This is my personal blog, to assist you in facing personal fears.

Been quite a while.

2018-05-17T23:27:00.000+01:00

Yeah. I know right? There's been a lot that's happened in the time I was away, the biggest event being the loss of my dad. For the first time in my life I felt the true meaning of PAIN. True pain doesn't necessarily have to be pain in the usual sense of the word; on your skin, on / in your head, in your tummy etc. This pain was a dull shattering numbing sensation that left me gasping for air. The grief felt tangible and yet it lived inside me, it hovered over me, it stared me in the eyes when I woke & sat on the bedside stool every night waiting for me to wake up. It'll be 3 years since I lost my dad on June 4th, & finally I can say I'm starting to cope with it. Since then I have lost a few other people as well & as always I withdraw into my cocoon & ponder all the "whys" & "what ifs".

The most recent loss was that of my cousin, Chioma. Such a bubbly woman. Last saw her at my wedding & I still have the video of my bachelor's eve, where she danced the night away. Last spoke to her a week or so before she passed. It all seemed like a dream, till I saw a picture of her body in a casket. Then it hit me, I start to drift again to the feeling of losing my dad.

My dad, my friend......my Gee. Remember all the banter we used to have defending the football teams we supported. Our discussions on politics and the state of the nation. Our analysis of movies and

the story lines. Our discussions on my career and decisions I was planning on making. Our discussions ranged from the most important to the most mundane of topics, but in the end, (most importantly) they were discussions with my father. I miss those. Still miss them to this day and would miss them till the day I go.

I remember how after losing him, I prayed and desperately wished to see him again. I still believe we'll see again, & I hold on to my Christian belief now more than ever that there is a life after death, because I love him too much to let go. Its a relationship, a friendship that transcends one realm of existence, one that shouldn't end, that can't end after one lifetime.

For everyone who still has his/her loved ones still around, show them all the love you have to give. When you hug, hug tight and feel the warmth emanate from them. When u have the opportunity to spend time with them, seize it because as cliche as it sounds, life is short.

Love and cherish every moment and create memories, these make our lives on earth worthwhile. For those who have lost dear ones, join me in the belief that we would meet them again after we are done here and continue from where we left off.

Miss you Popsie.

memories

2013-11-24T20:35:00.004+01:00

he jumped around, with his lollipop, eyes glistening with joy. that spark in the eyes that can only be seen in the eyes of an innocent child. The spark that no matter how chaste a man maybe, his eyes just cannot produce. It has to be a child, ........from the innocently ignorant eyes of a child.
he jumped and laughed, and giggled, producing that sharp pitched laugh, the laugh I recognized, reminding me of how my little brother (Drew) used to laugh when we were kids. The laugh that was some place between a scream and a laugh. He doesn't laugh like that anymore, now he's a 45 year old grumpy diabetic, always arguing with everyone else, that he can "take the sugar". The other day, his wife had to sneak into his room while he was at the hospital, to take out his stash of sweets and chocolates. My brother, always been stubborn and hard headed, the little man.
I remember when we were kids, and we went camping with my uncle and cousins, in Sedona, Arizona. I was 8 and he was 6, and my cousins Gerald and Bobby were 10 year old twin boys. I remember that night, it was cold and chilly. On hindsight, my uncle who was in the middle of a divorce wasn't probably the best person to be in charge of us kids in a remote area at the time. He was drunk and passed out in his tent, and so was I (not the drunk part though - lol). I had a busy day earlier, going through the woods to fetch sticks and branches we could use to start a fire, as well as trying to live out my 'bush hunter' fantasies I had as a child. Armed with my sling and stones, I spent most of the day hunting birds and little rodents. Obviously I didn't get any, but the thrill was more than enough satisfaction. So at the end of the day, I was understandably tired, and I retired to my tent, where I dozed off almost immediately I hit my camp bed. Only to be awoken by a shrill scream. I woke up to find my tent was on fire, I was dazed and confused. I could hear my cousins trying to wake my uncle up, and I was still confused as to what to do. Then I heard the scream again and recognized it as my brother's voice, and then as I turned to look in the direction of the scream, I heard the ripping sound that was my brothers knife tearing through my tent. "jump out" he screamed. I did. My uncle was still deep in sleep, my cousins were terrified, my brother was agitated, and I in shock just realized, my little bro saved my life. I eventually found out, Bobby and Gerald were in a fight, and one of them mistakenly kicked a firewood at my tent, and so began the fire.
The screamy laugh of the kid snapped me back to present day, as I lay on the roof, a few 100 meters away from the child as he played with his dad in front of their house. I looked back into my scope, as his head bobbed in and out of target. He reminded me so much of my brother 39 years ago. I promised him that night he saved my life, that I would save his too someday. I sat up, and started dismantling my M24A2 rifle,........I wouldn't do this. I would have to call and cancel this contract, which I have never done in my 20 year career.
as I got up, and started making my way to the exit door on the shopping mall roof, I heard the child's shrill chuckle again, and I murmured to myself: "this one's for you Drew".

what do you want to be when you grow up?

2013-10-21T13:37:00.002+01:00

We must have been asked that question a number of times, at various stages of our growth. My earliest reply to that (that I can remember) is a soldier. What with all the Rambo and Commando movies I grew up on, that was the only logical career for a young 5 or 6 year old 'action movie junkie'. I just had to be a soldier, it wasn't up for debate, as I practiced shooting with my arsenal of toy guns. From the water spraying guns, to the ones with sticky darts propelled out at the pull of the trigger, from the star wars looking ones, to those that glow and sound like an AK-47 sub. Those were the days,.....the days of unbridled dreams, and innocent aspirations. lol, I know innocence and being a soldier shooting people down, shouldn't go in the same sentence, but that's because you reading this and spotting that out,.....you & I are adults. But if a kid reads this, he would jump with glee at the dream of being a soldier, of being like his on-screen heroes. A child with a normal upbringing (which some aren't lucky to have, as children as young as 3 in Syria, now know the meaning of death first hand), doesn't know the meaning of death or it's implications, they see life in all its beauty, as a large playground where there are no boundaries to what you can be and what you can do, and there is no need to harm anyone in the process of achieving your goals. How about the primary school bullies, you may ask? The proportion of bullies to every other child in primary schools, is very much in the minority, and its driven more out of want for more snacks than criminality, how many 8 year old bullies have you asked the question; "what do you want to become when you grow up?" and he answers: "a serial killer or a terrorist, or a rapist".

Now forward to this present day, and compare what we have become to what we had wanted to be as 6 year olds. I would guess about 90% of us turned out to be in careers far fetched from what we wanted to be, for a variety of reasons. Some would have innocently answered as kids, "I want to be the president" or "I want to be an astronaut" or "I want to be a musician" or "I want to be a chocolate factory owner", but with age, we considered most of those 'unrealistic'. But are they truly unrealistic? The older we grow, the more we tend to but boundaries on our aspirations, and question what and what we can / cannot do. We put ourselves on courses that veer off from what we first of all, fell in love with. Sadly many of us are in careers we don't truly love, and some are involved in acts that society frowns upon. Its quick to turn around and blame everyone else, "oh my parents weren't there for me", or "I had no other option". I'm not trying to be judgmental, because it's not in my place to judge anyone, but I'm saying, there is never just one option. To every situation, there are at least 2. If for some reason you that had a dream as a child of being a doctor, and you ended up being an armed robber, or a drug dealer or a terrorist, stop and think about where it all went wrong. Your actions and present career, how does it affect people around you, the people you come face to face with in your daily business, how those it affect your 'clients'? Rewind to how you were as a child, & with such eyes, would you be proud to have a father that does what you do now? Everyone of us was born innocent, but with our various paths, we might have chosen to do good or be bad. As crazy as it sounds, the terrorists of today, were once members of a play group, at school or within a community. Is it too late to change? No, No Time Is Too Late, the best time to get something done is now. Granted, for a 50 year old semi literate armed robber to drop armed robbery and return to his childhood dream of being a doctor isn't exactly the most feasible of career changes, but for a 50 year old armed robber to leave the criminal life, and become (for example) a farmer, or a grocery store owner, isn't so unachievable.

Forget about what others think, forget about what you think, but be most concerned with what the little you would think about who you have become today, and do what you can to make 'him' proud of you today, as well as supporting your children (and/or future children) to pursue their dreams.

Dreams are the only things that remind us we are alive, follow them and encourage the little ones to follow theirs
too.

the beast of Exmoor

2013-10-17T18:16:00.003+01:00

In many places around the world, story's of beast's in the woods and unknown forces haunt local legend, folklore and are sometimes refereed to as urban legends.

The most famous of these myths comes all the way from the highlands of Scotland. Where it is claimed that an unknown beast lurks the dark waters of the loch and is rarely seen by man. There are many claimed sightings of the monster and a few photographs depicting the supposed beast exist.

The earliest and most famous claimed sighting among believers of the beast, comes from the 7th century and a irish monk named Saint Columbia. The story goes that while staying in the land of the Picts, he came across a group of people who were burying a man next to the river Ness. The group told him that while the man was swimming in the river, he was attacked and eventually dragged under the surface. The group tried to rescue him in a boat but without success, the were only able to retrieve is corpse. When Saint Columbia heard this tale, he was in shock and utter disbelief. He then stunned the group by sending one of his followers to swim across the river and try to lure the beast to the surface. It worked and the monster was quickly in pursuit of the man. Upon seeing this, Saint Columbia made the sign of the cross and commanded: "Go no further. Do not touch the man. Go back at once.". The monster stopped dead in its tracks and then fled in terror.

The loch has since been a staple must see landmark in the are and people flock from from all over the world in the hope of getting a glimpse of the loch ness monster.

A bit closer to home is based right here in the heart of the south western tip of the British isles. The myth goes, a wild cat like beast roams the countryside around Exmoor and is often seen at night by many locals.

There are only a few photographs of this supposed animal but many have claimed these to be merely of domestic cat's or simply fakes.

The last known sighting was made by the Carrigan family from the town of Darlington backin April of 2010. They were out walking one day when they stumbled into the beast and managed to snp a few pictures. It was later discovered though that Mr Carrigan had been using Photoshop as well as his new found love of photography to doctor the images.

Real or not, I think you'll agree that folk tales and myth's have a deep place in our society. They help us understand our heritage and provide us with a deeper understanding of who we are and where we come from.

Submitted by Kevin Tuck.

the voices in solitude (poem)

2013-10-08T00:25:00.003+01:00

reach out, and touch it she said,......grasp it
hesitation, apprehension,....uncertainty.
I paused, I retreated, I coiled more into my fetal tranquility
but yet the voice repeated,.....grasp it.

come to me she said,....I wait for you.
I squint my eyes in the direction of the voice,
yet I see no one,.....I strain my ears, & hear no noise.
but yet the voice repeated,.....I wait for you.

She whispered,.......you know you want me.
her breath on the back of my neck so light and warm
blowing through my hair, like breeze through grass in autumn
but yet the voice repeated,.........you want me.

my arms outstretched,......I touched her.
as indeed she rightly said I wanted to
I felt her skin, I sniffed her hair, it felt like dejavu
I smiled,......her hands buried in mine,.......I touched her.

My hands cupped her face,......framing her fragile features
but no sooner had I held her, than she like sand poured through my fingers,
as the present becomes a memory, my smile barely lingers,
my brain like a camera,.......framed her fragile features.

And so I smile to myself,......... a smile sprinkled with bitterness
she was so mysteriously enchanting, but yet so painfully transient
you could have been courteous enough to say your name, I said beneath my breath,
then I heard the final whisper, as she said
.......my name is happiness

sometime in april

2013-05-06T17:51:00.000+01:00

and so it happened, April,.....the month after March. The Easter month,.....lent over, we can laugh again, & be merry again. drink and get drunk,......eat and get full. yes,....we can be merry again.
going through my blackberry contacts, I see a picture on one of my friends' display window. the face is familiar,...."Obum,...who's this guy? wasnt he in your department in uni", to this Obum replied, "he was shot dead a few days ago by armed robbers & I just saw him 2weeks back. he always adviced me to remember to pray". Obum was crying on the other end of this chat.
it shocked me,......and everytime I saw Obum change his display picture to another one of his pics, with the personal message: 'RIP, I cant stop crying', it pricked me, like a little hungry child tugging on his father's shirt, I was trying to be reminded of the grim one,....but as most "tired" parents would, I did my best to brush it off, and stay focused. I did my best to ignore.....I was doing such a good job of it till,.....it hit closer to home. you know that little kid I just spoke about now, tugging on his father's shirt, & was ignored? Lets just say, this time he tore the shirt off my back on a chilly cold night. I couldnt ignore anymore,....death was realer this time, as it snatched an old friend of mine, that just lived 2 streets from my house in Lagos, he was my age,.....he just turned 28, a few days later he was gone. slumped, coma, life support, awake, dead.I didnt know when tears came to my eyes,.....like a pick pulling on guitar string, my tear ducts pinched my eyeballs. the cliche question kept swirling in my head like the pungent smoke from a rotten sacrifice. Polluting my head with questions,........rhetorical questions, that I can never answer. he was so young, so intelligent,.....so cheerful......WHY?!!!! My day was ruined, & my mood was absolutely shattered. I trudged hopelessly on my usual 15mins trek, past telegraph park, to new cross gate, where I board a bus to Uni..... all the time, thinking,....pondering,....and fighting the tears. School seemed useless. why am I going to school? I'm still going to die, innit? "Depression" hounded me non-stop and I wanted to be left alone. Class just seemed like a bad theater show I had to endure. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I couldn't cry......not now,....not here, but on my trek back home I did. ipod earphones plugged into my ears, I belted tracks from eminem (was his favorite artist). I could picture my friend's face, smiling widely and hoping around, as was his usual giddy character. He was indeed a character, a really cheerful lad. Tears streamed down my face, as I knew, this my friend would soon be placed in a box, and then buried in the ground, and covered with dug up sand. It cant be true,.........I'm sure he's still alive, if they try to bury him, he'll hop out of the casket,.......and if he doesn't wake up before they do,......they should leave the grave open cos he might wake up later, and then he'll be able to come out of the grave. Thinking about it now, it sounds crazy,.....but what am I to think? I just cant believe he's dead, it's hard to understand, and its hard to believe.
But I guess, I just have to believe what everyone says.......I have to believe he's dead and gone. I guess its about time, I faced my fears.
Thinking about it now,.........I see no reason to cry, actually I think it should be the other way round. Believing in life after death, and hoping they made it to heaven, I'm sure my friend, as well as the other people we have lost, would be having a laugh when they look at us, trudging on like zombies, besotted with daily challenges and sometimes seeming inextricable problems. Our lives, where we wake every morning, and march to work, to be able to pay mounting bills, and as we get more successful, our paranoia increases in direct proportion, almost always in fear of the unknown. Where we all seek something that seems so mundane, yet so hard to get, something so intangible, yet we want to hold on to forever. We seek happiness and peace so much, but yet we cry for those who have left us and found peace. I'm not saying we should laugh and celebrate losing a loved one, but rather we should mourn and then remember that, they have found happiness, and we are the ones searching. Looking at this from the other end, I'm not suggesting we should commit suicide, in a bid to find happiness, but being that we are still alive, we should make the best of our time here, and stop looking for happiness in the big things, and setting huge targets, but instead take out time, and be happy with the people we care about the most, put that smile on your mom's face, watch that sport's game with your dad, and enjoy the banter, spend time with your family, and build bridges that might have previously been destroyed. Life is too short for bearing grudges.
Drop the pills and drugs you take, to fight your depression, stop pushing the ones you love the most away from you, because your scared to face personal fears. Find happiness and hold on to it. In the words of Ghandi, the two things no one can take away from you without your permission are your will and your peace of mind. Find it and live happy.

amazing grace

2012-12-12T22:44:00.000+01:00

I was desolate, I despaired, I was confused. I turned round, & friends I trusted, threw me to the mercies of the elements. Even when I went out of my way to plead & explain the importance of my request, everyone turned their backs at me, some snickering, some giggling, some scornful, some indifferent. It was a rude shock, but a shock is always necessary. A shock is necessary at times, to jar one to consciousness. A shock makes you realize that what you considered your reality, is actually fantasy built on sentiments. With misfortunes or problems, your friends take of their masks, & you see them for who they are,.......(hmmm,....or is it that you take off your fuzzy glasses, & see who they've always been?)

But then again, hey,....you cant blame anyone. Its their prerogative to assist or not. I can only blame myself, for believing my friends can do for me, what I would have done for them if the tables were turned. I look around forlorn, & from the dark recesses steps forward my friend, who's been there all the while. My friend whom I failed to run to, who I trusted only by word of mouth. He comes to me at this late hour, when all hope is lost. I look to him, with that quizzical look, as if to ask, "can anything be salvaged?" "isnt it already late?" "can anything be done?" & all he says to me is: "trust me". Hmmmmm, what do I stand to lose? So I give it a shot. I trust fully, & take my mind off my issues totally. I've got a short time frame & a huge task, it seems impossible, but i trust. It seems insurmountable, but I trust, & just like the metamorphosis of a caterpillar, I can slowly but gradually see the beautiful butterfly, crack out of the cocoon. I can gradually see my problems, slowly being solved, mysteriously.........miraculously. An issue I have been battling for months, is solved within a few weeks of trusting my good friend. Not only do I get what I ask for, but truly I get even more than what I requested & I'm at a loss for words.

What a friend we have in Jesus. Carrying all our burdens, & making light work of it. Proving time and again, that indeed faith as little as a mustard seed can move the mountains and obstacles in our lives. Faith,........faith is all it takes. True faith, that even when the storm rages, you dont lose hope, you dont lose your cheer, your calm that you've handed over your burdens to the one who is in himself, "ALMIGHTY". He is bigger than what we give him credit for, he is an awesome God & a dear friend.

Amazing grace,.......indeed how sweet the sound.

Oba village, early 1800’s. (fictional excerpt)

2012-12-06T14:39:00.000+01:00

It was very late in the night and all that could be heard was the intermittent thunder & the noise of the rain clattering on the dense vegetation & the muddy soil beneath. It had been raining for most of the day & the intensity of the rainfall hadnt reduced, as claypots (that are usually kept outside during rains, by the village women), were long over-flowing with the rain water.

The weather was cool & chilly & at this time of the night, most of the lamps in the huts had been put out, as everyone had gone to sleep (more-so, by the sleep inducing weather of the night). But one particular hut still had its lantern on, & in it was a woman sitting pensively on the edge of her bed. Aprehension was evident in her eyes and she was oblivious to the fact that the little child sleeping in her laps was precariously perched……& GBAM!!!, the child hit the floor, & both mother & child looked at each other (as both were suddenly awakened to consciousness), then slowly & gradually increasing in decibels, the child let out her cry. “Ndoo o….ndoo nwa m, ndoo” (sorry my child,…sorry); those were the words from the mother in an effort to placate the crying baby. The mother’s name is Enyidiya & the baby she was carrying, Adaora. Enyidiya was arguably the prettiest woman in the whole village of Oba. She was tall, dark & quite slim. She had a narrow waist & a curvy figure, and her eyes were like little cat eyes that lit up when she revealed her lovely dentition (her teeth were in line and her canine teeth only on the upper row, slightly longer than the rest). She was indeed beautiful. Were it not for the laws of the land that the Igwe (king) must have a daughter of royal blood as his first wife, he would have happily taken Enyidiya as his queen. But Enyidiya was far from Royal blood. She was the only daughter (& only child) of her mother Mgborie who was married to the late,Ikwu, (a village palm-wine tapper). Even though Mgborie was in no position to refuse the Igwe the hand of her daughter in marriage, she quietly wished her daughter to marry someone else, that wasn’t polygamous, for Enyidiya was all that she had, & she wanted for her to be loved & well catered for by her husband. She knew that by the next new yam festival, the Igwe would most likely come for Enyidiya’s hand in marriage as his 2^nd wife & she also knew that the current “lolo” (queen of the land), would spite Enyidiya out of jealousy & envy for her ravishing beauty.

Enyidiya was a girl without any airs about her, very humble & dutiful (for it was how her mother raised her) & this furthermore strenghtened the resolve of the mother to find her a suitable husband before the next new yam festival (when the Igwe would choose another wife). She approached the (then) Ezemuo (high priest of the Oracle), explained her situation, made him the offer to marry her daughter & gave him the condition (that he wasn’t to marry another wife). The Ezemuo was a young robust man. He wasn’t anything to talk about in the looks department, but he had a good heart & was revered by the people. Of course he was aware of the beautiful Enyidiya & after hearing Mgborie out, he understood her worries & agreed to her conditions, in the next 9 market days the plans for the marriage were underway & by the 10^th market day, they were married, & so it became that Enyidiya & Ezemuo Okarammadu became man & wife.

On this night though, it wasn’t her history that was heavy on the mind of Adaora, (nor was it her unrelenting rain), but another fear pinched silently at her heart.

tribute or parody?

2012-12-01T11:15:00.000+01:00

hello readers,

i ran across a write up on www.jaguda.com , & I felt the need to share it -

happy reading:

Written By Onyeka Nwelue

On the 5th of October, 2012, four young men were beaten up, disgraced, shamed, kicked, machete, wall-eyed, abused, spat at, cursed, tyres sneaked around them and finally burnt in a certain place called Aluu in Rivers State.

They watched themselves die and people also watched them die. They were called thieves. They were killed. Those of us who were not there in Aluu heard different things. We believed almost all the different stories we heard.

This is November. And a movie is made about this gruesome incident that tore hearts apart, shook homes and emotionally enraged Nigerians and the world at large. Many media freaks and junkies, like FabMagazineOnline termed it a ‘tribute’ to the Aluu4, ‘hoping’ the movie ‘isn’t just another money-making ventures for them but first, to truly pay tribute to the ones who lost their lives in that horrendous incident.’

To insist that making a film on such incident is a ‘tribute’ is at once, foolish and ridiculously stupid, because the motive with which the film is being made is not genuine. Before I go on, I will demand that the film idea be completely banned and that the Nigerian Censors Board never allow this particular movie be released anywhere in this country or elsewhere. My fear is that since this is not going to be a true representation of what happened in Aluu, as many people will see the movie as a True Story, the world will only take One Side of the story. Yet, that is not completely my fear.

A very hardworking Nigerian rapper, DaGrin died. A new scam introduced within Nigerian musicians in the name of ‘tribute.’ I refused to see the movie done on him. Many musicians were busy, cashing on the misfortune of his family. Every single artiste who had recorded a song with him in the past saw an opportunity, a very big one at that, to make themselves popular and famous. There was a total misrepresentation of who DaGrin was. In one of his songs, he had pleaded with people, ‘If I die, make you no cry for me.’ There was no single friend of his or fellow musician who respected his wish. People cried in every angle. They could have controlled the crocodile tears, at least, respecting the honest wish of the young artiste who, obviously, felt he would not stay for long, as there are many people who already know when they would die.

Whether or not it’s a tribute, there is something remarkable about Flavour’s Iwe, for Mc Loph who died in a car accident too. There is a story behind the tribute. Flavour would not have made it without Mc Loph. They both knew themselves very well. Flavour had a couch to crash in whenever he visited Lagos. That was in Mc Loph’s house. Mc Loph had where to sleep and eat at in Enugu and that was in Flavour’s house. There was synergy. There was a deep connection to the song and the emotions could be felt from Flavour’s voice in this song. There is genuineness. He did that song because he lost a friend and brother. There was no other intention. If it is not the Truth, I would not find myself listening to the song over 80 times for a week. At a time, it became the only song I felt. Yet, this was not the case for Dagrin and I am very much afraid that this won’t be the case for Aluu4. For how fast they could come up with a deeply emotional tale about the deaths of four young men who were brutally sent to the great beyond, the entire film crew should be questioned!

Those who paid tribute to Dagrin almost played on our emotional feelings. We were deceived, mocked and completely ridiculed. Many of those artistes didn’t even know who Dagrin was until he died. Many of us, just like me, didn’t know Dagrin until we started hearing different voices singing, forcing us to know about this genius who rapped so well that death took him away. I felt that was very disrespectful and if the dead could rise again, Dagrin will be uttermostly disgusted by the fact that no one respected his wish which was that no one should cry for him. Those who rushed to the studios to record songs in memory of Dagrin, to pay ‘tribute’ to him only did so for their selfish interests. There is completely nothing genuine about their tears they are seen shedding in their music videos and wearing black shirts, singing. This is for commercial reasons. For exploiting Dagrin, a huge scam has just happened.

Making a movie on the Aluu4 is like recreating history; it is like charcoaling the Truth. If there is ever Truth, it will be completely diluted and erased. Only one side of the story will be told. Only a perspective will matter. And those who can’t be heard will be made to be Evil. The point is that such movie will not shed light on anything, but pick remnants of everything pummeled by the media. It is like listening to a blind man describe how his face looks. Would you believe him? Wouldn’t you think he is a joker?

The boys who were killed in Aluu have parents. Have you spoken to them? Have you figured out if you are not going to lampoon on their emotions? Have you done enough to be able to write about each character? How long does it take to shoot a movie, talk more of script? Observing characterization? And working towards a true representation of ideas? Does it matter if it was well balanced? Through whose perspective? Those who believe that making a movie on such sensitive issue is a tribute to the dead, are people with no hearts. They are people who would have burnt those young men themselves. They want to see a remake of how it would have been, had they been there. They are vampires.

I am not suggesting that the story of Aluu can not be represented by fiction. My concern is that the media has decided to term it a ‘tribute’ to the Aluu4. Could this be the foolishness of the media? Or that one of the producers of the film was actually there in Aluu when this thing happened and therefore, has decided to tell us about it? Is he not supposed to be with the court, telling of his own side of the story? If finally this movie is made, the producers should be meant to answer some questions, for whatever is transferred onto the screen serves as evidence to the case in question. Whatever is shown to the world as a true story about that incident, will remain TRUE in the hearts of every Nigerian, therefore, it is risky to play with sentiments and the emotions of people who have close ties with the young men murdered.

If nothing is done about this, more scams will be invented in the name of Aluu, more activists will spring up, seeking for ways to make money out of Aluu. Creativity will be bastardised if there is no true or almost exact representation of what happened in Aluu is not shown to the world through this powerful form of art, cinema.

Or do we want to create Gallows of Scammers?

handling disappointments

2012-11-27T14:43:00.000+01:00

Disappointment: -

Adj: Feeling of being disappointed; Noun:person or
thing that disappoints.

This is a feeling we all experience every once in a while. Some people resort to heavy drinking & drugs
to try and get over that feeling of disappointment. Depending on the degree, some fall into depression.
I often find myself depressed when faced with disappointment. I go deeper and deeper, blaming the
person behind this feeling & then eventually,…..blaming me (I eventually become an enemy of myself).

Example:

I meet this girl, we fall in love & then start dating. All the while, I try to behave myself (keyword: - “try
to” – LOL), & I encouraged her to do same. I believe her stories and trust her wholly. Eventually, I find
out she’s been lying, & has been feeding me with a completely flase story about herself (past,present
and future).

I found out & was hurt,& after the phone convo with her,I dropped the phone,(& picked up an instant
feeling of disappointment).I fell back down to the bed & started to ponder: “ Damn! I am disappointed
@ her. How could she do this? How could she lie this much? How wrong & callous of her?

Next you start to remember the different incidents & stuff that happened during the relationship &
you start to draw your own conclusions:
“Oh, the other time she told me she was @ so-so n so’s place she wasn’t,…or when she told me she
needed this for that, actually she didn’t, when she told me she had this,…she actually didn’t,n rather she
must have had that……& all THIS she did because of THAT (n not LOVE). I AM DISAPPOINTED IN HER!”

Next you start to feel a different level of disppointment. You become disappointed in the relationship:
“This relationship was a huge mistake…..it was a farce,….I was living a lie,all through the relationship.
THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS A HUGE DISAPPOINTMENT.”

Then lastly, you become disappointed in you. How foolish was I to believe her,…..I should have seen the
signs,….I was ignorant,….I have been taken for a fool,….I shouldn’t have done this/that….I should have
been a whole lot smarter,….I was weak,……I AM DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF.”
You mentally beat yourself up & blame yourself for it all. That’s where the depression sets in, (n lets not
pretend here, if there’s any alcohol lying about in the house @ the time, you’ll find yourself having this
incredible urge, to knock back a glass/2,….or 5 or more – LOL) & this is where you find yourself looking
for a quick way out of this all.

With this example, we have seen the different stages of disappointment that can be experienced. We
all know that the term disappointment cannot be restricted to just this case, but as earlier stated,
this is just an example, to show an incidence of a disappointing experience. There are various types of
disappointments & several degrees of pain inflicted by them.

So the next question becomes: “how do you overcome a disappointing situation/event, or a
disappointment altogether.

For me: I do 1 thing 1st. I let it run its course. I try to stay away from alcohol (@ this time – n not that I
avoid it altogether, cos I still take my occasional beer once in a while, but when depressed from
disappointment, I avoid it totally. It’s a sign of weakness (trying to stay away frm the facts by getting
drunk, instead of facing them squarely) & it NEVER (keyword: “NEVER”) solves a problem, it only
deceieves you (in your “blurred” state) into believing that it’s solved, but when you’re sober again, the
problem’s still there.
This explains why alcoholics cant seem to stop drinking when depressed , cos they drink(problem
solved), get sober (realise the problem isnt solved), drink(problem solved), get sober (problem unsolved)
…..etc & it becomes a vicious cycle.

So like I said earlier, I let it run its normal course, & I talk to some “GOOD” friends about it. Once I
notice I’m slightly out of the rut, I trace the root of the problem in the 1 st place. In this case it is LOVE
(In some others, it could be trust,…friendship,business etc). I loved her, & when in love you expect
some things from your partner, one of which is HONESTY. I ask my self, was I honest? (YES) & was
she? (NO), then that’s it. I am not to blame for this, she was the one that did wrong n not me.So
once I absolve myself from the blame,then that’s it. But “if”,…you are actually the one 2 blame,…then
talk 2 urslf, n understand that you have really let someone important to you, down. Try and open
communication,…beg and apologise n make up your mind to avoid EVER hurting the person or any1
else that means an ything to you in such a manner…n once all this is done, the most important thing is
to “FORGIVE YOURSELF!”.

15 mins @ the chapel

2012-11-08T17:06:00.000+01:00

i foot slogged tiredly under the extremely scorching sun. "wow, is today hot or what?" I kept searching around for someone i was meant to see. he was nowhere to be found,.....well, as his shop was directly opposite the church, & putting everything I've been going through into consideration, I decided to make a quick visit to the church chapel.
got in,.......put my mobile phones on silent,.....& knelt down, eyes looking straight at the Blessed Sacrament exposed at the altar.
then i go into my "chat with God" mode:

i start by praying over things & plans I have for the rest of the month & then, predictably.......I start complaining about how rough things have been so far for me. I complain about all the disappointments, all the heartbreaks, the deals that fell though.........as i complain, i look up at a painted picture of Jesus, & put my self in check. So I make it clear, "dear lord, even all through all this, my faith in you hasn't wavered. I still believe totally in you. but all this is making me doubt myself", & he says to me, "that's the point. i want you to see that by yourself, you cant do it. i want you to believe & depend wholly on me. I want to break you & keep you open to me. I want to mold you, & turn you into something holy & pure. "I then think to myself, hmm,.....we easily say "I believe in God", "I have faith in God", "I put my trust in God", but how many times do we "truly" believe in God? How many times do we leave everything to him & say "you know what, even though its looking entirely bleak, I KNOW that everything'll be perfect tomorrow cos God is TOTALLY in charge."

But yet, I still have some more questions. so I ask, "but why let me go through all this? Isn't it a bit too much?"............"why WATCH me go through all this?". He says again to me "that's the point. I am WATCHING you"......."I watch you when you walk away wearily from a failed business meeting, I watch you when you sit at home, worrying your head till you develop a migraine, I have watched you surprised at friends & people you trusted when they back-stab you, I have watched you shed tears on your pillow in the solitude of the night.......but what's most important is I have been WATCHING you". "I never turned my back on you........ I watch you because I LOVE you. A kid could be playing with his pet dog, while the father stands aside & watches. But if the dog starts trying to get outta hand, the father steps in to save his child. I LOVE YOU, & as such, my eyes are always on YOU. So just have faith & believe."

aluu killing

2012-10-13T11:20:00.001+01:00

………and the boys were killed,

Blows…….repetitive,…..constant,…..harder,……….numbing. with every blow, the pain seemed to be dimishing. I see a man, (I think I recognise his face from my many previous visits to the area) & I try to plead my innocence to him…..in my weakness, I try to remonstrate faintly to him. He picks up a huge stick & whacks me in the face with it. My assailant. With this mob descending on us, do we need more aggressors? Really? The situation seems more & more forlorn. I open my eyes and see yet another slap imminent. I can’t as much as lift my hand to block the slap, I’m too weak, decrepit,……..debile. All I can do to defend my self from the slaps is close my eyes. I close my eyes, & wish it all is a dream,…….i’m still hearing the cacophony and the rambunctious crowd, unrelenting & unwavering. I open my eyes & turn to see my friends,…..naked (just like me), being beaten like rag dolls. I see their faces, bloodied……writhing & screaming in pains. Makes me wonder if I’m screaming too. I shut my eyes once again,……it must be a nightmare. This can’t be happening to me……not today. I’m not a criminal,….these people cant be this diabolic,…….is there something I’m not getting? This must be a nightmare that just feels real. I can’t be naked in front of all these people. They can’t be happy, celebrating me & my friends hacked & bludgeoned. My mouth feels full, with my own blood,.…..my throat is dry, so what do I do? Quench my thirst with my own blood? I spit out the blood. I remember how it all started in the wee hours of the day. It all started like a joke, a little skirmish. When we were marched to the king’s place, I felt finally, a voice of reason……..someone to stop this madness that’s been going on. Little did I know that, the madness hadn’t begun. The village king sanctioned jungle justice as commesurate punishment for our “purported crime”. I looked round, & we tried to protest, but slaps & “SHARRAPS” dampened our protests. We were led out naked, still bewildered, still thinking……”what is really going on here”? The looks on their faces & the eagerness to harm us was suggestive of some deep seethed grieviances, that till now, we have been ignorant of. All those side remarks, those times when you greet & they don’t reply, the times you buy stuff from the kiosks, & you feel the countenance of the guy was a bit rude……but you just brush it off. These people,…….have transformed from “rude people” to “aggressive assailants”.

A scream of : “make we burn dem” , greeted by cheers brought me back to reality. I open my eyes to see a bulky guy, putting tyres on the necks of my friends, one after the other. He’s coming closer to me with a tyre,……& some fuel. *pinch me, pinch me, pinch me* this isnt happening. I guess no one thinks about how he’ll die, but even at that, I never thought I’ll go this way. Roasted like a burnt offering, in front of people cheering. This is the stuff of movies. The stuff of demented, twisted, savage movies. The tire is round my neck, I feel the cold fuel on my naked skin, & I shut my self in anticipation for the heat that’s to come. In that split second I shut my eyes, & that split second feels like forever. Everything is slow,….everything flashes before me,….the events of this morning, the events of the year, the events of my life. My happiness & joys, my sadness & sorrows,…….my life. I’m truly a good person, & I don’t deserve to die this way. I really don’t.

I say a little prayer, as I feel the fire raging on my skin. I die amidst screams from my friends, & smells of burning human flesh.

- just my take on what might have been going through the mind of victims of the recent murder of undergraduate students in Aluu village, a community near Uniport.

may their souls rest in peace & may we never lose our lives, or the lives of a loved one to such gruesome callousness.

AMEN.

fictional piece

2012-04-12T23:33:00.001+01:00

the chilling breeze of the night, brushes sharply against my bare shoulders, dried leaves razor-blades through the night. the grass still warm under my shoe-less feet. a shrill noise reverberates through the otherwise quiet night, jerking me into hyper-consciousness, my eyes trying to pierce through the night, as i cower back into my crouched position behind the dried wrinkled log. i look up & i see the stars hiding behind the black clouds. the same black clouds that slowly enshrouds the crescent moon. i'm stuck in this forest, in the middle of no-where & i have no idea on how to get out, as the rain looms.
a streak of white flashes across the sinister skies, & a loud thunder claps (like a samurai sword on a flimsy pinata) bursting the clouds n pouring down the heavy rains. i jump up, out of my place & start running through the unforgiving night. running & falling, scraped & scratched, bruised & battered i trudge through. where i'm heading, i don't know, but i cant stop, not now. i'm thinking, how did i get here, what happened, is this re....... BAM! i hit my head against a sign post. "ouch".........lightning flashes again, the twinkling illumination, barely enough for me to make out what the sign-post says......."THE FEAR PARK - watch out for snakes". watch out for WHAT? how can i make it out of this sh**hole. i look into the skies, exasperated, as the rain pelted my eyes, & then i sense it, through all the clattering rain, i can hear it: slow, meticulous, calculated. i turn back & see it, glistening eyes slowly gliding towards me, & that ominous hissing.
hmmmmmm.......................

SHOW-DOWN.

check the tags, & see if you can match them to the characters they depict in this piece.

straight from the head

2012-03-01T11:46:00.000+01:00

I just stumbled across this picture on facebook, & it did catch my fancy. if you stop to think of it, it actually is true. if you only stop to think @ what people have achieved over the years, you would notice that in fact the line between what is "possible" & "impossible" is actually leaf thin, & with every year it grows even thinner. think back to the the early centuries, when the only mode of transportation was either by feet or on horses (& camels). if some random guy just stood up then, & posited that someday man would find an easier & faster means of transportation with metal contraptions that work on earth's resources.hmm,......i can only imagine all sorts of crazy insinuations they would make of his ideas. but here we are today, everyday pushing the limits of man's abilities. a few centuries ago, man looked at the moon & sun, with amazement & mystery. but now people walk on the moon, & we understand the sun & its purpose.
everyday, we keep pushing the realm of "possibilities", so if you look out there & see people proving "conventional" theories & ideas wrong @ every given opportunity, then why should you believe any less about your ideas? Who says you cant make that dream come true, who says you can't actualize that business plan? Who says it's not going to be viable, it's not going to fly? constructive criticism is always good, but when you receive such criticism, what next? do you sit down & accept failure even before you start? it's just like going to some desert area & wanting to plant crops, & then someone comes in & tells you: "hey bob, that's a desert, so it would be an effort in futility if you try growing your crops on this land", & then you turn back & decide against planting the crops. But think for one second,.......can you actually & truly say, your crops didnt germinate? you didnt even try planting in the 1st instance. so he that told you that the crops cant be grown isn't proven right, & you aren't proven wrong. so that's a decision in cowardice. accepting a failure, even when you havent been proven to fail. it's a desert, that's constructive criticism, & what do you do with such constructive criticism? you dont just throw in the towel & turn back, you go & make arrangement for irrigation & other ways to make sure that "barren" land can be fertile enough for you to grow your crops.
so let's start having more faith & belief in ourselves & our ideas yeah? the only person that matters is you. once you have properly assessed the situation, make sure you have covered all the loopholes pointed out, & then set out to get stuff done. you got only one life to live, why dont you spend it living your dreams, instead of someone else's apprehensions.
dont think "impossible", rather think "I'm Possible".
think about it.
have a great day & weekend ahead folks.

the place

2012-02-29T09:26:00.006+01:00

the place

There were tears in her eyes as she tried to clear a space for him to land. She looked up at him; he seemed so small, so alone, so helpless, forlorn, far up there in the sky. Very soon, it would be too dark to see anything; he would have to come down now, he had to jump off that height.

She looked around her; the landing would not be easy. It was all rocky plains, with sharp edges of stones jutting out in places, there were pieces of wood, cans, broken bottles and other sharp objects lying around; no, the fall would not be easy. She wondered how it could be so beautiful up there and so harsh and rugged just below.

She looked up at him again. He was looking around, unsure of what had happened and why he was the only one standing up there without a means of coming down. She felt so sad, sorry and scared for him. Was it only earlier today that they had come to this place together? It seemed like ages ago when they both walked down to this place full of smiles, full of happiness, full of life, full of dreams, full of …love.

They had come from different places, very far away, to this place that had a heavenly spot up in the sky, the most beautiful and perfect piece of nature just above the hard ground on which she now stood. They had needed a place to share the beauty in their hearts, to be at one with nature, to live only for each other, even if only for a while, to find real happiness. And they had been blessed to find this paradise, this perfect piece of nature where most people only visit in their dreams, where some just hear of, but never visit, where only a very lucky few get to actually see, where the most beautiful memories are made. Because you see, this place, you only stumble upon it, nobody ever really knows the way to the place, and most people never want to return once they get there.

They had climbed up with the help of ladder which they found miraculously at the foot of ‘the place’. Climbing up there was the next best thing she could remember that happened to her in her life, second only to the experience up there; that was simply Amazing.

The beauty of the scene up there was just breathtaking, and can only be understood by being there, not by being told. It was an embodiment of perfection…actually the best work of nature’s art. It made perfect the beauty of what they shared. They had had so much fun up there; they laughed so hard, played like silly children, danced with abandon and the world around just stood still and envied, as they enjoyed every second for the sheer joy of it. It was really the perfect place for the perfect moment of her life, and she knew without a doubt that no matter what happened now, she would never have given up sharing those precious moments for anything…

It had all been so wonderful, until evening came, and they had to go back. The light had disappeared suddenly, and it seemed like the elements were so envious, they couldn’t wait to put an end to their joy. They both wished they could stay there forever.

And then the winds came, it was so heavy, blowing away everything in its part, and they knew in its wake, there would be a storm. That would be hazardous. They had to get back before the storm, before it became too dark for them to find their way back.

She started heading down, so sure he would follow. She called out to him behind her, but the raging wind made it impossible for him to hear. She got to the edge of the place and held out her hand to him, when she did not feel the warmth of his hands around her; she turned to see him still seated where she left him. He begged her to stay, but she knew nobody could weather the storm up here. They had to go back, and if the fates were kind enough, maybe, just maybe they might find their way back to this place again. But for now, they had to leave with only their best memories.

At the edge, she pleaded with him to return with her, so they could find their way back in the dark together. He got up, and began walking towards her. She stepped on the ladder, slowly, ever so slowly, waiting for him to catch up, wishing time and eternity would hold still, so they could savour a little more time in this paradise.

The wind whipped the air and her hair into her face, making vision difficult as she descended the ladder. She had to hold on with all her might, as the ladder squeaked at the point of contact with the edge. She called out to him to hurry up, while she tried to locate the steps. When she almost down, the ladder was forcefully snatched from its hold on the edge, and flung down forward by a very powerful wind.

She screamed as she fell, and her scream brought him hurriedly to the edge. For a few seconds, all was still. When she regained her senses, she felt like the product of a stampede. It took a while for her to become conscious of her surroundings, and with it came pain, and the sudden realization that he was stranded up there, alone.

That was when she started to cry. She knew that she had to help him somehow, but she didn’t know what to do. He was still standing at the edge, but he was staring at the place. He did, like a little child holding unto what little happiness he had gained from their time together, not want to let go, afraid of the pain of being separated by their different worlds.

She began clearing a place for him to land, removing as much as possible, everything hurtful from his path. She knew it would be a hard fall, which was inevitable; she only wanted to make it as less damaging as she could.

Pain coursed through her, not just physical pain, but that heart wrenching, deep seated sorrow that stemmed from the knowledge that try as she may, the end of their today would definitely make senseless its ethereal beginning. The fates were dealing a very hard hand; even their beautiful memories would be snatched from them.

When she had cleared a little piece of land, she motioned for him to jump. She could sense his fear, it mirrored hers. When he had braced himself enough, he threw himself off from the edge and started falling downwards.

But fate was not done yet. For instead of him to land on the cleared piece of land, the force of the wind propelled him to land on the heap of hard objects which she had gathered together in one place while clearing the landing for him.

Her screams rent the air, and competed favourably with the howling wind in volumes. She knew if he did not survive this fall, it would be her fault. Far safer it would have been if he had just landed on the surface just the way it was. Her desire to help him had inadvertently led to her creating the danger that would break him.

She ran to him. He was a mass of broken flesh and bones; mercifully, he was breathing, but unconscious, so he couldn’t feel the pains. But she could not move him, she could do nothing for him out here alone, and the storm was very close, she could feel it. She had to get help.

She did not know if she could find her way back in the dark, alone; She was not sure he would still be alive when she returned (if she ever did); she did not know how far she could go before the storm set in. She only knew that she had to go back.

She was weeping as she ran, hurting from the sadness of it all, bruised from her fall, afraid of the darkness into which she ran, scared of not being able to return to him, but most of all, broken by the thought that he would never remain the same, if he survived.

She should never have come here, but that was stupid; it was better to have been here for a minute than not to have come at all. She could have stayed back with him, but that was unrealistic; they would never have made it through the storm. She should have left the objects the way they were on the floor, but that was callous, how would she know he wouldn’t land on the space created? She should have…

She prayed as she stumbled blindly, painfully ahead, that he would make it, survive this and find his way back to where he came from…

written by Helen Nnadi

finding your alter egos

2011-10-17T08:41:00.003+01:00

In the silence of your heart

I think that time we spend in the dark recesses of our homes,…..our rooms, our cells, wherever it is that we live in,…..the “alone” time we spend there, is what defines us individaully.

So what do you think about when you’re in your room, all alone with just your thoughts. If your thoughts were given life & form, and is a human being, in that room with you, what would it look like? Would it be some pretty “snow-whitish” girl, innocent in mind & body, or would it be some hideous creature, hunched back with evil flashing a maniacal grin betraying the hunger for murder within? Would it be an old wrinkled face with battered features, in contrast to your youthful self. Old & wrinkled from the pains and trials of life, experiences beyond your years, sorrow begetting tears. Or, would it yet be a religious, upright Priest of God (or some other religious personnel). Or then again, it just might be a super athlete, with medals round its neck, & you smile as you see it ; jump,……run,….jump again, run,….skipping through the 400 metres hurdles like an impala in the wild., as it closes in on the final hurdle, you smile & imagine it, while you sit in your wheel chair, & indulge yourself in a moment of fantasy.

These thoughts are a true reflection of who we are, when we are free from the inhibitions & shackles of reality, & allow our dreams roam.

So why don’t you try it, take a minute or two. Go into your room, lay down on your bed, facing the ceiling, shut your eyes & take 10 deep breaths ( to relax your mind), in alternation with shorter breaths (10 as well), and gradually, afetr the breaths, just focus your mind on you, firstly start by how your day went, then while your rec-collecting your thoughts, then try & look at yourself from a CCTV kinda view as you watch yourself go through your day. From the house, to the bus station, you watch yourself, rifle through your work papes, sip coffee, or whatever it is you did through your day, & then after your done with re-collecting your day, & watching yourself go through it, switch. Now imagine yourself, from the moment you woke up, but now in a different light. Imagine yourself, the way you would have wished to be: a super hero, a serial killer, a fireman (even though you’re a vetinary doctor in real life, lol), etc. Now imagine yourself, making your way through the day.

If in the end, you always imagine yourself doing evil, then try & start putting in an effort to ward off those thoughts. A visit to the shrink wouldn’t be out of place, because there might be some latent issues inherent that havent been dealt with, & the wrong situation would bring out this personality in you. On the other hand, if your thoughts are pure & beautiful, do well to indulge, because every now & then, we need those escapes from life’s realities & harshness.

Goodluck in discovering your alter-egos.

hope ( continued)

2011-10-11T09:20:00.004+01:00

.......joe's eyes were on the skies, as he watched the moon cower behind the thick dark skies, just as his lil theresa was tucking in behind her father. Joe stood haplessly, but turned to his daughter, as she tugged at him in fear, & reassured her that everything would be ok.

now the wind was more fierce & the animals in his neighbour's farm were frenzied. a cranky noise followed, as he saw the roof of the poultry ripped off, as well as other shards of metals & hay blown about the place.

it was clear that standing outdoors wasnt safe anymore, so Joe picked his lil woman n walked back with a dejection in his face.

they locked up all the doors n shut all the windows tight. the electricity was knocked out, so he had to walk in almost pitch darkness, feeling on the walls, as he guided himself to the lil space that was their kitchen. he checked in the cabinet hanging (barely) on the wall, n pulled out the lantern, lit it & went rummaging through the cabinets. he got theresa a few of the cookies (softened by exposure to air) left over, & gave her some milk, as she sat down in the middle of the room, quiet & in fear. joe was quiet too, but not scared, @ least not particularly for their lives. as he looked out of the window, @ what he was scared for; "his crops". he watched as the storm outside ravaged, ruthless & unrelenting.

an hour & a half later, the storm was over, & he walked out to what was left of his field. his crops that he had been tending to & put his hope of surviving through the winter, they were all gone, DESTROYED!

His eyes welled up, & he let the tears fall, as he let out a soft cry & asked : "God, why me?"

Joe was a prayerful man & he believed in God. so does this mean God hates him, or Joe's hope in God was futile?

NO!.......God doesnt look to plants to help a man in need, he looks towards other men, like u & I, to come through when we see someone in despair, in desolation, in need. these occurences, give us an opportunity, to be an outstretched helping hand. the much (or little) we might have to spare, might be the "all" someone else needs to survive.

would you come across Joe, whoz lost all he has to a mishap & turn the other cheek, or could u be his hope for a better day for him n his lil theresa?

think about it.

hope

2011-10-07T16:14:00.004+01:00

HOPE:

the farmer looked up at the ominous skies, & could foresee that this wouldn't be the usual night. the stars were gradually disappearing behind the clouds that gathered, seemingly to plot something dastardly.

farmer joe was a decent man, who has lives on his farm in arizona, with his little family. He lost his young wife angela, to cancer earlier in spring and was left with his little 5 year old daughter theresa. his wife used to be there to assist in planting & tending to the crops in his little farm, but since she died, things have been a little more difficult being that he was now the father, the mother, the farmer, the procurement officer, & the harvester.

theresa fell ill shortly after her mother died, & this further diminished his little available resources, as he would have to drive quite some distance to the neighbouring county to get medical assistance, which was priced at a premium, but Joe wasnt about to lose his daughter a month after he just lost his sweet wife. theresa got well, n joe barely made it in time to plant his crops, as he did so in late June. he endured a torrid time, adjusting to new life, & their food reserves were fast depleting. on some occasions, theresa would walk up to his bed very late at night, woken by hunger pangs, and she wound stand bent, like a flailing stem of corn next to the head of his metal bed, as she would barely whisper, " father, i am hungry, & my tummy bites". @ this, Joe would get up & walk to the store room, pick out an onion bulb & hand to his little daughter, to help quieten her tummy.

all the while, he was hoping things would get better by October.

and now, on this cold chilly night in september, the skies are insinuating that his assumptions might be fatally wrong.......

(to be continued)

in memory of steve jobs

2011-10-06T17:35:00.001+01:00

Steven Paul "Steve" Jobs (February 24, 1955 – October 5, 2011)^[6]^[7]^[8] was an American computer entrepreneur and inventor. He was co-founder,^[9]chairman, and chief executive officer of Apple Inc.^[10]^[11] Jobs also previously served as chief executive of Pixar Animation Studios; he became a member of the board of directors of The Walt Disney Company in 2006, following the acquisition of Pixar by Disney. He was credited in Toy Story (1995) as an executive producer.^[12]

In the late 1970s, Jobs — along with Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak, Mike Markkula^[9] and others — designed, developed, and marketed one of the first commercially successful lines of personal computers, the Apple II series. In the early 1980s, Jobs was among the first to see the commercial potential of Xerox PARC's mouse-driven graphical user interface, which led to the creation of the Macintosh.^[13]^[14] After losing a power struggle with the board of directors in 1985,^[15]^[16] Jobs resigned from Apple and founded NeXT, a computer platform development company specializing in the higher-education and business markets. Apple's subsequent 1996 buyout of NeXT brought Jobs back to the company he co-founded, and he served as its CEO from 1997 until August 2011.

In 1986, he acquired the computer graphics division of Lucasfilm Ltd which was spun off as Pixar Animation Studios.^[17] He remained CEO and majority shareholder at 50.1 percent until its acquisition by The Walt Disney Company in 2006.^[18] Consequently Jobs became Disney's largest individual shareholder at 7 percent and a member of Disney's Board of Directors.^[19]^[20] On August 24, 2011, Jobs announced his resignation from his role as Apple's CEO.

On October 5, 2011, Jobs died^[21]^[22]^[23] in California at age 56 of pancreatic cancer

in remembrance.

culled from wikipedia

from the eyes of a bird

2011-10-05T14:19:00.003+01:00

it takes off from the tree which it has called home for a while now,.....from the swampy crevices of lagos, it emerges, spreading its huge wings it glides, cutting through the humid, dense & pertinacious air that is characteristic of the area.

as it glides on, it sees two young men go at it,......1 shouting at the tops of his voice, with a bloodied mouth, while the other still stands in a some distance away, with both fists clenched & his guard up. onlookers try to separate & douse the fighting, some other people pour some water on the bleeding man's mouth to try & stop the bleeding.

it glides higher as it spots a few men in black been drawn to the scene, we wouldn't want a case of accidental discharge on our hands now would we? (if you're nigerian you'll know what i mean).

from it's higher altitude, it moves quietly through the cooler air, looking down on the crazy traffic on ikorodu road, i'm sure at this moment, it would be saying to itself, "unlucky bastards, i bet they wish they were me right now".

it continues its flight through this rugged city, changing altitude intermittently, the danfo buses weaving a crazy haze, & the okada riders, meandering and defying death with every swerve of their bike handles, smoke bellowing out of a shop that just caught fire, neighbours pouring as much water as quickly as they can draw them out of the wells, little kids playing ball in on a street close, as a few old wrinkled men gather around a small lotto store, trying their luck @ a chance for one quick leap up the social ladder, younger men, @ the local beer parlor drinking & eating nkwobi, pepper soup & other local delicacies, with loud music blaring unapologetic-ally in the background. it's just a normal day, in the life of a lagosian, .........but.......

ahhh.............it's there finally, the favourite spot,.....the noise is crazy, customers trying to haggle the price with the butchers, while the steading sound of the blade hitting the chopping board gives a background beat to the cacophony that is the abattoir market trade. yes this is its favourite place in all of lagos,.....its friends are all here,....wishing they could salivate to show how excited they are.

it hovers,.....slowly, as it circles its friends, gathered around the left over carcasses.

after eating as much as the butcher affords it,.....it's had it's belly full of different varieties of meat, happy with a very succesful day, it takes off,.....flying like a drunk bird,......& it perches on top of a 17 storey complex, as it watches the city.

lagos,.......in the eye of a vulture.

CANT

2011-09-26T13:21:00.003+01:00

av u ever heard a statement directed @ u with that word included in it......u CANT do it,....u CANT get it,......its impossible, u CANT achieve it.

definitely, most of us would av heard that, but with varying degree of conviction, & actually sometimes, rightly so, following logic, reason & taking situations into account.

well,.......as we say in Naija, "na u get ur mouth" (you own your mouth), therefore, u av d right to say what u want. so when someone says, i CANT achieve what i set out to achieve, he has the right to, but it's now in my place to weigh the content of his statement.

what are the factors mitigating against what i'm setting out to do? itemize all of them, n then tackle them, one after another. remain focused, find solutions, seek advice, re-strategize (if necessary), come out with a stronger, more feasible blue-print, get constructive criticism, dot ur i's & cross ur t's & set out to achieve your goal.

no matter how difficult things might seem, (i'll av 2 edit a quote of michael Croleone in Godfather 2) : "if you've learnt anything in this life, anything is possible".

so as you set out to achieve what they say u CANT,........hehehe,......smile & tell them : "you CANT imagine what i'm capable of".

love - hate paradoxes

2011-09-19T10:40:00.003+01:00

today's article is me, giving a different view point on the issue of love & hate:

love:

when young, it is exuberant, so vibrant & so beautiful. its innocence betrayed by its naivety. this last trait, it stubbornly hangs on to, for the duration of its life time. like i say: the lifespan of love, is the lifespan of the naivety. naivety is to love, like oxygen is to man. as love grows, it might not be as pretty as it was when it was just a baby, it might not be as cute, or innocent, fact is it might be wrinkled, old & haggard, battered by missiles thrown @ it by everyday life. it's smile is weakened, by beliefs it held on to that were true, but over time have been proven wrong. it has a voracious appetite, as it feeds on your strength & will, tugging hard on your tear ducts every time its threatened. love is stupid, requiring you to do what other emotions dare not consider, & logic almost always contradicts, & to show you the extent of how stupid, even though it often involves four eyes, (or in the case of the odd love triangle - 6 eyes , & more in other crazier cases), it is still termed as blind. "love is truly blind" , cos sometimes the resulting actions as a result of this emotion is beyond belief. Love is patient & soft, enduring all thrown @ it, & still keeps a happy (maybe battered, but happy none-the-less) face. love can be said to be weak, this is much unlike......

HATE. hate is calculated, calm & focused. it doesn't ask 4 2much food emotionally, all it requires of u is to feed it d same meal everyday,......just 2 "remember the incident that gave birth to it" thats all. it grows as much as u feed it,.....but then, it's a resilient emotion, unlike love, u might not feed it in weeks/months, but the day u remember, it springs right back to life. it doesnt need 4 eyes, heck it doesnt need an eye @ all,.....just a strong heart & a ruthless mind, & it can grow bigger than a wild tree. it doesnt forgive, it doesnt pardon. it relates reasonably well with logic, & most times, regardless of how harsh its repercussions, it is easily understood. over fed hate, (just like love, sometimes) lies to you, but pure hate, is always truthful, always business like, & always blunt.

but alas, the ultimate paradox is that, even though hate requires little feeding & love requires to be feed alot, the truth is love never consumes u, the only time it ever will, would be when it turns to HATE.

there's a thin line between love & hate, & even love with all its stupidities, is a more beautiful emotion, intoxicating & refreshing, than is hate. yes, it might demand that we give in 2 "fantastic" thinking & a pinch of illusions every now & then, but lets face it, that's what life is about, we are born to die, but we always push that thought to the back of our minds, & live & enjoy the moment (which is an illusion in itself).

so love, because, it's part of our human nature, dig deep, find it, & live it.

p.s: the depth to which we must dig to find it is relative to every human, cos @ times, life & various events, might have buried our capacity to love, deeper than it might have for others.

sigh back again

2011-09-15T14:33:00.004+01:00

sorry (once again),

i know , i know, i've been away for a while, ( a very long time). i didnt give up though, i was off, travelling & chasing other aspirations. been tossed n turned by the world, but guess what? i'm still standing, n my head up, eyes sky-wards, looking @ the grey clouds through the stormy rains, eyes drowned in rainfall but the gaze still fixed nonetheless. my behaviour hasnt been perfect nor my achievements "THUS FAR" enviable, but my faith's still dogged, in Christ who is my hope & restoration.

in summary what am i trying 2say?........simple: "big things cometh soon".

so how is everyone? to those that miss my writings n articles,....i'm sorry if i let you down, by ignoring this blog, & to those that didnt miss me? well i'm back, DEAL WITH IT. i'll try to be online abit more often, n post a bit more frequently k?

i'll also open up the comments section soon, so spread the word, & encourage a bruva.

fanx all,

God bless.

.......latest

2011-07-19T11:47:00.002+01:00

first & foremost, i would like to beg your pardon, i've been away from this blog cos i have been away from home,.....travelled some where up north,.....abuja,....yeh, if you've been conversant with the news lately, it's that part of nigeria where there were a number of bombings in recent times,....... :( & this overshadows the more important title this stoic city holds,......its the capital of Nigeria.
i had to leave the city av known all my life,.....the rugged,....ruthless,.....n daring......THE CITY OF LAGOS! i travelled by road btw,.....spend the whole day on the road,..... :( (which i made up my mind never 2 do again). it was like i was in a reality show,....."solitary" or sum oda wierd reality show dat was designed to test my breaking point. i played my psp for a while,.....got bored,....ate some biscuits,.....got tired of dat.....tried watching the movie that as on the tv in the bus,.....the dvd semed to be badly cracked cos the movie "hung". i stared @ the still pic & was like, wtf did i get myself in2? when does dis damn bus stop? av got 2 get off dis damn bus before i throw up,.....literally,.....cos my "motion sickness" was starting to kick in & i was starting to feel outta sorts. "hmm,......if i throw up in this bus,.....i'll,.......i'll,.....i'll av a pile of puke all over n dat wont go wiv d colour of my dressing......(lol.....dat was meant 2 b a joke.....d part dat it doesnt go wiv d colour of my dressing,......get it?....hunh? ........ok,ok......it wasnt funny).
anyways,.....my uncomfortable trip ended around 8pm (mind u i left the park in lagos around 6:45am), @ least that was when i got int the park @ abuja, & then another round of an uncomfortable ride started as i boarded a cab wiv my aunt to the house,......my back hurt, my bum hurt,.....n......*phew* we home,.......finally. dang!
so now starts my abuja adventure, trying to get this town in a vice grip, n squeeze out as much money as i can from it.
av got plans,.......n ur standing in the way "abuja",.....n i dont take too kindly wiv cities standing in my way.
WHERE MA MONEY,......lol.
(i'll keep you posted as things unfold,.....).
IN GOD WE TRUST.
ps: chika is typing making this post from a cyber cafe sumwhr in an outskirt suburb of abuja.

kidnapped (cont.)

2011-07-06T10:40:00.002+01:00

>>>>>

I hurl myself, with the chair i'm still cuffed in front @ the door as it opens. the rusty leg of the chair catches the guy in the neck, & he lets out a scream! my migranes are intensified by his screaming & i instinctively give him a fierce head butt through his separated jaws, while i knock him unconscious with a quick hit of the chair to his forehead.

he slumps...........i move.

on a slightly better illuminated corridor now,.....i move as fast & as nimbly as a guy chained to a chair can. my heart's beating fast, cos i dont know if i just killed a man,....or if.........i dunno,....n ryt now,....i dont care. i just gotta find my way out of here. i find a small axe attached on the wall, i quickly get the axe off the wall & race to what i hope is an exit door outta this nightmare.

i run straight through the door, & it is infact an exit, but this maze isnt over, cos now i find myself in the middle of what seems to be a sparsely populated forest.

panting & turning my head from one side to another, & dragging the chair on the floor while i trudge on. i try to catch my breathe under an old mahogany tree,.......& then i look up & realize that the lights in the small dark house just got switched on,.......& from where i sit, i can make out some shilouettes of guys running to & fro,.................they've seen "him". i immediately start hacking @ the chain, but its not making much impact.

BAMM!!!! the door of the little house flies open.....i can make out 2 guys standing at the entrance, trying to scan the area,......"Aguba! Aguba!!......."

it's on now,.......i look at the chair, still cuffed to my sore left wrist. *think fast, THINK FAST!!!!* ,

still hacking on the cuffs,.....

still nothing.....

still footsteps closing in.......

i can hear my name louder now,.....

they are close......

........................pause.....................................................................

........................think,........................

i hack at the chair instead,...........so now i only have one "leg" of the chair cuffed to me.

3.......2........1........*deep breath*,.....then:

...... zoom,........i make a break, running as fast as i can,.....

gunshots,.........leaves rustling beneath frenetic feet,.....flashlight beams,cutting through the dark night..............more gunshots.............

AGUBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is my personal blog, to assist you in facing personal fears.

Been quite a while.

memories

what do you want to be when you grow up?

the beast of Exmoor

the voices in solitude (poem)

sometime in april

amazing grace

Oba village, early 1800’s. (fictional excerpt)

tribute or parody?

handling disappointments

15 mins @ the chapel

aluu killing

fictional piece

straight from the head

the place

finding your alter egos

hope ( continued)

hope

in memory of steve jobs

from the eyes of a bird

CANT

love - hate paradoxes

*sigh* back again

.......latest

kidnapped (cont.)

sigh back again