Genuinely Busy, or just a Busy-body?

I've been thinking. About times when I get a lot done. When I am swamped and quite occupied, but still manage to do what is important.
Besides purposing to do this and that, I actually create time to duly attend to what I consider of great important, since it is high on my priorities list.

Funny enough, I never go around telling people how busy I have been or am, it simply ain't cool and such mindless assertions add no value no matter the circumstances.
Busy or not, whatever was to be done remains undone.

The reason I write the above is a general trend I have noticed that irks me a great deal - people unashamedly hiding behind the word "busy" and thoughtlessly using it as an excuse for breaking promises and failing to do the needful. Guys will easily say they've been too busy to reply to an Email, return a call or respond to texts and IM. In fact, people will claim to have been too busy to do what they actually get paid to do.

In the past month, I had to severally remind some public relations official in very respectable companies to reply to long-overdue Emails. The common reply was that they've been too busy to find time to write Emails, all of which was essentially part of their job description. All along, these same guys were tweeting and sharing jokes on their personal Facebook accounts, on their respective companies' time.

My travails aside, have you been finding it too easy to claim you've been too busy that you never courteously excused yourself from an engagement, that you were too busy that you couldn't respectively suggest a postponement or suggest that some person else handle an urgent matter?

Take time and think about why you can't find the time to do the important stuff.
Consequently, stop telling others just how busy you've been, and simply do the needful.

You ask Why Me. I ask Why Not You?

Yesterday, novelist Chinua Achebe was buried in Nigeria. He died in March in New York, where he spent his sunset days following a near-fatal accident that left him largely paralyzed.

On the day of his burial, BBC Newsday ran an archive interview in which Chinua Achebe talked to Veronique Edwards. He spoke about how he'd like to be remembered. Additionally, he shared some interesting insights about tragedy, both in his life and in his written works.

Listen to Chinua Achebe below:

listen to ‘Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe reflected on how he will like to be remembered’ on Audioboo

The above audio clip is loaded with insights.

When Veronique pointed out that Mr Achebe does look younger and doesn't seem resentful, Achebe found this interesting, and asked, "..resentful about what?"

In the interview, Achebe goes on to acknowledge that tragedy is ever present in life, just as it is in his books. When one asks "Why Me?" he asks "Why Not You?" When we think we should not undergo some things, Achebe wisely asks if we do have someone in mind who should instead endure the suffering.
The entire interview of Chinua Achebe speaking to the BBC's Veronique Edwards:



Here's a similar post remembering Chinua Achebe on PeteRNjenga.com.

In addition to being a celebrated author whose books continue to shape opinion, Chinua Achebe presents a most admirable take on life, especially in the face of tragedy and what many of us consider undeserved fate.

Have an awesome weekend.

Telling it like it is

Today's post will be unusually short. Straight from the heart, straight to the point.
It is my considered opinion that many words will only serve to erode its core meaning.

It so happens that the world is made up of two kinds of people. Those who are open-minded, and those who are not. The liberals and the conservatives. Those who are largely objective and the overtly subjective. Those will to live and let live, and those who harbor prejudice and bias. Those who agree to disagree, and those who love to hate.

Within the confines of decency, and taking care not to hurt sensibilities, all life issues, should be subject to topical discourse. No grey areas. Anything and everything that affects our lives can constructively inform debate. And elicit opinions which no matter how divergent, should be respected. Not entirely agreed to by every one, but accommodated.

When you look at Michelangelo's 'David' above, do you marvel and admire the masterpiece, or do you turn away in shame, as you recoil at the statue's nakedness?

Is it right to invariably tell it like is?