The world’s changed, you've stayed the same Amongst fancy pens, your look's mundane Your ink, your hue, you’re still as blue Yet you happily exist without a clue Surrounded by pens, still there are few My very first blue pen, yes it was you It’s vivid, my excitement of turning ten When school let us write with a pen But with you, there’s a bitter reality In using you, we’re heartless, arbitrary We use and throw, lose or forget you For we know, there’ll always be another you In creating you, there’s plastic and ink Let’s not be wasteful, we must rethink Please finish the pen that you’re using Change wasteful habits, stick with one thing Write and write, until the ink runs out Borrow a pen, but remember to return it And if you see a pen, lying half-used Pen your thoughts when you’re confused Don’t bin the pen, until it’s over Be judicious as its owner Use it to bring bold ideas to paper For inked wise ideas can protect nature
As a marketer currently visiting my birthplace, Nigeria, how can I not share my commentary about Indomie ! For the uninitiated, Indomie for many Nigerians is more than just a product . Over four decades, this Indonesian brand of instant noodles has swirled its way into being a staple on the dining tables of the people of this West African country, both locals and expats alike. Here, you don’t eat noodles, you eat Indomie. As little kids in school in the early 90s, I envied that one classmate who used to enjoy those yummy soggy chicken flavoured Indomie noodles for lunch while I ate the healthy tiffin my mum packed for me (delicious as it was). As teenagers, our evening congregation was incomplete without a packet of Indomie that we crushed, seasoned, and ate off the packet (what a snack!). And as high school students studying our nights away during exam season, our hungry stomachs and tiring minds only craved that warm bowl of Indomie. For years, Indomie had no competition –