are unnecessary distractions would no longer be condoned and will henceforth attract appropriate sanctions.”

From the highlighted bits of the above paragraph, you would find it strange that I was engaged in a discussion where someone disingenuously suggested this prescriptive delineation, was unisex rather than referring to women in particular. I am trying to get my head around the idea that men wear dresses to work or are inclined to adorn drag costumes.

The later part of the paragraph might well apply to all genders, but we would be deceiving ourselves if we did not recognise that this was primarily addressed to womenfolk and any inclusion of men in this apparent scattergun generalisation of mismatched clothes, slippers, shoes and hairstyles was purely coincidental.

The subjectivity of decency and moderation

In closing, there is a clear adjuring of the line management in the terms below:

“In view of the foregoing and to further maintain a positive corporate image of a reputable organisation, all divisional, departmental and sectional heads, especially heads of personnel are once again enjoined to ensure monitoring of compliance of employees (sic) dressings (sic) with emphasis on decent, moderate and smart national and formal English wears (sic).”

In other words, the NPA has initiated a fashion police of its management chain to ensure decent and moderate ‘dressings’ amongst the ranks.

Now, I have no issue with an organisation striving to ensure its employees and representatives present a business and corporate look towards what they call a ‘positive corporate image of a reputable organisation’. Whether that is the clear objective or something more sinister is play is left to conjecture.

The control of feminine apparel

What we cannot deny is the fact that some societies actively measure their moral standing through the control and regulation of the apparel of their womenfolk. Nigeria is no stranger to moves to introduce prescriptive dress codes on women from the National Assembly, spearheaded by supercilious and sententious women ably supported by men on grounds of religion, culture, and tradition. This issue is ably discussed in a piece for OpenDemocracy.Net by Dr. Bibi Bakare-Yusuf, titled, Of mini-skirts and morals: social control in Nigeria.

The matter of what is decent, moderate or moral is subjective. Only last week, the Indian Tourism Minister was advising, or should we say, instructing female tourists not to wear skirts or walk alone in small or rural cities in response to the many high profile assaults women have suffered in India. [The Guardian]

Whilst, the advice is well-intentioned, it does not address the real issue which is a seeming tolerance of assault occasioning the abuse and violation of women based on their appearance, rather than a zero-tolerance towards men who appear to be excused to act as wild beasts completely without control of their urges and actions when they sight a woman unaccompanied or dressed in some particular way.

My view was and still remains that the Tourism Minister and even everywhere else, the louder campaign should follow the mantra of the demonstrations in 2012 to which I penned an opinion piece. It's a Dress, NOT a Yes.

Blog – Opinion: It’s a Dress, NOT a YES.

Then in France, we have the culture and political wars on the burkini and other conflated religious and cultural apparel that women either choose or are probably compelled to wear. [Spiked-Online]

It is paternalistic at best

However, back to the main issue, the NPA is within its rights to advice and suggest all employees should present professionally in apparel and in manner, but when you begin to single out particular items of clothing as a laundry list of the unacceptable, one begins to wonder if it is adults being addressed or kids.

This goes to the general paternalistic situation of many societies where from childhood people take instruction and as hierarchies develop into adulthood, there is some sort of elite that arrogates to itself some lordship of the others, in religious, in corporate, in cultural, in social and in traditional settings that dictates what others must do or suffer some consequence.

It is an unhealthy power dynamic that robs people of reasoning capacity, autonomy, initiative, ownership of their choices and ultimately responsibility.

As we genuflect to authority figures in an obsequious desire of their approbation, we lose individuality and uniqueness in personality to some dronish conformance to some boring norm. We might as well all be poured into one-sized uniforms of appearance and conduct. The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, anyone?

Treat adults as adults

I want to believe that we all as adults should know how to conduct ourselves in a corporate environment and by that, it would pertain to dress and attitude, that it should not need some overbearing government apparatchik to command the state of dress on anyone.

The few outliers who are unaware of what conduct should pertain can be addressed directly and probably mentored by example and encouragement, without insulting the intelligence of the broader majority that knows how to behave.

That, in my view, is a better way to approach this issue. We are in an era where such silly excesses of officialdom pretending to some vision and mission statement conveyed through the regulation of dress will be excoriated without respite.

Give people the freedom and respect to be responsible adults and you will get responsible people, begin to order them around and you’ll have a riot on your hands in no time. It goes without saying that the NPA statement was a public relations disaster, it could have been better written and conveyed a much-matured approach, but what is power abused, if it cannot be condescending and there is much belittlement, condescension, patronising and unmitigated abuse in Nigeria – it needs to stop.

Finally, whilst the way people dress might be an outward expression of character and personality, it does not define character, personality nor integrity, we should not get that concept wrong and how you dress is neither a measure nor definer of your ultimate productivity in any environment. The prescription of dress in any emancipated society should only pertain to health and safety procedures and never on subjective morality issues.