The Pondering Bear

IDK

2012-09-05T18:54:00.002-07:00

How will I, How Can I

Song after song, playlists building

An Image I refuse to erase

That smile, Innocent but yet so damaging

My earth angel, shall I borrow the phrase?

Indeed I am just a fool, wising up after every wipe

So near, yet so far. In every face I see, every face

Dress to Impress when I near there, you know where

Please be mine, please come back

At least visit me in my dream, let me hold you

I struggle to hold on to your face, but you're fading my dear

I prayed for this, this fade, but now I want your image back

Dangerously addicted to everything about you

Your hug, your stab, our bitching, our laughing

What's the point, its ruined, there's nothing we can do

But then again, where there's life, there's hope

So darling, as long as I live, I'll keep hoping

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 9)

2012-07-08T17:20:00.005-07:00

The journey lasted only 2 hours and before he knew it, Chidi was in the motor park with Brother John. As they walked past the crowded motor park, John explained how life was in Onitsha. He warned Chidi to always be careful with whom he spoke to and what he did with people as everyone only cared about personal benefit. “There is no friendship in Business” John said to him. As they approached the parked cars, Chidi noticed a slim, dark skinned beautiful woman run to John, he realised that this was John’s so much talked about girlfriend. “This is my brother I told you about Chidi” John said as the lady smiled at him. She was beautiful. “Chidi this is my wife to be Nonye” Nonye extended her hand to shake a very nervous Chidi. “My boy come here. Welcome to Onitsha!” Chidi thought to himself that this was a very nice woman. “Chidi you will go with Nonye eh I need to just rush to the shop for to check the books. I will see you later. As they got to the house, Chidi looked round his new home. “My friend! What are you looking at?” Nonye’s voice sounded harsh. This wasn’t the voice of the beautiful lady he had met at the motor park. “Bring your bags in quickly! You will sleep in that room over there and you must never eat in the sitting room. You eat in the kitchen are you hearing? Good. Also you will use this stainless steel plate and cup for your meals and never my breakable plates! If you can abide to these rules I might just be able to tolerate you around here.” With this she went into the living room and stretched her legs. Chidi went to his newly ‘assigned’ room. There was a mat that he was to roll up after using it to sleep at night. The room also had a ceiling fan, which looked like it needed a really good clean. There was also a cupboard that could just about contain Chidi’s clothes and body cream also his toothbrush. He was happy about the bathroom that was in his room although; at least he would not have to disturb Nonye if he ever needed to take a bath. After sleeping for about 4 hours, Chidi came out of his room. “Good evening Nonye I just woke up, can I please get something to eat?” Nonye gestured her hand to him towards the kitchen. He decided that he would stay out of her way as much as possible. He saw the plate of beans and plantain that awaited him in his plate. He filled his cup with some cold water and took his meal to his room. He would only be able to eat in there or in the kitchen. In his room, he opened the windows and switched the off the ceiling fan, He then rolled up his mat and sat on the floor and ate his meal. As he ate he thought about Amara and how he wished he had hugged her longer in the park before leaving; at least he saw her before leaving. After eating, he put on a pair of slippers and decided to explore the area, there was no way he was staying in with Nonye. He quickly rinsed out his plate and cup in the bathroom and kept them near his mat. He then combed out his hair and went to the sitting room; “Nonye I am going out to see what our area is like.” She turned towards him “At this time? Anyway, your brother would soon be back, just be careful oh! Be back on time” Chidi wondered why she sounded like she cared. The streets were filled with the noise of children playing “ten ten” and the air was pregnant with the smell the roast plantains being hawked by middle aged women. As Chidi strolled the streets of Azikiwe Lane, he thought about his mother, his family but mostly of Amara. What was she doing now? Was she thinking of him? Was she at the stream? He observed the cars that drove past him on the undone roads. He wondered why Nonye’s tone changed towards him as he left the house. “She must be crazy” he thought aloud. “Bros! Bros! Oh boy no be you I dey call!” Chidi turned round whoever it was that chose to disturb his thoughts. He saw a boy about his age but slightly taller than him walking briskly towards him one hand holding his crotch as he imitated the American way of “bouncing”. Finally his caller approached him; “How can I help you?” Chidi asked. “Oyibo! abeg I just noticed that you are a new face around here. Anyway my name is Ignatius. I live just there”, his hand gestured backwards. Chidi smiled with a face that pretended like it cared. Something about Ignatius struck him as he watched his lips utter words that he probably didn’t need to. Chidi’s eyes played the role of a scanner as observed Ignatius’ clothing. The boy wore a green shirt that looked that it needed a thorough wash. He had on a pair of trousers and a pair of sandals. His hair was combed but slightly parted at the side; it also had quite an unusual texture, one that had been relaxed. “Bros! U dey hear the thing wey I dey talk abi your mind dey for Kafanchan!” Chidi’s call back to reality. “Yes my name is Chidi, no be say I no dey speak broken, I fit oh! I am from Ukigwe but I have come to Onitsha to start an apprenticeship with my uncle. So what do you do for a living?” Ignatius laughed but it was not a cheerful one; “I speak perfectly good English my brother but when you stay around here, pidgin is the order of the day!” Both boys laughed. “I work with my brother who is a mechanic but my specialty is vulcanising. I hope to save enough from the little money I am earning to go to Lagos and achieve my dream. I hear that there the streets are paved with gold. So will you be staying alone? Oh and by the way if you need anything around the area Chiboy, just ask Iggy and I will be there!” Chidi slightly amazed by his new name, Chiboy agreed and before he knew it he was telling Ignatius about his dreams in life, Amara and Amadi. Both boys as they strolled back to their various homes as the sun set realised that they had so much in common. They were both educated but could not further their aspirations as the grip of poverty was too strong to let go off. Brother Jonathan was sat in the living area with Nonye. His hand was over her shoulder as they both watched the news broadcast as Chidi walked in. “My boy! I see you have feasted your eyes at your new home. Hope you like it. I saw you with Ignatius as I was on my way home. Good boy that one always doing justice to my tyres!” Jonathan joked. Nonye’s eyes were still fixed at the television but Chidi knew that her mind was not in what Tokunbo Ajayi was broadcasting. “I was looking around the area. It is much better than the village oh. Brother I am very tired you know and the night is already here I think I just want to go and lie down.” Chidi yawned stretching. “Ah ok oh. My boy sleep well, tomorrow awaits us. Nonye, Chidi anamago oh (is going to bed)”. Nonye quickly looked at Chidi, her movements still being closely observed by Chidi. “Sleep well Chidi. Goodnight” As he rolled out his mat on the floor, Chidi thought about his day. A new life awaited him and his future was nothing but a reach away. He thought about Amara and how they used to sit at the front of the stream every night talking about their hopes and dreams. That night he dreamt of himself as a successful merchant driving a big car home to his wife. As he opened the door his “wife” approached him to embrace him. She wasn’t Amara.

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 8)

2012-07-08T17:20:00.001-07:00

Sunday morning. Amadi had packed his bag the night before and before dropping the bombshell that he was leaving the village with Chidi but going to Abuja to start a new life with the help of his friend. Musa a former houseboy was now a self made man. “If he could do it then why can’t I?” He used his hand to smoothen his moustache and little beard he kept underneath his chin. This was no longer the little boy Mr. Theophilus accused of stealing amounts of money from. This was a young man about to pave a path to success for himself in a new city. He buttoned his shirt up and then tucked them into his brand new trousers he picked up from the market. He didn’t have enough money to buy a good pair of shoes so he bought himself black trainers. “It’s not as if I am going to work in NNPC” he joked to himself. When he was packed and ready he looked outside his window and saw that his little step brothers and sisters were all up and were on getting ready to go to the stream with Anulika, their father’s youngest wife. He went out to them. “Chidi would you bring us Onitsha biscuits when you come back and Amadi can you please bring us nice shoes and a ball and Nnenna says she wants a dolly baby” The children asked expectantly from the brothers. “Of course I will and when I have made plenty of money I will come back to get all of you” Amadi said smiling at the children he looked above Nnenna and saw her mother Anulika she was smiling and Amadi sometimes wondered to himself if she fancied him even though he was 2 years younger than her and her stepson. He smiled back and patted each child on their head before giving them a 50 naira note. “Buy yourselves something with this” he realised how much he’ll miss them as he saw Chidi give them 50 naira too and give them a hug. He walked to Anulika “Take care of yourself me and Chidi are off to the station its 9 o’clock already and I don’t want Chidi to miss the bus eh.” “Ijeoma oh (safe journey) remember to take care of yourself and don’t go and follow Nwunye Hausa or become an Alhaji” she joked. He grabbed his bag and waited for Chidi to say his goodbyes. As the brothers set off each took a last look at their father’s home knowing that as they turned away even though going different directions, they were off to a better life. A life that they were both privileged to have. A life that could change other lives forever. This life awaited them and all they needed to do was reach to grab it and never let it slip. “Nna I am so excited oh, I can’t wait to get to Abuja and see Musa it has been so long and he is even married now.” Amadi said patting Chidi in a playful way. “So how long are you planning on staying with them for? I mean you will have to find your own feet after a while won’t you?” His brother asked. “I plan on moving out by next month maybe to a one-bedroom flat or something”. As they approached the bus station, Amadi checked his watch. The time was 9.20 and he was just 3 minutes early to board his coach. He looked round as he saw women with their babies strapped to their backs with wrappers as they all tried to sell kola nuts to the people on the coaches. He also saw young boys pushing wheelbarrows that contained the luggage of people travelling. He made sure he absorbed everything from his hometown. “In 6 hours time I will be an Abuja boy!” He chuckled to himself. “Well bros I’m off oh. Safe Journey eh and I will send you a letter with a phone number you can reach me on as soon as I can eh. Be good oh!” He gave his brother a handshake, although he noticed his Chidi was looking all around as if he were expecting something important. He was going to ask him where Amara was but he felt it was best for Chidi that her name was not mentioned. The coach was a luxurious one. He made sure he saved up enough money to get a luxurious coach to Abuja. Inside where everyone was secure from the hot air outside, the air conditioner released waves of cool breeze so good that he wanted to fall asleep but he had made up his mind to try to be as awake as possible so he could pass everywhere he had heard about, from Ile Ife to Lokoja. From Enugu to Nya Nya. He looked out of his window towards his brother and saw Amara running to Chidi. Then he saw them hug each other very tightly and then Chidi got into a Bus. It all happened so quickly that he didn’t even realise that the coach was already moving slowly. As the coach pulled out of the station and onto the road, he could hear a man praying out loudly as people responded to his favours with loud shouts of Amen! He looked out to see what direction Chidi’s bus turned. It went opposite. As the coach accelerated, Amadi closed his eyes and thought about everything he was leaving and what he was going to meet. This was definitely a new start for him and he was willing to grab it with every breath he took. “Welcome to Abuja” Amadi saw the signs at every turn the bus took. This was much different to what he at left at Ukigwe. There were much more beautiful cars that crammed the road. Men in Kaftans and women in Hijabs walked up and down the street. As he tried to look into car windows as hard as he could, he noticed the way the drivers of the nice cars looked. They wore smarts suits and the women wore expensive laces. The sun was shining brightly and he could fill his heart leap with excitement as the coach turned into the Julius Berger Bus Station in Wuse. As he got off the bus he noticed Musa immediately and went over to him. Musa looked much more different that the boy he served with in Onitsha. He was much taller now and looked fair despite the weather he was in. He wore a pink shirt that was tucked into neatly ironed Beige khaki trousers. He had slippers on. Musa looked smart and respectable. Amadi secretly thanked God that he himself looked smart today. As he approached Musa he noticed that friendly smile his friend always had for him and even though they were from different tribes, Amadi sometimes referred to Musa as his brother. “Ahh! You got here just at the time I predicted. Brother long time no see! And once again welcome to Abuja!” Musa gave Amadi a warm and welcoming hug. “Thank you oh! This your weather is like the Sahara desert” Amadi joked. Musa led the way to where his car was parked. It was a Mercedes V Boot. Musa put Amadi’s bags at the back seats and then gestured Amadi to go to the front seat. As Amadi put on his seat belt, he felt proud. He was in a ‘big’ car. Musa got in and started the car. As they drove through the streets of Abuja, Amadi and Musa talked about their time at Onitsha and how Musa had made a fortune for himself after opening an Electronics shop. Musa lived in Wuse II, the rich district of Abuja. With 5 rooms and a big reception, Musa’s house was definitely the house for the rich Nigerian. Musa had a wife Halimat, who was as Amadi could tell by the way she spoke, a humble very educated woman. “So I finally get to meet the Amadi my Musa is always talking about!” She said giving him a hug as he entered their house. She then made sure Musa and Amadi sat at the table as she served them some Rice and Chicken stew. “Please I want you to see my house as your house because you are my brother from another mother” Musa joked. After they had finished eating, Amadi was shown his room. “My God! This is too much now!” Amadi said in joy. His room had a television, a soft king sized bed, and a wonderful view to the street leading to the Nicon Hilton Hotel and the Holy Trinity catholic church in Maitama. Amadi thanked his friend and wife and before he knew it he was fast asleep because he knew the next day he would begin working with Musa and hopefully making a better pavement for himself in life.

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 7)

2012-07-08T17:19:00.000-07:00

It was 5.00 PM. The entrance of the Ukigwe Secondary School was packed with students who had just finished writing their exams. There was a lot excitement in the air, students asking each other what questions they had left out in the exam and how each person thought the exam was either Devil sent or God sent. Amara and her friend Dumebi talked about how the feeling in the exam hall was. “I saw Ukeje busy looking left and right and then up and down as if the answers were some where hidden in the air. That boy is never serious. He is just lucky that he is going to London after our exams to learn Business. His brother has money to waste” Dumebi joked. The girls both laughed but a hand on Amara’s shoulder caught their laughter short. “How did you find it?” Chidi asked her with an expectant smile. “Yeah, yeah…it….”she stammered. “Have you got something hot in your mouth or something?” He joked, “Yeah it was good” She wanted to say more but she couldn’t even look at him well. “Cool. I’m going to be at the stream this evening if you fancy a chat about last week, yeah?” Before she could even reply he had run off. She had a huge grin on her face at the thought of seeing him in the evening but she knew it wouldn’t be for long as they both had to study for their results the next day. “What happened last week?” Dumebi asked in a very inquisitive voice and also with that look on her face you get when someone asks you something but they already know the answer. The afternoon was long and Amara had been studying. In her heart she wished she could just make the time of the day change to evening. She felt like leaping out her skin when the clock hit 6.00. She quickly changed into a nice pink dress that had embroided laces at the end that seems like flowers but the originally white colour of the flowers had faded to a creamier colour. Then she made sure she dapped her neck and her wrists with some cheap perfume she had bought from Onitsha on her last visit. She put on her black slippers and left the house. The journey to the stream seemed quicker than it normally did for her, maybe it was the thought of being with Chidi alone after their last meeting that excited her. Whatever it was she couldn’t wait to b e close to him. As she walked she thought about how he had crept up to her. “See Dumebi I’ll see you later I need to rush off now but we’ll talk tomorrow yeah. Revise well you know tomorrow is our History Exam. Ok Bye Bye” She waved and hurried off as fast as she could. She could barely hear Amara saying Bye back but she really didn’t care. She just wanted to see Chidi that was all that mattered in her mind. She quickly put on her red polka dotted dress with a pair of ballet black shoes. She packed her hair in one bun but let some of the front down to look like a fringe. However it didn’t stay even after 3 hopeless attempts so she used a hair clip to hold it down. Then she sprinkled some of her perfumed talcum powder around her, as she loved the light fruity smell it had, she put on a watch and set out to the stream. There was something different about the night, the sky was dark blue almost black, and the breeze was not cool and refreshing, rather it felt like ice blocks were been thrown in the air. She left the house in a hurry and didn’t even notice her mother reminding her to be home by at most 8.00. The journey towards the stream tonight felt different. Gone were the nice cool breezes that blew her hair slightly backwards. Gone were the cricket noises that always sounded beautiful to her. Tonight they sounded angry and as she approached the stream the voices of the crickets got louder and louder. She tripped on a stone and her feet hurt a lot. “A bad omen” she thought carrying on until she noticed Chidi’s built structure and increased her pace. “Hey” She muttered a when Chidi turned to her. He had a big smile on his face but she couldn’t smile back. “I thought you weren’t going to come. I’ve had a wonderful day and as the evening approached I felt much happier. Do you want some akara? I wrapped it in paper today” he stretched out the newspaper, which looked steamy from the hot bean balls in them. “No… I just ate” She lied. “So Chidi what exactly happened the other night. I came back and didn’t see you. You just left me, made me cry you you..”She spoke and didn’t notice her voice getting louder “Shut up! Just shut up! You seem to make this all about you! You just ran off without letting me explain and even as I called you back you didn’t even care to stop. How on earth could you expect to meet me here when you came back? Eh! What do you take me for? Its not only your heart that could hurt mine could too! They both stood facing each other directly. Chidi’s eyes burned with a kind of anger Amara had never seen before and so they were quiet. So quiet and it felt that the world was quiet with them too and that the sound of a pin dropping in the sand would be deafening. “I don’t know. I just don’t know” she said repeatedly she couldn’t look at his face and so she looked at their feet and searched for words but they never seemed to come to her. Finally with a courage she plucked she asked that question they had never asked. A question so obvious but so lost. “I am Osu. How will we ever work?” She knew it could work though as they were both leaving the village. No one had to know. It could be their little secret but she wanted different things. She wanted a career for herself first, and then she wanted a house before a man. “Amara remember you always said there’ll be a way and if it seems like one then you just create one. We could create one. I want to but..” He lifted her face that was still gazed at the ground and the feel of his hand sent tingles all over her skin. “But I don’t think you want to. If it is about you being an Osu you know I don’t mind and.” He paused as if to block something “and if you think we won’t work can we at least remain friends. I am leaving for Onitsha on Sunday. How about you come to the bus station with me or I’ll see you there before I board? She didn’t answer. She wanted to say yes but she couldn’t. “I’ll see you Amara. I am leaving by 9.30 and if I don’t see you by then, well I’ll err understand. Bye” He walked off back home or wherever it was that he was going too. She whispered “bye” but knew he couldn’t hear her. She started back home. “I will go and see him but I can’t be with Chidi I have to sort my life out and its not as if our families will be happy seeing us together. I’m only doing this for me and him.” She reassured herself. She was not crying, she had a guilty pleasure seeing Chidi telling her he was willing to make them work. She grinned to herself, she loved him, and she knew she did and hoped the best for him but she was not ready for a relationship with him. “If we are meant to be together then fate will bring us together” There was something different about the air it just seemed to get colder and colder as she got home and the leaves bowed as she walked past each little leaf.

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 6)

2012-07-08T17:18:00.002-07:00

Chidi sat looking into the stars. He felt really stupid and rejected. He wondered why he even said anything to Amara. “Just look out how she ran away eh as if I was going to bite her. I shouldn’t have wasted my time. Oh my god, eh what is this? What is all this? Ah!” He thought to himself what life would be like if only Amara had said she loved him back. He could imagine them leaving the village, getting married, having kids and just being happy not caring about what people thought or said. He felt let down, betrayed by the girl he loved so dearly. He wanted to cry but he couldn’t every time he felt a tear he quickly thought about Onitsha, maybe Amara wasn’t right for him. Maybe they were just supposed to be friends and nothing more, maybe he would meet someone better than her, but he couldn’t think of anyone who could ever even be an inch better. “Why did she run? Have I scared her or was I too forward? Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I hope I haven’t hurt her. I shouldn’t have walked away. I should have just stayed and talked things over with her. I hope I can sort this by tomorrow, I can’t lose her, not now not ever!” He lay down watching the stars, he wished he didn’t walk away, maybe she would have admitted to being in love with her. Maybe she loved him but was scared of what the villager would say. “She shouldn’t be. No one would have to know” He felt like just going to her house to talk to her. To hold her at least see her. He felt sick, wanted to throw up but he was scared his heart would come out if he did. For once in his life Chidi felt like a little child and all he wanted was a comforting hug from someone who cared and understood how he felt. The weather temperature deteriorated and he got up dusted his behind and started home. “Where have you been eh? I thought you had run away with that girl” His brother joked. Chidi didn’t want to tell Amadi about what had happened that night. He knew that Amadi wouldn’t hesitate to insult Amara. “I was just with Okoye and Ukeje. I’m very tired I think I’ll just go to sleep” He walked away quickly even though he could see that Amadi wanted to say something back. His brother sensed his heavy heart and he knew it. In his room he took of his shirt and lay on his mat. It was one of those evening when the mosquitoes decided to feed on the blood of as many people that didn’t have nets as possible. His night was preoccupied with so much thoughts of Amara that he sometimes forgot to hit the mosquitoes that perched on his torso from time to time. “I won’t even talk about it to her again. I just look forward to Onitsha and what is has to offer me”. In his heart he was hoping that Amara would just apologize for her reaction to him earlier that evening. Then he would forgive her and maybe they could even have a future together. If she didn’t then when he went to Onitsha he would forget her. Completely. It was Monday morning. Chidi had spent the weekend studying hard for his first exam today. Mathematics was his favourite subject. He sometimes joked that every Igbo person was a master of mathematics in his or her own way. He hadn’t seen Amara since their little encounter and he knew he might not see her today. She was probably worried about her own exams as she wasn’t very good at maths. He had helped her study for time to time and hoped she would at least be able to get a C grade or her parents would be very disappointed. He put on his white shirt, his pens were neatly arranged at the pocket and his trouser was ironed with two sharp lines in the front. He called them “gatos”. He didn’t need to carry any books to school as it was against the school rules to have books in school during the exam. He combed his hair and brushed his little beard that was appearing under his chin. These were his final exams and he remembered how his mother had gotten him ready on his first day in secondary school. Now his was a young man about to leave the village for a new life in the big city, but first he had to get his exams done. His shoes were polished and he made sure he had a pair of socks he had washed for this day on. He would look his best. He stepped out of the house and headed for school. “Chidi! Chidi! Bros stop now abi is it not the same exam that we are going to write today? Chai! You are looking so fresh today oh!” Ukeje forever looking scruffy complimented Chidi. “Have you revised?” Ukeje asked with a look in his eye as if he hoped that Chidi didn’t revise. “Trust now! Bros I don’t mess with my maths oh talk less of my education. You look like you didn’t revise. Ah! You didn’t. Your mother will kill you this boy!” Chidi laughed. He was tired of always begging Ukeje to study. Ukeje was lucky anyway because even if he studied or not, his brother Jonah was going to take him to London after their SSCE’s to do a course in Business. “Oh boy! I don’t care by this time next year I am going to be a London Boy!” Ukeje joked and raised his collar up. “Chidi!” Chidi heard someone call his name. He knew it was Amara but he didn’t want his mind weighed down by her. He wanted to just go into his exam hall and write his paper. He quickly moved into a group of students and saw her walk up to a group of girls she hung around with. The bell rang. Time for everyone to go in and do their best to pass. Chidi felt a rush through him. Almost like a spark of electricity. He went into the hall and took his seat. Looking round he saw some people praying. “Heaven helps those who help themselves. Like if God is going to come down and help you now” He joked to himself. The bell rang again. The invigilator came in “It is now 9.00 AM, your paper ends at 10.30 AM. You can begin writing. Good Luck”.

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 5)

2012-07-08T17:16:00.002-07:00

Amara was dressed in her finest dress today and she also had fixed her hair properly and had a single rose attached near her ear. She was just reading a poem when she saw Chidi running towards her with a big smile on his face. She wondered what it was that made him look so happy this afternoon. A part of her mind hoped that his father had been able to provide a means for him to go to Lagos. “I was just coming to your…Ah ah what is all this lovely dressing today. You are looking extra special oh.” Chidi said looking at her. “How come you are not at home? I was just about coming to your house,” He asked. “Eh I just wanted to sit by the road. I like the weather today it feels so positive. Do you want one of my flowers?” She gave him a flower and then he fixed it by his ear and pounced round like a girl. They both laughed but Amara’s voice was louder. “So what is it that is making you so happy this afternoon?” she asked. “Eh you will not believe it. I am going to Onitsha next week Sunday. Brother John says he will sponsor my education and in return I will help him run his shop. Nnem you don’t know how happy I am feeling and I thought I should share my joy with you.” Amara was shocked. “This Sunday? Why so soon?” She looked at Chidi. Shocked but her heart melted because he looked so happy. “At least he will be able to leave this village,” she thought. “I am going to miss you oh. Don’t forget me when you get to Onitsha” She gave him a hug that lasted for about a minute. She wanted to kiss him but she felt that it wasn’t right. Plus he didn’t make a move, which meant he didn’t want to kiss her. Her eyes were burning with tears. “Ah see this big girl crying I haven’t gone yet” he joked. She was going to miss his jokes but then like he said he wasn’t gone yet. “Do you want to get some biscuits? I feel like taking something sweet. I’ll buy you one even though you haven’t bought any for me you stingy boy.” They both went to the market. During the journey they didn’t say much to each other. Amara felt like she was crying on the inside. She didn’t want him to know how sad she felt about him leaving. She also felt like him leaving meant that they might never see each other again. She was going to Lagos and didn’t have any plans of coming back to the village. Although she couldn’t bear the thought of not being with him again she also understood that she needed to make a future for herself. Somewhere away from the village. Away from the smirk looks she got from the girls in her school. She also felt a hope. Her mother always said to her “If 2 people are destined to be together then they will meet again one day if they are ever separated.” They were at the stream. Chidi putting the biscuit crumbs all over his hair and acting as if he had dandruff much to Amara’s amusement. “You know something Amara?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer the question “I will miss you so much you don’t know. Its times like this I haven’t shared with anyone. I love you Amara from the bottom of my heart. I really do.” He stopped as if he expected her to say something back but she kept quiet. “Please say something. Anything. Amara” She just looked at him in shock. She wanted to say so much but she didn’t know where to start. “Chidi I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow” She quickly got up and ran off. She could hear him calling her to come back wand she wanted to but she was scared. She was scared of her feelings for him. She kept saying in her head “Forgive me Chidi, Forgive me”. She ran till his voice calling her name constantly faded away. When she was sure she was far from him all she felt strange. She wanted to cry but she couldn’t. How was she going to ever face him again? Lots of questions went round her head as if it were a merry-go –round. “I have to go back to him. What have I done? I mean I love him, or do I? I do. Oh God please let him still be there?” She ran back to the stream. She could see his shadow from a distance. The more she saw him the faster she ran towards him. He just stood there with a look of extreme shock in his face. She threw her hands round him and kissed his neck but he didn’t respond. “Amara?” That was all he said. He stepped back and walked away. In a state of total awe and shock, Amara couldn’t decide what to do. Her emotions were in a mess. She had just missed the one true chance to admit her feelings to Chidi but she was secretly pleased in her heart that Chidi loved her. She would see him tomorrow. She had to; it was a chance for her to let her feelings out at least before he left the village. She went home. She stared out the window in her room as she prepared to lie in bed. She try to recreate what had happened earlier on in the evening only that she reacted differently. She admitted she loved him and kissed him. They went swimming together in the ocean and she let the waves in the water run through her newly relaxed hair. They hugged and kissed by the moonlight and told each other how much they cared about each other. But she was dreaming. It wasn’t real, just a fiction in her imagination. As she lay in her bed, all she could think about was Chidi, what he said to her and the way she felt that moment. She wanted to be with him but she knew that the boundaries of society would not permit it. She wished he could go to Lagos rather than Onitsha, she felt that Lagos was more modern than Ukigwe but she didn’t want to seem selfish. She blanked the thought out of her head. Closing her eyes she tried to re enact the events of that evening but it was all in vein, all she saw when she shut her eyes was the darkness of her eyelids. “Is he thinking of me? Does he hate me? Oh God please don’t let him hate me?” She was crying but in a soft way almost as if she cried out all of her feelings. Drowsed and tired of her own tears she fell asleep.

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 4)

2012-07-08T17:15:00.002-07:00

Amadi sat in his room. The cockerel had crowed for about 4 times yet he had not arisen from his bed. He thought about where his life was going. At 19 he didn’t even have a 1st School Leaving Certificate, which was the lowest proof education. He felt sad but he never liked to show his emotions. Sometimes whenever he felt like crying he would hit himself over the head to avoid the tears, it was as if he was afraid of emotions. His younger brother Chidi had always called him Okonkwo whenever they joked. This was because Okonkwo, a man from ‘Things Fall Apart’ never showed emotions. Amadi had a lot of similarities with Okonkwo. He did things briskly and was obsessed with looking out for his family. He came out of his hut, Chidi was waiting for him. “Ah Amadi I have been waiting for you to wake up. I want you to follow me to Brother John’s house to beg him to take me to Onitsha.” Amadi looked at his brother for a second as if to say “Do you really need me to come to John’s house with you?” “Eh okay just wait let me go and put on my shirt and then we will go there eh” Amadi went into his hut and put on his best shirt and a pair of trousers. “Oya lets go”. They brothers talked about their futures as they walked. Amadi admired the way his brother was enthusiastic about leaving the village. At least his brother was not one of the ‘efulefus’ (useless people) in the village. Amadi too planned to leave the village and go to Abuja. He would tell Chidi when the finished from John’s house. John was outside his house peeling yams when he saw Amadi and Chidi. “Ah my brothers you people have remembered me today hey!”The all hugged and John brought out a bench for them from his house. When they had all sat down, Amadi spoke. “John, you know my brother Chidi very well so I guess I will not need to explain a lot about him. There is no need to beat around the bush so I will tell you our mission here. Chidi is finishing school in a matter of 2 weeks and you know my family eh” Amadi paused and chuckled, they all laughed “As I was saying eh you know my family is big and my father will not be able to send Chidi to university. I want to ask you if you can please take him with you to Onitsha when you are going eh and please assist him with university. In return he will work for you in you shop eh and you know my brother is a very hardworking boy. He will work well and he is also very honest so your money is safe eh?” They all laughed again as if it was an organised laugh but Johns laugh was the loudest. John then cleared his throat “Amadi I have heard you. Chidi is like a younger brother to me and I am willing to help him any possible way I can. I will take him to Onitsha with me and if it is about university you are worried about don’t worry. My girlfriend’s brother is a Professor in Nnamdi Azikiwe University so I will speak to him. But my business is important to me. Chidi it is in front of your brother I am begging you oh please I do not tolerate stealing or anybody trying to 419 me in my business eh. I trust you anyway so it will be easy for us. So don’t worry eh” Chidi went on his knees and thanked John. Amadi was happy, he felt that he had helped his brother in a big way and wore a big smile on his face. “So John when are you leaving?” John coughed loudly “Well I will be leaving the village next week Sunday. If it is his results he wants to collect then he will come back to they village to collect them or will it take 5 years to collect?” John said laughing “Eh he will come back for them” Amadi rose from his chair “Well John thank you so much for today. We have to be going now so I can tell my father the good news. May God continue to bless you everyday as you rise and every night as you lay in your bed” “Amen!” John and Chidi responded to Amadi’s prayer. The two brothers then left John’s house and journeyed back home. Amadi was very happy for his brother; Chidi took his steps really fast almost as if he was running. “My brother I am so happy for you oh. Before I forget I want to tell you that I am going to be leaving the village this Tuesday for Abuja. You know when I was living with Mr Theophilus, our neighbour’s houseboy Musa and I were quite close. I bumped into him the other day when I was in Onitsha and he gave me his address and suggested I come and stay with him in Abuja. There is nothing for me in this village to wait for so I think I will go to Abuja and at least start a small business. I wanted to tell you this morning but I thought we should sort you out with John so that you and me can explain all to Papa tonight. So what do you think?” Amadi said and looked at his brother with an eye that begged to agree. “This is great news brother at least now I wont feel so bad about leaving you behind alone in this village. Just don’t go to Abuja to start eating their Tuwo Geda, I heard it makes you fart a lot. The brothers laughed in uniform. Amadi had a warm feeling in his heart. “I hope papa will not say we are running away from him oh, anyway I am sure he will be happy for us.” When they got back to their compound, the kids were chasing Koki the goat. Sometimes Amadi wondered how the goat felt about being chased every day. Wasn’t she stressed, by the size of her belly Amadi wondered how the goat had the energy to run every time. Maybe she was running for the fear of being slaughtered for a get together. Their father was sitting outside his room when the brothers went to him. “Papa how are you? Looks like you are trying to relax I hope we are not disturbing you?” Amadi asked. “Ah my boy you are not. You and Chidi look very well today as if you have just found a pot of Gold. Do you want to share your joy with me?” Mazi Nduka then gestured his sons to come into his room. He sat on his bed while Amadi and his brother sat on a mat. Amadi then cleared his throat and spoke “Papa I just wanted to inform you that I will be leaving the village on Tuesday. You know things have not been working well for me here and my friend Musa has invited me to come and stay with him in Abuja and start a business. I don’t want you to think that I am leaving you all alone in the village but I want you to realise that this is for the best in the family. Also Chidi and me went to see John earlier today and he has agreed to take Chidi to Onitsha with him next week Sunday. He has also agreed to sponsor Chidi through University and in return Chidi will assist him in his shop. We came to ask for your blessing and also your opinion but I think I speak for us both when I say we are very happy about the situation.” Amadi thought that his father would immediately stand up and start shouting that his sons were leaving him but when he looked into his father’s eyes he noticed something. His father’s eyes were welling up but he was smiling. Mazi Nduka cleared his throat. “My children you don’t know how happy I feel right now. I spent the last few days worrying about your future but I am so proud that I have sons who are ready to get up and sort themselves out. May God continue to bless you forever and ever oh. Chidi I know you will make me proud. Obey John. Never do anything that will annoy him and most of all be honest with him. Amadi my son you have always made me proud in whatever you do. When you get to Abuja never forget why you are there. Grab every opportunity that comes your way and always remember your family is proud of you. The brothers then knelt down while their father placed his hands each on their heads and said a prayer for them. Amadi noticed how his father’s voice broke in between then will take a deep breath and keep praying. Amadi’s nose felt hot. He wanted to cry, and he could even feel his eyes welling up. “No I won’t cry now. It won’t make a difference whether I cry or not. Be strong Amadi, be strong,” he thought in his head. When the prayer was over both brothers left their father’s room. “Amadi I am just going to rush to see Amara. I need to discuss this movement with her” Chidi said. “Why! Is it her business? This boy you need to spend less time with that girl oh. Anyway I’m going to go to the square this evening. You coming?” Amadi asked his brother. “No I will be busy I’ll see later or tomorrow eh. Ngwa bye bye oh!” Chidi ran off. Literally. Amadi shrugged his shoulders and headed off to Obinna’s house. On his way he wondered, “What does that boy see in Amara eh? My brother is too good for an Osu girl. I think she is doing something to him if not why would such a well-educated fine young man keep going to see an outcast every day. Well whatever she has given him will not work. Tufia! It will not work. Chidi! Chidi open your eyes oh before it’s too late.”

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 3)

2012-07-08T17:14:00.001-07:00

“My father says I will go to the University of Lagos to finish my education,” These words kept repeating in Chidi’s head. He said murmured “So Amara is going to live me all alone? Any way God dey” He laughed to himself. As he strolled he thought of how he would tell his father he wanted to go to Onitsha. How his father would rant on about how he did not have any money to send him to Onitsha. He thought of how his mother would be happy if he went to Onitsha. He imagined him and his mother and his Ekene at the motor park. Ekene waving him bye with between tears and shouting out to him to buy her biscuits when next he visited. Chidi walked very fast he wanted to get home as soon as possible so that he could get some of the soup his mother was preparing that evening. It was Friday evening and therefore the day that his mother made all his father’s meals. As soon as he got into his compound Ekene ran out to him and gave him a big hug. “Chidi where were you? You were supposed to tell me about how the tortoise beat the hare in a race. Will you still tell me the story?” She asked him with a look that made his heart melt. “Ok let me eat and then you can get Emeka and Nnenna and Chigozie and I will tell you eh. His father’s third wife Joyce was the mother of Chigozie. Chigozie was 5 years old. Being only one year older than Ekene, they had a in common. They liked listening to stories and Chidi always overheard Ekene telling him about the shoes and bread in the “Eze goes to school book”. “Mama, the yam is too much. I won’t be able to finish it.” Chidi’s mother always gave him too much food. She always gave him the amount of food that 2 people will have to struggle to finish. “My son I want to you to be big. It shows that your mother is looking after you”. Chidi ate in his mother’s room. He told her of how he and Amara had gone to the stream and that he wanted to go to Onitsha to study or learn a trade. “Hmm you and this Amara girl seem to be spending a lot of time together oh” His mother did not mind him spending time with Amara. She also always avoided mentioning Amara’s name whenever he spoke about marriage. Rather she talked about him marrying other girls from the village. “That Mazi Amaechi’s daughter is nice. Very hardworking girl and I hear she likes you. My fine son”. She always laughed whenever she called Chidi a ‘fine boy’. Chidi laughed too. Not because he wanted to but because he felt sorry for the girl. He never fancied her even though a lot of boys did. Soon all the kids were around him. Little Ekene, Chigozie and Nnenna. Nnenna was the youngest out of the three. She was just 3 years old but also very inquisitive. Chidi began his story. “One hot afternoon, the tortoise was lying under a tree when Budu the Hare came. ‘I challenge you to a race. The winner has to plant yams for the loser for a year and of course we both know there can only be one winner, me.” The tortoise laughed slowly and said ‘Budu are you sure you want to race me? I will win you very easily o’ Budu was determined to race the tortoise and eventually the planned to race the next day. Throughout the night, the hare jumped up and down practising while the tortoise slept. And so the day of the race came. As soon as the whistle was blown the hare ran as fast as he could the tortoise on the other hand took a normal pace. Eventually as Budu was nearing the finishing line he said to himself ‘ Well the tortoise is very slow and I feel a bit sleepy. Maybe I should take a nap as the tortoise must still be far away.’ So Budu lay at the side of the road and slept. Rather than having a nap he fell into a very deep sleep and did not notice when the tortoise passed him to the finish line. When he woke up he started running as fast as he could to the finish line. Unfortunately for Budu the tortoise had won the race and was laughing loudly when Budu got to the finishing line. ‘At least I now know that you will be planting all my yams this year. Maybe next year you wouldn’t be so boastful’.” Ekene and Chigozie looked amazed when Chidi finished. “What did you learn from the story?” “That I should not have a big mouth!” Ekene and Chigozie said at the same time. Nnenna was already fast asleep. “Good but also that you should never be boastful. The hare was boastful to the tortoise and that is why he lost the race. Sometimes silence is the best answer. Inugo (Have you heard?)” “Yes Chidi!” They replied. “Oya every one to bed eh and I will see you tomorrow eh. He then took Nnenna to her mother’s hut. Nnenna was the daughter of his father’s last wife. Her mother Anwulika was a very kind woman. However she was young. She married Mazi Nduka when she was only 18 and had Nnenna when she was 21. At 24, fortunate girls of her age where studying in the University, however Anulika was in the village looking after Nnenna. Maybe sometimes she wished she could have a life of her own in the city. Chidi and Anwulika got on very well. He always taught her some of the things he learnt in school, as she never went to school. Chidi always noticed that Anwulika seemed unhappy most of the time, he imagined what she felt when she thought about the future of her daughter, Nnenna. He imagined that she hoped that Nnenna would have a better life and not have to be a younger wife of some man in a village. She had a face that even when she smiled, there was a pain in it. He once heard her saying to herself that she had wasted her life marrying Mazi Nduka. Chidi did not like that but a part of him agreed with her. She was too young to be a third wife, Mazi Nduka was nearly 50. He took Nnenna back to her mother’s home and placed her on the mat. “I thought she will stay with you tonight” Anwulika asked Chidi smiling. “No I was telling her, Ekene and Chigozie the story of Budu and the tortoise and before I could finish this one was already fast asleep. Did she have Pap for dinner?” Chidi said laughing loudly. “Anyway I didn’t even see you today. How have you been?” He asked her. “Fine my dear. I actually went to Ochanja market to buy Meat and I even bought you some Puff Puff. Wait let me bring it for you.” She unwrapped a small wrapper by her side and brought him the puff puff. “Hope you like it. It is the one that has pepper in it. Pepper mouth”. She handed it to him. “Thank you mah and yes I like pepper well well oh. Good night and sleep well oh!” Anwulika was the only one in the house that Chidi spoke English to the most. He felt that by this he would be helping in improving her vocabulary, and it did. He also taught her to read once in a while from his little books. When he was back on his mat in his room he thought again about his future. His final exams were on Monday. The exams took only 3 days to write and after that students began planning whether to go to University or learn a trade. In his village, only a few people went to university. Their fathers always boasted of how their children went to University to become successful doctors even before the child had a degree. Chidi always thought, “In Ukigwe if every father had his wish granted, then Ukigwe will become the land of doctors.” He didn’t want to be a doctor he wanted to be a successful businessman. Tomorrow he will go to Brother John’s house and beg him to take him to Onitsha with him when he was leaving. Brother John had always been nice to Chidi and even though they were not related, Chidi always referred to him as ‘Brother’ with a slight Igbo accent. Brother John lived in Onitsha and ran a small electronics stall. He went to London occasionally to buy goods for his store. Chidi rose suddenly from his bed “I’ll ask brother if he can pay for me to go to University and in return I’ll work for him. Chineke please help me oh (God please help me oh)” He closed his eyes back to his usual dreams of Amara.

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 2)

2012-07-08T17:12:00.004-07:00

Amara had been crying for about an hour, something she always did every afternoon as soon as she got back from Ukigwe Secondary School (U.S.S). It was something of a ritual for her as she was always excluded in a lot of school activities because her family were outcasts. They always had been isolated for being “Children of the Gods”. Her father was very wealthy. He made the biggest contribution when U.S.S was being built. He made the biggest donation at the Parish Bazaar and he was also responsible renovating the Igwe’s palace. Upon all of this he always was turned down for any Chieftaincy title because he simply was an Osu. Amara was the only child of her parents and her father always said that she inherited her mother’s good looks. At her youth Amara’s mother, Nkoli was the village beauty. She had defied her parent’s orders and married Chijioke, an Osu, Amara’s father. This automatically made her an Osu. Nkoli never since the day she married Chijioke had ever been back to her parents’ house. Her family had disowned her and chose to have nothing to do with her. Amara was a bright girl. She knew what she wanted out of life and she was prepared to achieve it. Although she didn’t have many friends in school one person she loved being around was Chidi. She loved the way he never brought up anything to do with her being an outcast in any of their conversations. He always laughed at all of her jokes even though she knew most of them weren’t funny. She liked the way he would always tell her stories of his father’s pointless hunting trips. She also loved the way that Chidi respected her and all other girls at school. He never spoke to any girl in a disrespectful way. She liked it that he never talked about building huts rather he always spoke about leaving the village starting a business getting married to the girl of his dreams and having his own family. Whenever Chidi described the girl of his dreams she somehow felt that she fit in the description in every way and secretly hoped that it would be her. She knew that a marriage between them though would be virtually impossible because she was an Osu and he wasn’t. She also knew that Chidi never supported the whole Osu issue but she wondered if he would be willing to defy his family to be with her. Surely she couldn’t cause him so much pain and put so much pressure to him so she swore that Chidi would never know her true feelings for him. ************************************************************************ She came out of her room and strolled to the kitchen. Her family was the only one in the village with a proper kitchen. Most other families did their cooking out in the open. “Mama ke ki di” (Mama how are you). Her mother smiled back and said, “I am well o” Her mother then dished her rice and some stew with a piece of meat and handed it over to Amara. While she ate Amara told her mom how the day had gone in school. The usual of how she had been isolated by the girls and how Chidi a brought her some of the akara (bean cakes) left from his breakfast. She knew her mother had noticed that her and Chidi shared something special, a friendship that was slowly developing into a relationship. Nkoli always understood when ever Amara talked about Chidi because she too defied her family to be with an Osu. They both spent the afternoon clearing up the dishes and then talking about Chidi and his leftover akara. Amara found it funny how Chidi thought he had cleverly hidden his akara in the pocket of his white shirt. The whole of it was stained with palm oil but she found it funny. Chidi sometimes acted like a little child when being mischievous. Later that evening whilst Nkoli and Chijioke sat at their veranda making jokes about their youth, Amara decided that she would instead spend the evening in the village square. Every evening, the village youth always gathered at the square to listen to the elders telling moonlight tales or sometimes the older boys had wrestling matches. Tonight though there was a wrestling match. Amara was going because Chidi had invited her. His brother, Amadi was wrestling Nnamdi. Nnamdi was a thickset young man. He had bushy eyes brows that sometimes Chidi said hid the colour of his eyes. The rules of the match were easy. The first person whose back touched the ground will be the loser of the match. While Nnamdi was a very built young man, Amadi was very light on his feet and also had a very slender built. As Amara approached the square she immediately set her eyes to look for Chidi. At first she did not see him but she saw a group of girls playing “ten ten”. She recognised Nenye among the girls and then walked to join them. As soon as Nenye saw her she moved back immediately as if Amara was a python about to attack. “My friend where do you think you are going?” Nenye asked as if she was a policewoman. Amara already knew they would not let her join them in the game so she turned away and looked for Chidi. Eventually she saw him amongst a group of boys and Amadi. “Chidi! Chidi!” When he saw her he quickly whispered something to his brother and left the boys. “Amara you this big head I thought you were not going to show up tonight eh where have you been?” He smiled warmly. “Big nose! I was just helping my mother clear up the kitchen. Have I missed the fight?” Chidi explained to her that the fight was no longer going to take place as Nnamdi was out of town. His sister was getting married to Chief Nnaemeka in Lagos so his family had left the village in the afternoon. “Do you know what? I think we should just go for a walk or something there is nothing for me to do in this square” She expected him to ask her why she didn’t join the girls playing ten ten but already she knew he would understand. She wanted to get away from the square. The square that rejected her, being there made her feel weird, as if she was an alien. “Ok let us go to the stream I could do with a swim” When they got to the stream Chidi immediately took off his shirt and jumped into the water. “So you are going to go home with wet shorts tonight eh? Your mother will break your head oh!” she joked. “She cannot break my head Amara, it is too hard from all the knocking papa does to it” Amara laughed loudly. Chidi had always told her of how his father will always give him a knock on his head whenever he made a mistake in a task. When he came out of the water they cracked some palm kernels and talked about how their final SSCE exams were approaching and what they planned to do afterwards. “My father says that I will go to University of Lagos to further my education” Amara said this with some pride. She hoped secretly that Chidi was going to say he was going to Lagos but then she came back to reality. Chidi’s family would even be lucky if they were able to send him to Onitsha talk less of Lagos. His father was a farmer and his mother sold plantains in the market. “ I don’t know what I will do after secondary school but I want to go to Onitsha. I will love to go to Lagos but you know…” Chidi laughed as if to say “you know my situation” They both started back to Amara’s house. Tonight he had promised to see her back home. They were holding hands and making jokes about their Agricultural Science teacher, Mr Nwosu. Mr Nwosu always wore the same pair of trousers to school but the problem was he never did his zip up. Chidi mimicked the fake English accent Mr Nwosu always tried to put on. “Well we are here then. I’ll see you tomorrow won’t I?” he asked. “Of course later tomorrow. Oya start going home before my papa comes and catches you here or he will cut off your legs.” They laughed still holding hands before she slipped her hand out of his and went into the house. She looked back and saw him stroll back into the darkness until he had disappeared. “My friend why are you looking at the gate! It is late I suggest you go back to bed before I count to 3!” Her father laughed as he said this. Amara liked her father. He was not very bush like most of the other men in the village. He was always calm and understanding but also very strict. As she lay on her bed she thought of going to Lagos. A town where no one would know she was an Osu and how she would be able to fit in a more accepting environment.

Sunset Across The Niger (Chapter 1)

2012-07-08T17:11:00.000-07:00

Bang! Bang! Bang! The sounds of the bullets released from Mazi Nduka’s gun. He had never caught an animal in his life yet every afternoon he would get his rusty old gun ready and his raffia hat and stroll with ease to the bushes. It had always bothered Chidi why his father was willing to spend every afternoon with this ritual and there was never any result. But today was different his father was not going hunting alone, he was going with Chidi. As his father will always say “the man who goes hunting with his father is the man who will hunt better than his father”. These words worried Chidi, as his father had never caught an animal in his entire life. The road home was always a pleasant one, because his father will always tell him stories of the tortoise and the hare. It amazed him how an animal so small and vulnerable could fool an animal so fast and wild. But then as he had always heard Janet’s papa say “Things are not always what they appear to be” Their compound was a big one filled with little huts. Each one belonging to one of his father’s wives. The biggest belonged to his father and was also the most respected hut in the house. Amadi his half brother had always said that one-day he would build a hut that was bigger than their father’s. Chidi though thought of different things. He didn’t want to build a hut that was going to be bigger than his father’s. He didn’t even want to build a hut at all. He wanted to go to the big city. He wanted to come back home in a big car and have little children run after his car every time. He didn’t want to have 3 wives, he wanted one. He wanted Amara. He didn’t want to wear raffia hats every afternoon and go hunting with a gun that never caught anything, he wanted to go to a proper office like he had heard of in the cities and sign loads of papers. Amadi came into his hut and sat opposite the room. Today there was something in his eyes. Something serious but when Chidi looked deeper he saw a softness what he could only describe as brotherly love. Chidi wondered why Amadi looked so serious but yet his hazel brown eyes were soft. They sat in silence until the silence was broken. Amadi cleared his throat and said “Nna we need to talk”. For a reason Chidi did not want to talk. He could already guess that this seriousness had to do with a girl. One girl. The girl he wanted. Amara. “I know that you like Amara. Yes she is a very beautiful girl and very respectful but you must also know one thing. She is an Osu and our family have never been known to be associated with outcasts so I will say this to you only once. My brother please please please do not bring shame to this family by ever involving yourself with her.” Amadi’s voice was serious but also there was calmness with it. He had always spoken to Chidi as if he was a thirty something year old man talking to a 3 year old child. There was never any room for interruptions or questions. Chidi loved his brother dearly but he didn’t like the way he spoke to him. Amadi was only a year older than him but he acted as if he was 10 years older. In the Nweke family Chidi was the only one who went to school. Amadi had gone to school until Primary 3 and then dropped out to serve as a houseboy for Mr. Theophilus Ugwu. Chidi always remembered when Amadi came home from Onitsha. It was always 2 times a year, Easter and Christmas. Amadi will always bring him and the other siblings bread and biscuits and for his mother and stepmothers he will always bring loads of sewing threads and needles to patch the holes in their wrappers. Chidi also remembered that fateful Tuesday evening when Mr Theophilus and Amadi came home. According to Mr Theophilus, Amadi had stolen his 50 Naira. Chidi did not like the way Mr Theophilus held Amadi by the ear. He also did not like the way Mr Theophilus spoke to his papa but being a young boy at the time what could he do? That night Chidi went to his papa’s hut. Mazi Nduka was sitting on his stool talking to Papa Janet. As soon as he came in Mazi Nduka said, “That’s my son! Growing everyday!” Papa Janet replied, “It must be the pounded yam his mother gives him!” The two men laughed really loudly but Chidi didn’t. “Nnam Kachifo o”(Goodnight my father). In his hut Chidi lay on his raffia mat and thought about Amara. There was something different about her. While other girls talked about marrying rich men who will take them out of the village and buy them expensive laces, Amara talked about going to school and achieving something in life. Chidi admired this in her. He liked the way she spoke with confidence and sometimes authority. He liked the way she always had kind words for him. He remembered the first time she let him hold her hand while they went to Sunday school. It was the best feeling he had ever had. He wanted his stepsister Ekene to be like Amara. Ekene was only 4 but she was sharp. Although she did not go to school she had an eagerness in her to learn which Chidi liked and so whenever he came back from school he would always let her read his “Eze goes to school” book. It was the only book he felt she would be interested in but a part of him felt she was interested in the pictures only. She will always turn to him when she got to page 6 and say “Chidi! Chidi! Eze’s shoe looks like your shoe!” Chidi was determined that Ekene will never grow up to be like the girls in the village who only spoke about marrying rich men.

Sunset Across the Niger (About)

2012-07-08T17:00:00.000-07:00

So I just realised, I attempted to write a book once. I was 17, my creative juices were literally all over the place. I was bored and had just 3 close friends. I remember the constraints of my youth. The inability to sneak out like most of my very (and I mean VERY) liberal friends. Some didn't even have to sneak out, their parents were just 'cool'. I don't regret it though. It challenged me to write. Somehow, I found writing serving as an avenue to escape into my own world. A world where I am Queen and what I say goes. I can alter the weather, determine the state of the economy. I am the puppeteer and each character I control with my strings. I play the drums and decide the beat they dance to and when the beat changes. So with major influence from reading Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, I decided to write. Sunset Across The Niger was the title I chose for the 'book'. I've never finished it. In fact, I've only discovered that I somehow over the course of 2 years managed to write nine chapters, but hey I am now done with my degree and have an entire summer to blow before commencing my postgraduate so I guess I can be a bit more constructive this summer and continue the book. For now I have decided to post the already written Nine chapters on my blog. Forgive any grammatical errors or typographical errors. I was young and I think I'll cherish it more with them... Next Post, Chapter 1 Adios <3

I should be typing this essay now..........I'll procastinate instead!

2012-04-19T15:11:00.006-07:00

1.30pm, 12th July 2012, we will all be sat in a Hall, listening to the Vice Chancellor speak about the opportunities available to us in the big bad world! Sometimes when I think about it, I must admit, I shed a tear or two. Hull has been good to me no doubt. From the freshers parties, to the takeaways, to the Library trips and nursing of hangovers in lectures, I must say, this University has offered me the STUDENT LIFE!!

The night before leaving London, I remember my mother offering me advice on how to live in Uni. Difference being, the advice I received from my mother will be condemned by many for being one thing 'THE PLAIN TRUTH', 'BE YOURSELF NG, FIND YOURSELF'. You see, a lot of young Blacks come to university with so many reservations and opinions that they believe should they attempt to explore equals being onboard a one way ticket to Hell! Unfortunately, this has restrained a lot of young people from enjoying the University experience. Whilst some will read this and challenge my opinion, it is worth taking time out and speaking to one or two Nigerian students for example about their University experience. Unfortunately, I fear this will be encompassed of 'Black House Parties', lots of Gossip, and Church.

I embrace my race, I embrace my culture, I embrace my identity but I am not afraid to learn, to integrate, to mix. During my time in University, I have witnessed intended segregation integration in the black community. Although, it is good that we have events that unite us as an ethnicity, as a race, the nature of these events are either religious on one end or extremely secular on the other. I can count on one hand (pardon the slight exagerration) the amount of black students I saw during a talk about race within the Black History Month period for example. However, to say that the clubs are cramped with us is an understatement, to push it, I wouldn't be surprised if the next time I attend one of our 'Afrobeats' parties, the venue is so packed that people are at the risk of falling out.

Pardon me for allowing this article to reek of Pessimism, but I think it is high time that we change our attitudes, especially whislt we are still young. I must acknowledge that like myself, a few of us have refused to conform to the lifestyle of the black University student. A few of us have decided to just be ourselves and unfortunately, this has attracted constant criticism from our own community. I have lost count of the amount of times I have been called an Oreo, or Self Loathing African, or Lesbian or 'Oyinbo'. Bad news for my taggers, I am me and none of these. My refusal to conform does not make me hate my race or culture, it simply allows me to be me.

All the same, I have enjoyed Hull. Regardless of the gist i've heard (i must admit who ever takes the time out to generate the gossip is quite talented), its been fun. I have learned more about my people, about my culture. I have made fantastice friends spread out amongst all cultures I can imagine. I have achieved things i never thought I would. But most importantly, till this moment, I have mastered the Azonto! lol

Ps I could not make up my mind what to rant about......so I just did! Meh!

Shh...

2011-09-25T20:23:00.001-07:00

Bound together by a common bond
Or so I thought after all those shots
Phone Conversations till the sun rose
Minutes burning, Battery dying, yeah we are close

Hay rolls, the green everywhere
Playlist on blast, anticipating you'll soon be here
It flows through my system the potent see through liquid
Bopping from side to side, Vanilla scented, your squeal

Deceptive is the liquid and puff, our laughter
Nothing is too dear with me, all I reveal, my heart
My head tells me its equal but its not
Its always half here half there, what you want never the whole lot

Not just you but everyone perhaps, its me
Trust is earned they say, well I should be loaded
Whispers, stolen seconds, another swing to ignore it
Warm liquid from the setting sun, I lie in my bed

Not now, forever? The same pattern seems to show
Shouldn't care, the path has already been paved
Sunshine, Fall, Rain or Snow
Maybe its best that nothing more should be heard

A Recipe for Success in the Global South Economy Part II

2011-09-10T10:44:00.001-07:00

On the 20th July 2011, I documented my series of thoughts on what method of Political Economy I felt will be best adopted in order guide the Lower Developed Economies of the Global South out of Poverty and guide them towards a much more progressive and integrated market system. Unfortunately I was unable to conclude on what method I felt will be most realistic but seemed to be adapting to a more Classical Political Economy method of thought.

In his book the Wealth of Nations published in 1776, the Father of modern economics Adam Smith argued strongly about the strength of a liberated market. That through a more less interventionist market system (adopted by an economy), a country will be able to create an economy that can avoid market inefficiency and can promote innovation and enterprise whilst creating jobs for its citizens. Prima Facie, I must say I was quite attracted to this system of Political Economy as I strongly believe in a liberal market, solely because a non-availability of Government Interference in an economy simply means that individuals are open to invest within the country and are also open to import goods from other economies which may not necessarily be available in their economy. It means that these countries will be more likely to receive Foreign Direct Investment from other nations through Transnational and Multinational Corporations, in the process creating jobs for the locals whilst developing world class infrastructure (to lure and enable the multinational and transnational corporations be effective in the country)that will benefit both the corporation and the locals. That through Foreign Direct Investment, Universities and Schools can be built to train the local population on skills to gain employment in these corporations and also encourage the locals to in the future set up their own businesses using the skills garnered through professional and academic training. Theoretically, the idea of an economy that adapts this method of Political Economy does seem fantastic and splendid but when applied to a modern day Less Developed Country(from now known as an LDC), the end results can be quite damaging.

Truth is in order for an LDC to apply this system of Political Economy to its economy, it must first make sure that the infrastructure to encourage this sort of system is available. It is at this point that the ideas of Friedrich List must be looked at. List created a system of 'National Innovation' whose doctrine encouraged governments to be selective in industries to support and encourage productivity amongst its citizens. Not to go into too much detail, List drew up 4 stages for the economic development of a nation which I find fascinating.

1. He recognized a system of COMMUNAL LIVING
2. That this system of Communal living will encourage AGRICULTURE
3. Due to the produce from farming there will be need for MANUFACTURING
4.To generate profits, AGRICULTURE + MANUFACTURING = COMMERCE (TRADE)

As simple as it may sound, these 4 stages applied to an LDC today seems for me to be a simple but effective method of pulling LDCs out of poverty. However I must say that it will still be wise for an LDC to borrow from Smith the idea of market liberation to some extent. I believe that a government needs to intervene in that it must encourage its citizens to be productive. It must look within its economy and find the resources that it has that will be of great value on the international market and then be selective (as List encouraged) in supporting these industries financially so that they will be able to produce these goods in mass to be put to trade on the International Market. Its nation will also benefit from this in that these goods (since they are produced locally) will be sold at cheaper rates in the home nation. The Lovechild of the combination of List's and Smith's ideas reminds me of a conversation I had with my father on the train to Hull. I remember him using a Burger and Yam for example. To quote, he said that he felt that the reason why the Nigerian economy was failing him was because he felt that Nigerians have decided to adapt a very unrealistic Western way of living and eating thus increasing the cost of food. The whole conversation was sparked by a statement I made about shockingly discovering that Nigeria imports food. Using the example of a Burger he said to me (to quote) 'When you look at a Burger today you must come to terms with the fact that Burgers have been eaten by the English for centuries, only in different forms. What are the main ingredients of a Burger, Bread and Beef. Rewind the clock back perhaps about 100 years, English people consumed Burgers as Sandwiches and it was affordable for them because the main condiments are found easily in England so it costs them nothing to make it. The reason why you have your modern day McDonald's stlye Burger is simple because the government knowing fully well that Bread and Beef are easily available in the UK, invested in areas that will look into how Bread and Beef can be processed into new types of food for its locals. The same can be seen with Potatoes also easily available in the UK and has also been consumed for years. Now due to research into the different things that can be done with potatoes you have your chips, Crisps, Lasagne, Pies and so on. When you look at Nigeria, you see a system where the government have not invested properly in our own resources to make them attractable to our own people that we now look to the West to copy what they eat and it is costing us a lot of money'. Using Yam as an example, my father explained to me that it is a staple crop found easily in Nigeria and the it will be more sensible if we could look into the different things that can be done with a tuber of Yam and watch and see the results that we will gain from it. Another example he used was Palm Oil and the benefits of the government investing in Industries that will look into the benefits of using Palm Oil for items like Soap and not only as a condiment to cook. I remember laughing when we had this conversation but did not fail to relate it closely to the Ideas of Friedrich List. Borrowing from Smith, should an LDC invest in its resources through government intervention (in pumping money into industries that will conduct this research and process the resources), the final products can be placed on the International Market and draw in a lot of revenue for the market.

I think I will stop at this point to enable myself look at more systems of Political Economy to enable me (by the Grace of the Almighty) write another offering of ideas that can aid an LDC alleviate poverty from its economy but on a leaving note I will like to say, countless times we may say to ourselves that we cannot do anything to improve our home economy but this is untrue. Research into ideas that have worked for other countries must be conducted and analysed and then be discussed amongst ourselves and peers to enlighten the next person on how to make his or her own country or nation better. You may feel you are powerless but do you know the position you may be in come the next 5 years from now? Task yourself and believe!

DELIGHTFUL DAYS IN HELL MOUTH

2011-08-19T06:59:00.000-07:00

I was recently faced with the unfortunate intern task of going to apply for a couple of Visas for my Boss's business associates who were to travel to Nigeria. I remember telling my mother about my little task the night before and her reaction 'Wow that's your entire day gone', CLASSIC. I laughed off her concern but was full unaware of what awaited me at the Embassy (or Hell's Mouth as I like to call it).

Eventually the next day I made sure I was queued up at 7.30 AM in the morning infront of the Embassy and was rather surprised that a lot of people were there (from different parts of the country may I add). As soon as the doors flung open at 9.00AM, and the 'Men in Suits@ had taken their places, operation get rude to every single customer because I wear a suit begun. When my turn came to be seen, I presented the man with the documents that I had been given (whilst wondering why an embassy which has existed for over 30 years doesn't have a reception and why we were made to stand under scaffolding). The man looked at me as If I had committed the worst crime in the world and said in the worst tone ever 'Where is your Payment Acknowledgement slip?'. I admit I did not have the slip but that was simply because I had been sent there on duty and did not know the procedure. Whilst explaining this to him (PS the Business Associates were to travel in 2 days) and querying him on what to do, I was surprised to find out that the arrogant worker had started speaking to someone else and wasn't budged a bit. Luckily a young man (who was Greek) had been to the embassy and was very used to their rudeness simply called me to the side and explained the entire process (I was to log on to the Nigerian Immigration Service Website and apply through a company called SWC Global with a payment of $144. Then I was to print out 2 slips and purchase a £70 Postal Order for 'processing the visa'. I still wonder what the $144.00 is for then?!)

Any hoo I made my way to Charing Cross station and found an Internet Cafe. I must say whoever owns that cafe must love the Embasssy as one of its workers explained to me that they attended to over 100 Nigerians a day who were always needing to print one thing or the other to satisfy the Visa requirements. I made the application and took everything back to Embassy, got my Visa Ticket number and was called to COUNTER 3! The Man behind the counter(who till this moment remains my WORST ENEMY) initially came across as nice until he saw the passports. He then paused and said 'I will grant Mr Nzere's Visa but you need to bring supporting documents for Mr Patel'. I was surprised. Both were British Nationals and I had equal amounts of supporting documents for them, what was this fool up to. I questioned him on why and his response remains one of the most ignorant ill educated responses I have ever heard. "You see, Mr Nzere has a Nigerian surname so I know he has family there but Mr Patel obviously doesn't have roots there so he may decide to abscund. I need prove that he is going there for business purposes". Whilst I am the most Patriotic Nigerian you would ever meet I remember thinking 'WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WILL ABSCUND TO ABIA STATE?!!!!"

In order to avoid arguments I went away to bring supporting documents. I brought back the next morning Mr Patel's Birth Certificate, a Letter from the company he was going to visit in Nigeria, a scanned photocopy of the Passport of the CEO of the Nigerian based company, 4 Utility Bills belonging to Mr Patel (now in my standards, THAT'S A LOT). When called again to counter 3, the Man requested to see Mr Patel's Flight ticket in order for him to grant the Visa for the same time as Mr Nzere. I questioned him on why he needed to see the Flight ticket and he simply responded that for all he knew I could have been lying about the urgency of the Visas. I WAS RAGING!!!!!!!

Somehow, some way I was able to get my Boss to fax me the ticket to show to this pompous waste of human life before the fool decided to grant the visa (possibly urged by my telling him that he was very incompetent.

Unfortunately, the next week I was sent again to process another Visa and once again was sent to this fool. Whilst I had fully prepared myself with a folder of documents as back up, the man decided that I must provide a personal letter of invitation from Nigeria!! I queried him (rather nicely) that he had never asked for such when I had processed the previous visas and why it was different this time (keeping in mind the man involved had to travel to join his colleagues the next day via a night flight) he simply said to me that If I did not provide it he would not grant the visa. Somehow I maintained my calm and went back to the office to get the letter in order to return the next day, pay an express fee and have the visa granted that day.

I finally arrived on D day fully equipped. I approached counter 3 with everything the man smiled and was about to clip on a number to the passport then he looked at me and said 'I WANT A PASSPORT PHOTOGRAPH". I was prepared to kill this man! I asked him why he needed one (KEEPING IN MIND THE VISA OFFICE HAD 5 MINUTES TO CLOSE) reminding him our client was to travel that night. He simply responded it was for recognition purposes. I stated to him that I worked 2 hours by public transport away from the Embassy and that It wasn't practical that I would provide the passport and pleaded if I could have it faxed. He simply refused. I then asked to see his manager and he proceeded to writing a number on a sheet of paper (not knowing that I had somehow crammed the Nigerian Embassy number in my head and knew about its stupid automated service that gets you nowhere). I still took the paper and made sure I asked every staff member for the head or manager they all were rather reluctant to attend to me. Eventually I met a Hausa man with a ginger beard (yup it still makes me laugh) who saw how frustrated I was and promised that If i got the photo's he would personally handle the application but nah I wasn't satisfied. Luckily for me, my Father happens to know the defence advisor so I gave him a ring and he asked me to come directly to his office.

When I proceeded to asking the lousy men at the door how to get to the defence advisor's office, they gave me a look of 'Abeg ho dis babe tink she be?' and had the cheek to lie to me that he wasn't in. I gave him a call again and once he picked handed the phone over to the lousy man. As soon as the man got off the phone he transformed into Prince Charming and offered to walk me to the office himself (TALK ABOUT LIP SERVICE!!). Speaking to the advisor I made sure I aired my views to him on how badly the place sucked (whilst my mind pondered on why the entrance to the area for 'BIG BOYS' in the embassy was rather posh with cushions and an air conditioner but that na Naija na, levels innit lol). His response shocked me, according to him, the embassy has run 2 Orientation excercises for its staff members and apparently they were rude because sometimes 'Nigerians are rude'. I'm sorry but that's a HORRIBLE EXCUSE! I work in customer services and deal with both polite and rude customers every day(I'm Nigerian and we get a lot of Nigerian customers) but that does not permit me to be rude because these people pay for the services my company provides. Any way I made sure that he understood that it was a lame excuse and he decided to accompany me to monitor services there for the rest of the day.

The transformation was magical. Apparently, word had gotten round that I knew the defence advisors and the staff became unncesessarily nice to me when I came back. I just laughed and thought these people were truly insane. All in all i got an apology from the head of the visa service but learned somthing from my experience

For too long, Nigerians have allowed themselves to accept bull off any fellow Nigerian who they feel is in a position of advantage in a suit. The Embassy is there to serve its citizens not to bully them. On each of the 5 days I was there, someone either cried or knelt to beg for a favour from THEIR OWN EMBASSY!!! For me that is very very wrong. I have accepted that I probably cannot personally change things there but have begun a petition of which I aim to get 900 signatories to present to the High Commissioner.

Do me a favour sign the petition. Nigeria House MUST BE REVAMPED and the Image of Nigeria in the UK SAVED!!!!

http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/revamp-the-nigerian-embassy-london.html

We Should Feel Sorry For Mr Starkey

2011-08-15T03:35:00.000-07:00

I must confess, I wasn't necessarily surprised when David Starkey launched a foul horrible attack on what he perceived to be 'Black Culture' on News night last week. Actually I was surprised that he had the courage to say what I firmly believe a lot of people actually support. It was rather interesting to see Mr Starkey claim that should one turn off the the television whilst listening to David Lammy, judging from the voice, one would believe he is White. It was even more shocking to see him suggest to fellow guest Dreda Say Mitchell that she didn't 'sound like them' (Although Miss Mitchell is black)

Mr Starkey's outburst raises a lot of questions I guess on how people group race and culture but for me the ultimate question is: 'What is Black Culture?'. Judging from the way he sounded and from the comments in the Daily Mail(in response to an article supporting Mr Starkey), it seems that Black Culture according to a portion of Society is rude, criminal, flashy and dominated solely by Hip Hop. Therefore the norm in society for those that would think like Mr Starkey is what is white. Mr Starkey in his comment stated that David Lammy MP, 'successful black man' would sound white if one was to listen to his voice, therefore implying that someone who is eloquent and successful is someone who is white and someone who wears flashy oversized clothes and makes gun like gestures perhaps is in a higher chance black.

To be honest Mr Starkey's comment is not very well founded simply because Culture is a WAY OF LIFE. To attach all that is negative to the way of life of the average Black is wrong and ill founded on so many levels. I for instance am a young black woman and do not in any way fit into the category of a black person according to Mr Starkey's or Enoch Powell's dictionary. The culture of my people (Igbo culture) does not promote violence, looting, or even a gang land environment. We have a colorful, peace and fun loving culture that have strong roots in an equal and fair justice system that condemns anything that is unethical. I believe that what Mr Starkey did was avoid accepting that there isn't really a 'black culture' (as blacks in the UK come from different backgrounds) but a culture of violence and disreputable behaviour amongst British youth. The same way he focuses on stereotypes, is the same way I as a black person can turn around and focus on what I see as negative in White society and come to conclusions on that but then I am fortunate to be exposed and educated to know that it is plainly ignorant to do so.

As much as I will anyday and any time openly condemn Mr Starkey's statements, I believe that his outburst calls for the black community to look within itself and try and fix any problems we have. To quote Katt Williams 'If someone has been calling you a crackhead for 10 years then perhaps you just may be a crack head'. Whether we accept it or not it is very true that society does see a lot of problems in the black community and we must accept that to some extent we do need to clean up our act. Yes it is true that rap today does promote violence, Yes it is true that there is a big problem with gang culture in the black society. Yes it is true that a lot of black fathers do walk out on their family thus causing problems with some of the children in the future. These are just a small proportion of problems that we face in our community and the truth is that if we want the White or Asian man to stop looking at us with disregard and associating all things bad with us then we must work towards educating our children more. We must be better role models towards the younger generations. Parents must come down harder on their children and monitor their progress both socially and academically. Fathers must be there to be positive role models to their sons. Truth is that I could go on and on and on but in order to avoid going off the point I should just summarise my thoughts by saying

As much as David Starkey is a bumbling fool for making such an ill founded and racist statement, we must accept that there are problems in the black community that must be fixed in order for us to prevent more fools like Starkey coming out and making useless and xenophobic statements. Enoch Powell WAS NOT RIGHT AND THE RIVERS OF BLOOD IS THE BIGGEST PILE OF BULLSHIT I HAVE EVER READ...............YOU MIGHT WANT TO HAVE A LITTLE READ OF IT TOO BELOW

'The supreme function of statesmanship is to provide against preventable evils. In seeking to do so, it encounters obstacles which are deeply rooted in human nature.
One is that by the very order of things such evils are not demonstrable until they have occurred: at each stage in their onset there is room for doubt and for dispute whether they be real or imaginary. By the same token, they attract little attention in comparison with current troubles, which are both indisputable and pressing: whence the besetting temptation of all politics to concern itself with the immediate present at the expense of the future.
Above all, people are disposed to mistake predicting troubles for causing troubles and even for desiring troubles: "If only," they love to think, "if only people wouldn't talk about it, it probably wouldn't happen."
Perhaps this habit goes back to the primitive belief that the word and the thing, the name and the object, are identical.
At all events, the discussion of future grave but, with effort now, avoidable evils is the most unpopular and at the same time the most necessary occupation for the politician. Those who knowingly shirk it deserve, and not infrequently receive, the curses of those who come after.
A week or two ago I fell into conversation with a constituent, a middle-aged, quite ordinary working man employed in one of our nationalised industries.
After a sentence or two about the weather, he suddenly said: "If I had the money to go, I wouldn't stay in this country." I made some deprecatory reply to the effect that even this government wouldn't last for ever; but he took no notice, and continued: "I have three children, all of them been through grammar school and two of them married now, with family. I shan't be satisfied till I have seen them all settled overseas. In this country in 15 or 20 years' time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man."
I can already hear the chorus of execration. How dare I say such a horrible thing? How dare I stir up trouble and inflame feelings by repeating such a conversation?
The answer is that I do not have the right not to do so. Here is a decent, ordinary fellow Englishman, who in broad daylight in my own town says to me, his Member of Parliament, that his country will not be worth living in for his children.
I simply do not have the right to shrug my shoulders and think about something else. What he is saying, thousands and hundreds of thousands are saying and thinking - not throughout Great Britain, perhaps, but in the areas that are already undergoing the total transformation to which there is no parallel in a thousand years of English history.
In 15 or 20 years, on present trends, there will be in this country three and a half million Commonwealth immigrants and their descendants. That is not my figure. That is the official figure given to parliament by the spokesman of the Registrar General's Office.
There is no comparable official figure for the year 2000, but it must be in the region of five to seven million, approximately one-tenth of the whole population, and approaching that of Greater London. Of course, it will not be evenly distributed from Margate to Aberystwyth and from Penzance to Aberdeen. Whole areas, towns and parts of towns across England will be occupied by sections of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population.
As time goes on, the proportion of this total who are immigrant descendants, those born in England, who arrived here by exactly the same route as the rest of us, will rapidly increase. Already by 1985 the native-born would constitute the majority. It is this fact which creates the extreme urgency of action now, of just that kind of action which is hardest for politicians to take, action where the difficulties lie in the present but the evils to be prevented or minimised lie several parliaments ahead.
The natural and rational first question with a nation confronted by such a prospect is to ask: "How can its dimensions be reduced?" Granted it be not wholly preventable, can it be limited, bearing in mind that numbers are of the essence: the significance and consequences of an alien element introduced into a country or population are profoundly different according to whether that element is 1 per cent or 10 per cent.
The answers to the simple and rational question are equally simple and rational: by stopping, or virtually stopping, further inflow, and by promoting the maximum outflow. Both answers are part of the official policy of the Conservative Party.
It almost passes belief that at this moment 20 or 30 additional immigrant children are arriving from overseas in Wolverhampton alone every week - and that means 15 or 20 additional families a decade or two hence. Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad. We must be mad, literally mad, as a nation to be permitting the annual inflow of some 50,000 dependants, who are for the most part the material of the future growth of the immigrant-descended population. It is like watching a nation busily engaged in heaping up its own funeral pyre. So insane are we that we actually permit unmarried persons to immigrate for the purpose of founding a family with spouses and fiancés whom they have never seen.
Let no one suppose that the flow of dependants will automatically tail off. On the contrary, even at the present admission rate of only 5,000 a year by voucher, there is sufficient for a further 25,000 dependants per annum ad infinitum, without taking into account the huge reservoir of existing relations in this country - and I am making no allowance at all for fraudulent entry. In these circumstances nothing will suffice but that the total inflow for settlement should be reduced at once to negligible proportions, and that the necessary legislative and administrative measures be taken without delay.
I stress the words "for settlement." This has nothing to do with the entry of Commonwealth citizens, any more than of aliens, into this country, for the purposes of study or of improving their qualifications, like (for instance) the Commonwealth doctors who, to the advantage of their own countries, have enabled our hospital service to be expanded faster than would otherwise have been possible. They are not, and never have been, immigrants.
I turn to re-emigration. If all immigration ended tomorrow, the rate of growth of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population would be substantially reduced, but the prospective size of this element in the population would still leave the basic character of the national danger unaffected. This can only be tackled while a considerable proportion of the total still comprises persons who entered this country during the last ten years or so.
Hence the urgency of implementing now the second element of the Conservative Party's policy: the encouragement of re-emigration.
Nobody can make an estimate of the numbers which, with generous assistance, would choose either to return to their countries of origin or to go to other countries anxious to receive the manpower and the skills they represent.
Nobody knows, because no such policy has yet been attempted. I can only say that, even at present, immigrants in my own constituency from time to time come to me, asking if I can find them assistance to return home. If such a policy were adopted and pursued with the determination which the gravity of the alternative justifies, the resultant outflow could appreciably alter the prospects.
The third element of the Conservative Party's policy is that all who are in this country as citizens should be equal before the law and that there shall be no discrimination or difference made between them by public authority. As Mr Heath has put it we will have no "first-class citizens" and "second-class citizens." This does not mean that the immigrant and his descendent should be elevated into a privileged or special class or that the citizen should be denied his right to discriminate in the management of his own affairs between one fellow-citizen and another or that he should be subjected to imposition as to his reasons and motive for behaving in one lawful manner rather than another.
There could be no grosser misconception of the realities than is entertained by those who vociferously demand legislation as they call it "against discrimination", whether they be leader-writers of the same kidney and sometimes on the same newspapers which year after year in the 1930s tried to blind this country to the rising peril which confronted it, or archbishops who live in palaces, faring delicately with the bedclothes pulled right up over their heads. They have got it exactly and diametrically wrong.
The discrimination and the deprivation, the sense of alarm and of resentment, lies not with the immigrant population but with those among whom they have come and are still coming.
This is why to enact legislation of the kind before parliament at this moment is to risk throwing a match on to gunpowder. The kindest thing that can be said about those who propose and support it is that they know not what they do.
Nothing is more misleading than comparison between the Commonwealth immigrant in Britain and the American Negro. The Negro population of the United States, which was already in existence before the United States became a nation, started literally as slaves and were later given the franchise and other rights of citizenship, to the exercise of which they have only gradually and still incompletely come. The Commonwealth immigrant came to Britain as a full citizen, to a country which knew no discrimination between one citizen and another, and he entered instantly into the possession of the rights of every citizen, from the vote to free treatment under the National Health Service.
Whatever drawbacks attended the immigrants arose not from the law or from public policy or from administration, but from those personal circumstances and accidents which cause, and always will cause, the fortunes and experience of one man to be different from another's.
But while, to the immigrant, entry to this country was admission to privileges and opportunities eagerly sought, the impact upon the existing population was very different. For reasons which they could not comprehend, and in pursuance of a decision by default, on which they were never consulted, they found themselves made strangers in their own country.
They found their wives unable to obtain hospital beds in childbirth, their children unable to obtain school places, their homes and neighbourhoods changed beyond recognition, their plans and prospects for the future defeated; at work they found that employers hesitated to apply to the immigrant worker the standards of discipline and competence required of the native-born worker; they began to hear, as time went by, more and more voices which told them that they were now the unwanted. They now learn that a one-way privilege is to be established by act of parliament; a law which cannot, and is not intended to, operate to protect them or redress their grievances is to be enacted to give the stranger, the disgruntled and the agent-provocateur the power to pillory them for their private actions.
In the hundreds upon hundreds of letters I received when I last spoke on this subject two or three months ago, there was one striking feature which was largely new and which I find ominous. All Members of Parliament are used to the typical anonymous correspondent; but what surprised and alarmed me was the high proportion of ordinary, decent, sensible people, writing a rational and often well-educated letter, who believed that they had to omit their address because it was dangerous to have committed themselves to paper to a Member of Parliament agreeing with the views I had expressed, and that they would risk penalties or reprisals if they were known to have done so. The sense of being a persecuted minority which is growing among ordinary English people in the areas of the country which are affected is something that those without direct experience can hardly imagine.
I am going to allow just one of those hundreds of people to speak for me:
“Eight years ago in a respectable street in Wolverhampton a house was sold to a Negro. Now only one white (a woman old-age pensioner) lives there. This is her story. She lost her husband and both her sons in the war. So she turned her seven-roomed house, her only asset, into a boarding house. She worked hard and did well, paid off her mortgage and began to put something by for her old age. Then the immigrants moved in. With growing fear, she saw one house after another taken over. The quiet street became a place of noise and confusion. Regretfully, her white tenants moved out.
“The day after the last one left, she was awakened at 7am by two Negroes who wanted to use her 'phone to contact their employer. When she refused, as she would have refused any stranger at such an hour, she was abused and feared she would have been attacked but for the chain on her door. Immigrant families have tried to rent rooms in her house, but she always refused. Her little store of money went, and after paying rates, she has less than £2 per week. “She went to apply for a rate reduction and was seen by a young girl, who on hearing she had a seven-roomed house, suggested she should let part of it. When she said the only people she could get were Negroes, the girl said, "Racial prejudice won't get you anywhere in this country." So she went home.
“The telephone is her lifeline. Her family pay the bill, and help her out as best they can. Immigrants have offered to buy her house - at a price which the prospective landlord would be able to recover from his tenants in weeks, or at most a few months. She is becoming afraid to go out. Windows are broken. She finds excreta pushed through her letter box. When she goes to the shops, she is followed by children, charming, wide-grinning piccaninnies. They cannot speak English, but one word they know. "Racialist," they chant. When the new Race Relations Bill is passed, this woman is convinced she will go to prison. And is she so wrong? I begin to wonder.”
The other dangerous delusion from which those who are wilfully or otherwise blind to realities suffer, is summed up in the word "integration." To be integrated into a population means to become for all practical purposes indistinguishable from its other members.
Now, at all times, where there are marked physical differences, especially of colour, integration is difficult though, over a period, not impossible. There are among the Commonwealth immigrants who have come to live here in the last fifteen years or so, many thousands whose wish and purpose is to be integrated and whose every thought and endeavour is bent in that direction.
But to imagine that such a thing enters the heads of a great and growing majority of immigrants and their descendants is a ludicrous misconception, and a dangerous one.
We are on the verge here of a change. Hitherto it has been force of circumstance and of background which has rendered the very idea of integration inaccessible to the greater part of the immigrant population - that they never conceived or intended such a thing, and that their numbers and physical concentration meant the pressures towards integration which normally bear upon any small minority did not operate.
Now we are seeing the growth of positive forces acting against integration, of vested interests in the preservation and sharpening of racial and religious differences, with a view to the exercise of actual domination, first over fellow-immigrants and then over the rest of the population. The cloud no bigger than a man's hand, that can so rapidly overcast the sky, has been visible recently in Wolverhampton and has shown signs of spreading quickly. The words I am about to use, verbatim as they appeared in the local press on 17 February, are not mine, but those of a Labour Member of Parliament who is a minister in the present government:
'The Sikh communities' campaign to maintain customs inappropriate in Britain is much to be regretted. Working in Britain, particularly in the public services, they should be prepared to accept the terms and conditions of their employment. To claim special communal rights (or should one say rites?) leads to a dangerous fragmentation within society. This communalism is a canker; whether practised by one colour or another it is to be strongly condemned.'
All credit to John Stonehouse for having had the insight to perceive that, and the courage to say it.
For these dangerous and divisive elements the legislation proposed in the Race Relations Bill is the very pabulum they need to flourish. Here is the means of showing that the immigrant communities can organise to consolidate their members, to agitate and campaign against their fellow citizens, and to overawe and dominate the rest with the legal weapons which the ignorant and the ill-informed have provided. As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see "the River Tiber foaming with much blood."
That tragic and intractable phenomenon which we watch with horror on the other side of the Atlantic but which there is interwoven with the history and existence of the States itself, is coming upon us here by our own volition and our own neglect. Indeed, it has all but come. In numerical terms, it will be of American proportions long before the end of the century.
Only resolute and urgent action will avert it even now. Whether there will be the public will to demand and obtain that action, I do not know. All I know is that to see, and not to speak, would be the great betrayal.'

Right back to having a brilliant day :)

Growing Up

2011-08-05T07:32:00.000-07:00

A Recipe for success in the Global South Economy

2011-07-20T14:56:00.000-07:00

It has never been hidden that wealth is unequally distributed in the society that we all live in but looking at it from the wider prospect, wealth on a global scale is also unequally distributed. It seems that the gap between the Global North and Global South seems to widen with the North getting richer and the South getting poorer. For example, Multinational Companies which are great sources of attracting Foreign Direct Investment to developing or developed nations are heavily concentrated in the Global North with only a few appearances being made in the south e.g. within the African continent. Another example is seen in the exchange rate for currencies in countries that are developing. Currencies within the Northern hemisphere have greater value than their Southern counterparts. I could go on with a list of evidence showing the growing gap between both hemispheres but that means i'd be here for a long time!

Due to a module I took up in my 2nd year of University, I've been inspired to do a lot of thinking concerning the best way for Developing countries to strengthen their economies rapidly. With evidence of growth in Export Orientated Economies such as the 1960s Taiwan and South Korea and failure in the Import Substituting Economies of 1960s Brazil and Mexico; it's rather confusing to come up with what would be an 'ideal' system of political economy to act as a catalyst for growth in the Global South region. Honestly, I've never been a very keen believer in the doctrine of 'sharing wealth' or any other form of socialist propaganda. Rather I believe more in the system of Fiscal Prudence and wealth creation as it stimulates the economy and encourages Business and Enterprise. One may try and slate my argument by stating that such a system will undermine the working class. My response........NONSENSE! If for anything, such a system moves the working class to a more stable middle class level but i'd rather not go into that argument now.

Anyhooo, So i've decided that on developing the Global south, Governments in Less Developed Nations should adopt the Economic Theory of Classical Political Economists such as Adam Smith or Structuralists Methods such as that of Friedrich List (whose Ideas i admire but I do not believe would be able to work in an economy that is not fully ridden off of Corrupt Officials). Investment in the citizens through training and education is vital to having a productive workforce. A system of compulsive education up until secondary level must be laid down with the individual having the choice to go down the path of further education or training (e.g. Apprenticeships) being provided upon completion of secondary education.

Secondly, I believe that a healthy nation is a productive nation. The Millennium Development Goals signed in September 2000 recognizes the need for the improvement of healthcare in a lot of nations. Investment in Research in medicine should be a government's priority. Every individual is entitled to Healthcare even though it is a valid argument that the provision of free health care to all is rather on the expensive side. However in developing nations, the turnout of profit from their resources such as Oil (aka Nigeria) is a so enormous that the government CAN afford to invest in a system that provides free basic healthcare for its citizens whilst it actively funds research in newer effective methods of treating illnesses.

Thirdly, a system of Fiscal Prudence. Basically the idea that one reaps what one sows. Governments in developed nations have been known to be selective in industry that they support that will encourage the country's economy to grow rapidly and to e honest this is an old trick that I believe dies hard. Selective but wise investment by Governments could be a key to unlocking development in Less Developed nations. For example, in my home country Nigeria, I believe that the dependence on Oil is a major pullback in the growth of the economy. I was shocked to read that in a country that is blessed with fertile land, we still IMPORT FOOD! I remember being taught in primary school about Cash Crops such as Cocoa, Peanuts, Palm Oil and today I honestly wonder if the Cash resource being taught is OIL. Should the government invest properly and develop a sensible Agricultural Policy that embraces modern and effective farming methods then truth be told the economy is bound to grow.

I also believe in Laws governing the workings of Multinational Corporations within a country. A multinational country moves to a host nation because it is business wise for them and obviously guarantees them cheaper production costs. However in return these companies must abide to rules that ensure that those that work for the company are treated fairly. For example employment laws must be upheld; ensuring workers are not taken advantage of in terms of wages, working hours, working conditions etc. Also Multinationals should be encourages in actually investing in their host nation as they in reality make more money than the GDP of the host nations in Southern Hemisphere economies. Investment in infrastructure and human innovation should be encouraged and perhaps could be drafted into a contract of the terms of which a Multinational can come into a host nation. The host nation in return should perhaps be able to provide credible security and play its role in providing durable infrastructure to at least attract Foreign Direct Investment into their nations via Multinationals

Well that's all I can come up with for now but I believe I should be able to complete this later

Bad Day? Bad Life

2011-07-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

Car parked, Two Piece Suit
Sweat pouring down, Busy Street
In you go, out with a bag,
A hit, Items fall, Eggs cracked

Stressed, Cigarettes and a hiss
It’s blazing hot and I see you’re pissed
Seat on the pavement, I’m behind you,
Al fresco with this sandwich, its tastes good

You turn, a smile I ask how you are
“Bad day at work, don’t feel like I’m going far,
I work all day without a decent break
Not enough holidays or time off for Christ’s sake!”

Another puff of the stick, yes get your temporary high
Life’s a bitch, we live it and only God knows why
Tell me more ‘bout your day
Your anger seems to be making my day

“The pay is crap, can’t do much ‘cause it takes the piss
With it, I can only eat, join the gym and play some tennis
Fuel Prices rising, I don’t know if I can keep my car
Struggling with the mortgage, I’m making fewer visits to my local bar.
Anyway, I’m leaving now have a nice day”

You get up; I see your designer belt
This heart to heart we’ve shared is definitely not heartfelt
Walk to the car I wonder, “did this fool ask about my day?”
Talk ‘bout yourself don’t care what I might have had to say.
Key’s in the keyhole, the turn, Ignition, You’re off
My bed’s made, “This Park should be quiet tonight”
My dinner would be that lady’s left over Chinese
Perhaps these eighty pence can buy some drinks.
“Park warden better not work tonight, or it’s under the bridge again
He thought he’d had a bad day, he’s seen me,
He’ll be thinking again.”

The Adultress

2011-07-10T21:52:00.001-07:00

They called her the Adultress
Said she lived to impress
The lives of other men but him
His heart loving, her eyes dim

Her affairs, she made no secret
His ring, she threw in a shit pit
His love she claimed was public
Behind closed doors, he was a sick pig

Foundation and eyeliner coated
Her face blank, you didn't know it was wounded
Her weakness, her figure, pretty slim
Couldn’t fight back, used her beauty to hurt him

But a lady never speaks of her antics
Society does, Judges her, people speak
Of her wounds they kept quiet, he was right
They'd claim to hit her. She hurt him out of spite

His many women, they never judged
His seed in different homes, they accepted
Illnesses contracted, they treated
The wounds he inflicted on her they ignored

Now she's found another man
He won't hurt her has better plans
Her face he'll kiss, her wounds he'll dress
Yet you'll still call her an adulteress

The London Diaries......Day 1

2011-07-07T18:38:00.001-07:00

I love London. I can't help it. No matter how much I may try to get away from it, I love London. Today, I decided that I will make the most out of my mum's oyster card. With Zone 1 to 6 fully loaded, there was nothing stopping me. Making sure that my Phone battery was fully loaded and my headphones were working normally, I put on my walking shoes and stepped out of my house hoping to cover as much as I could.

Getting on the Route 56 from Lea Bridge Road towards Clapton, I could not help but begin to think of many ways in which to write to my Local MP to conceive a plan on banning school children from speaking on the bus. Even turning up 'Testing Microphone' (why I love that song till this day I do not know) to the loudest and gazing hard out of the windows, I could still hear the little girls speaking about their 'boyfriends' and the little boys talking about their latest 'creps'

Delighted, I got to Clapton and got off and then boarded the bus 253 heading towards Euston station. What followed for the rest of this journey was what I like to call 'The Race Transition'. Don't judge me but If you live in Hackney and have every boarded the 253 to Euston or boarded the Route 73 to Victoria you must agree with me that as the bus comes out of certain areas the 'hue' of the people in the bus changes. I've always wanted to make a short film on this but let me put it this way...Popsy doesn't want to invest in a camera and I'm saving up for holiday! Back to the point, I actually enjoyed this journey as I had to take this bus to Secondary school every day till i finished my GCSEs. Gazing out of the window I couldn't help but notice how much I had missed and how much had changed since I left London. The new buildings springing up in Manor House, how Finsbury Park was looking rather quiet and less congested, the missing KFC in Fonthill Road; I was shocked. Approaching Camden I saw things were still the same. Camden was still its urban dream and my 99P shop was still standing. The goths were still alive lol! As we pulled up to Euston I was utterly shocked. New shops had sprung up where I used to sit and just chill with my friends after school and yes Krispy Kreme had done it. They had finally put the Cornish Pastry shop out of business!! I grabbed a donut though :)

Then I decided to walk to Kings Cross. The walk from Euston to Kings Cross is short and beautiful. London captures you in its metropolitan beauty just in a 5 minute walk. Then I saw the hotel that has been built and Saint Pancras and thought......How much will they charge? I laughed, got on the bus 73 and made my way to Oxford Circus.

I wont even bother describing the Oxford Circus journey. I'll just propose to the Mayor if he or she ever gets to read this blog; 'BORIS IF YOU ARE STILL MAYOR WHEN YOU READ THIS, MAKE OXFORD CIRCUS A PEDESTRIAN ONLY ZONE!' Right Rage over, back to loveliness :)

I then decided to attend the premiere of the Harry Potter movie. Well I wouldn't say attend. Simply because I stood, didn't see any celebrities and thought ' I don't really like Harry Potter as a film or novel so let me not disprespect myself by standing with these fans'. So i decided to walk through the square and wandered for whatever reason in a park that led me to the front of Buckingham Palace. I stood there just thinking 'Is her Royal Highness in there? What's she up to? Maybe she'll look out of her window and see me' Then reality caught up with me and I moved lol next stop Chinatown. Love it Love it Love it!! Got myself a nice little boxed noodle take away and walked into Leicester square (or the Love square). It holds a lot of memories for me as I fell in love in Leicester square. Cheesy I know but hey a girl can't help it. Wandered round the square for a while and then wandered in and out of Soho with immediate effect lol.

Finally I got on the Bus 38 which is no longer bendy :( sad times for fare skippers LOL. A rather peaceful journey apart from the couple infront of me that decided to profess their love by snogging their faces off for the rest of my journey. Yup thats another thing you might want to consider banning Boris lol

All in all It was a agood day. Didn't cover as much as I wanted to but hopefully mummy dearest will leave her oyster card on the desk again and I shall continue to explore London in all its beauty!!

HEINZ

2011-07-07T06:32:00.001-07:00

HEINZ
There is a striking similarity between a human and a can of baked beans
That is that we both expire; however a can of baked beans is luckier
Its expiration date is known to all
The owner and the tin itself know one day, it will be consumed

The can of baked beans serves its purpose in life
Which is to remain in the tin until the day it is consumed
All cans, regardless of where they are sold or their make
They all serve this purpose and serve it well

The Human however has its own purpose in life
That purpose is to live! Just live until that date comes close
How many humans do this is a question I ask myself as I write now
How many, my answer is FEW!

We spend our lives planning, We spend our lives judging
We spend our lives hating, We spend our lives loving
We spend our lives saving, We spend our lives spending
We spend our lives fighting, Which sometimes hastens our dying

But we are in a way better than the tin of baked beans
We have the ablilty to think, to breathe, to run
We can walk, we talk, we can achieve
Yet we sometimes forget to just live!!

So tonight I've made a decision
That I will live for no one and I will die for no one
That when I plan, I'll not forget to live
That when I frown, I'll remember to smile
That when my expiration comes, I'll smile and say:
I beat you to it Heinz!!!

YOU

2011-07-07T06:24:00.000-07:00

YOU
You’ve picked the perfect time to drive me up the wall
Less than a thousand miles between us, but I can’t even call
Sometimes I think about the times I made you laugh
Then I find myself wanting to see you smile

Then like a flash it hits me
Maybe we aren’t meant to be
Damn I wish I could get you outta my head
You’re like my bug, my drug the thing that’ll leave me dead

Now I wish that I could hold you close tonight
Did I tell you I dreamt of you and it all was bright?
You were the star that brought me outta the dark
On my cheek you planted that kiss; oh boy it felt like we had a spark

I wish you felt what I feel, I sometimes think you do
My back turned to you I feel the warmth of your lips on my neck
Then I pull you closer our fingers entwined the world seems perfect
Pure silence but I can feel each heart beat

Shall I tell you I love you, shall I keep it to myself
In my dreams it’s all perfect yet it seems so close and real when I’m with you
Every second treasured, every hug loved I want more of you
Maybe I will maybe I wouldn’t, internally you remain
Ever so close to me, ever so close to me

And then you came along.......

2011-07-04T17:51:00.000-07:00

I've never been one to document my love life but for whatever reason at the moment I feel perhaps I should just type. At 21 I don't feel I am qualified to recite whole 'Been there, Done that' line but for the most of what I've experienced from Love and Relationships my reaction always remains Wow.

Sometimes, maybe when I'm on a bus or a train and that Mary J Blige song comes on, I begin to think and compare and then curse a bit then smile and eventually just change the track. It's funny I guess when one sits to think about the people that have caused the heart to skip a beat. The people that we could never imagine being apart from. The people that we wish will just one day reciprocate that feeling. The people that we wish will stop and think 'Why am I not with you?'. Its amazing when you think about the power that we posses as humans. The ability to crush another just from deciding not to be with them. The ability we have to put a smile on one's face. Love they say is beautiful. Personally I don't know If i'll say its all nice and dandy. Truth is Love is bitter-sweet. Take or leave.

But yeah, I've been in love. For while it lasted it was amazing (well the good times). The hard part isn't necessarily being in love, I believe it is departing from it. Departing from the knowledge that you have a bond with someone which you perhaps once thought was unbreakable. Stage 2 after departure, the ability to bring yourself out of heartbreak hotel and getting back into the real world. That part I think is funny. For me perhaps for 5 months I was a Man Hater. It's the one time that Kelis's 'I hate you so much right now' becomes an anthem to you. You find that the likes of Beyonce, Mary J Blige, Jennifer Hudson, Whitney Houston become the most played songs. But then after a while you snap out of it. You tell yourself, yes I am me again. I have moved on. I won't let anyone trample on me again and for a while yes this is the plan and you stick to it.

You progress in this plan, you throw yourself into your work disregarding any other being being overly affectionate towards you. You work hard at building back your confidence and perhaps taking it to an even higher level. You change your wardrobe, you (if you are like me) write poetry about how much you feel better about yourself and then you meet HIM. Yup that sucker that just has to be good looking and throws you the 'I like you a lot line' Then you have a dilemma. Shall I? Is it worth it? Am i ready for another cycle of love and tears (because at this point you've perhaps become slightly pessimistic towards the idea of relationships lasting long) Well I have to stop here and figure out the answer.............

xxx

Next Stop is....

2011-07-04T14:55:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is Ngozi Medani. I am a Final Year Law Student. I am a girl. I am black. Yup intro's done. By July next year I will be an LLB Law with Politics graduate. I remember vividly before entering the University reading an article by the former Justic Minister Jack Straw in the Daily Mail (Yup i kick myself for reading the Daily Mail!) with the headline 'There are too many Lawyers in the UK'. I have also come across further articles complaining about the scarcity of Jobs in the Legal Sector. As a Law student this is very worrying as I amongst the hundreds of thousands of Law students will hope to get a job upon qualifying.
I understand that we are encouraged to broaden our horizons therefore apply to other sectors of employment but the question remains: Are there desirable jobs for us students that will not be graduating from so called 'Russell Group' Universities? The answer is rather unclear to me. It seems that the companies we seem to desire to be employer will first consider the top University graduates and then holders of 1st class degrees before the average 2.1 non Russell Group Graduate is considered for employment. These thoughts have inspired me to draft a sort of bail out plan should I ever find myself in competition from fellow 'Chosen' Students:

1) LEAVE THE COUNRTY ASAP: Yup there is a world out there. The UK does have a lot of lawyers and hey there are so many countries that I need to explore and perhaps have my own little effect on their legal system

2) SET UP A BUSINESS!: Innovation, Innovation, Innovation. Self Employment. Become my own Boss. Explore my more creative side and perhaps start up a little business for myself. Funding however could pose a problem but I'm sure there must be one amongst the thousands of quangos that can help out

3) GO BACK INTO EDUCATION: Mum and Dad always say, 'You are never too old to go back to school'. If one degree fails you......Perhaps do another. You might find an industry to be booming, Sit down think about the path to that career and then follow that path

Well those are the 3 plans that I have. What are yours? I'm not an inspirational speaker or writer and neither am I a writer but I hope that through this little post, you can sit down and think, What's the next stop for me after this degree?