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For the Pursuit of Happiness

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For the Pursuit of happiness, I longed for strength to persevere

For the pursuit of happiness, I held on for dear life to the love unknown.

For the pursuit of happiness, the beckoning of souls gone evaded me.

For the pursuit of happiness, I carried the burden of truth.

For the pursuit of happiness, a constant hum kept my heart beating.

For the pursuit of happiness, my soul launched forward to the horizon.

 

I would hold on to this hope,

This glimpse of something that means change,

Change for the greater good.

The consistency of heavens beckoned,

Listing for me the needs yet unmet.

Hovering above me dreams of rest.

 

Hope shall avail me this much delight,

I shall be free when all hath thus being made free,

The wholesomeness of all things equal,

Shall fashion me a kind spirit,

That prevails for all eternity.

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Edonmi

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Let me mourn this death please.

Do not forbid me.

Even when i roll upon his grave,

Leave me be.

I ask for this alone.

 

Softly cuddle me and ask no questions.

I have no desire in providing answers now.

I am in search of some myself.

The likes of which i fear i may never have.

 

Whistle sorrowful songs.

Pick me up some Nina Simone,

I need not overcome this in time.

I want to wallow in this misery.

It feeds my guilty soul.

 

Swallow me this death,

Death coming, take me with you.

What have i to live for again,

I have destroyed the very things that cared for me.

Holding onto those things that didn’t.

 

I wanted freedom, i got it.

I wanted a new life, I earned it.

I wanted success, i worked it out.

I wanted happiness, it escaped me.

Peace eroded my soul.

These i could not with all my tries achieve.

 

Aye temi bami!!

O ju mi wo aye le ibosi.

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Things Lost

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A charge I must complete.

This charge i must say naught of.

It’s secretive nature loads my heart.

I shall carry it to my grave,

This is the promise I have made.

 

Let him live, he should live please…

Whatever it takes let him see another day.

All I’m asking is for one more sunrise.

The new morning light of tomorrow.

The fading of the dark, the growing light.

 

It was because i couldn’t get there in time,

It was because of the dinner i had to attend,

It was the business meeting I had to make,

My wife was in the delivery room,

The journey was too long,

I had no idea until now.

 

How will i absolve myself,

How will the what ifs be erased.

I could have been a better father,

A loving mother i might have earned,

But i was none of these.

 

I was instead, a prodigal Sister.

The hermit that never returned home.

This sojourn now holds no taste for me,

The one thing i loved, i have lost.

Lost it all chasing anonymity.

Chasing freedom and silence

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Contempt

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Have we become so familiar?

Have our stirrings gotten so usual?

Does the value we place in our needs become worthless?

Have we degraded to absolutely nothing?

 

Hold onto me my love,

Let me hold onto you my love.

Breathe peace to my soul,

And let my calm bring you joy.

 

Let us revisit together our jolly good days,

Days when the pleasures were of discovering each other.

The wants and needs of our lives all we valued,

Our choices regarded whole.

 

Should I look forward to your coming again?

Will you hope for my laughter in season?

Are the ties that bind ‘re-knotable’?

Will we scale these storms?

 

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The Visits

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The first visit was for a cause,

We wanted intently to know each other’s spur.

The driving power behind actions we each took,

Perhaps a gleam into the oasis of each other’s mind.

 

The second visit was a choice,

One driven by interest in the workings of an urge.

This urge was not a one that was pure,

It was simply the lust of the flesh.

 

The third visit was to purge,

The consistent desire to rekindle this new flame.

A flame of interest sparked outrageously,

A never ending need to fulfil.

 

The last visit was an acceptance,

The recognition that your aim had hit.

That the longing was to be eternal,

Unending and forever strong.

 

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Ahh… Sola

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He says it all.

He won’t tale bear but you will surely know about it.

Don’t bother asking for he will surely tell

And of his own accord.

 

Regard not that as a sin against him

 

Omode..ee.. isn’t that what Bro. Dapo said?

I think he’s feminine if you ask me.

Laolu thinks he has issues.

And Sharon… well Sola is fussy you know.

 

Ahh… Sola

 

He won’t eat bone.

So serve him not chicken that has not been deboned.

He won’t touch pepper.

So do not expect his help with chilli.

 

Last born syndrome

 

He has mastered the art of demands.

Now to my grievance,

I do not want to call you Bro. Sola,

But I have to, hence this rant.

 

When he sure sees this I except ‘you no serious’.

 

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Rose of Sharon

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What should I call her?
How should I describe her?
Shall I say she is easily impressionable?
Shall I say she is a sweet naïve individual?
She is a romantic in life generally,
Always believing the best in people,
Afraid of hurting people’s feelings.

How did I get to know her you ask?
Oh how shall I start?
From the beginning or where I decide?
It will not be so dramatic to start from the beginning,
And drama is what I wish for.
Because you see,
Apparently, she enjoys drama too.

Oh that my heart and soul had never known the horrors it does,
Maybe I would have her patience and innocence.
That the stages of my life had been smooth and plain,
I would be very loving and tender.
Unabashed to be soft and calm,
To be regarded as nice.
Seriously concerned about emotions.

Oh Sharon that you would pick your words of this poetry,
That you would smile and say SERIOUSLY!
That APPARENTLY it would amuse you to know,
That I defied your threats and called it bluff,
To write to you and for you,
This simple concinnity of words
To express my enjoyment of your visit.

You are absolutely missed.

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Reprisal

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Children of loathe, how have I libelled you?

 

Children of rage, how have i irked you?

 

Children of bitterness, how have i aggrieved you?

 

This world is so small a place that this brawny negative ardour should not be encouraged.

Perhaps i have accidentally aggravated you.

Should you not call to my notice my sin and let me apologise?

Why should you hold onto this umbrage?

isn’t it too much a charge for thee to lug?

Exonerate i pray thee and be thence free in spirit.

 

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Assiduity

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Confusion darkens the horizon.

The enfilade of demons mown me down.

The zest for living long diminished.

I hanker for death, for therein doth my soul feels equanimity.

 

Forbearance says my soul,

Assiduity to felo-de-se can grant me gratification.

Death is but a path,

A dependable journey to rest.

 

Ah alas I must look on the souls yet dependent on me,

My survival determines their existence,

Would that these pretty souls had not existed,

Then would my life hath long being taken from the world.

 

I cannot rest yet.

I shall wait awhile as it is,

For in all my desire for rest for my soul,

I have a duty to these pretty souls to show them the way.

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Sombre

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Besides death what else can humble a man?

The calling of the Earth,

The sealing of Fate,

The deciding of Destiny.

 

Whispers of the grave beckons.

The callings of souls gone before,

The strength of which cannot be overthrown,

Cannot be wished off.

 

Comfort me my brethren yet alive,

Hold me close with your breathing scent,

Make me crave for the grace of a pumping heart,

Lest I forget what it feels like to breathe.

 

Would I that my life had a separate path,

That all I ever experienced were but a dream,

That the choices before me were forever…

Oh help me heavens! For i live now in blasé.

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My Creole

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‘My Creole’
By: Alero Ajems Arubi

Many people have always wondered what happened to my upbringing, when I tell them I only understand and speak English Language. I know I amaze them, that sometimes, they think I pretend, to front an image of ‘foreign-ness’, but the truth is, that is my creole; the only language I was exposed to as a child and the only language I have been really taught.
The way this came about is that, my parents; who speak different languages, never quite learned each other’s language, and English language became the shared home language therefore our mother tongue.
As you will have understood, ‘Creole’ in this passage is referring to a language that becomes the native language of a new generation of children. A setting in which this has occurred before is during the bleakest days of slavery in the western hemisphere, when efforts were made to seperate African slaves with the same native language in oerder to forestall insurrections as thus began what has been proposed as the origin of the US ‘Vernacular Black English’.
And so having understood my early days and what came to be my upbringing and mother tongue I hope I will be pardoned and maybe a little pitied about my ‘Creole’.

Passage Writing – 1

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My Masculine Temperament
By: Alero Ajems

I knew early in life that I was different from all other females in my locality.
Where girls would wish to have their hair plaited and in the recent patterns, with beautiful jewellries to adorn themselves, I sought to evade making my hair (wishing instead to have it cut like my brothers’), crying everytime my hair was being made, and cringing at jewellries (misplacing them consistently). I lived an uncommon female life. Whenever my parents were away I would join my brothers in their games of play. I lived in such a way that I was regarded by my brothers as their younger ‘brother’.
When they jumped from the balcony in front of our house, as a sport and the girls watched and cheered, I did that too. All the females in my neighbourhood knew I was masculine in my choice of character. I can still hear their derisive laughter. I lived my life doggedly because my brothers embraced me as I was. Out of reluctance and helplessness, my brothers involved me in everything they did; including playing football in their junior league. And by sheer force of their example, I learned to accept people for who they desired to be.

JACK MA: Founder of ALIBABA

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The Worst People to help are the Poor People.
Give them free, they think its a trap.
Tell them its a small investment, they’ll say can’t earn much.
Tell them to come in big, they’ll say no money.
Tell them try new things, they’ll say no experience.
Tell them its Traditional Business, they’ll say hard to do.
Tell them its a new Business Model, they’ll say MLM.
Tell them to run a shop, they’ll say no freedom.
Tell them to run new business, they’ll say no expertise.
They do have something in common;
‘They love to ask Google’,
‘Listen to friends who are as hopeless as them’,
‘They think more than a University Professor and do less than a blind man’.
Just ask them what can they do,
They won’t be able to answer you.
My Conclusion:
Instead of your heart beats faster,
Why not just act a bit faster.
Instead of just thinking about it,
Why not do something about it.
Poor People fail because of one common behaviour;
‘Their whole life is about waiting’

By: Jack Ma.

NSG: Naija Single Girl; My Stolen Phone.

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How I got that phone was a miracle. For months, I downloaded every nice photo I saw of it on the internet.
I read ALL of the reviews on GSM ARENA. I saved penny by penny and one semester’s holiday, I stayed over at an aunt’s and on the day I was due to leave, she gave me enough money that completed my savings for the phone.

I remember brimming with smiles as I walked into a branch of Slot to purchase my Nokia e-Series. That day was one of the happiest days in my life. My phone became my family, boyfriend and best friend until the original owner came for it.

3pm one sunny afternoon, I went to the salon to retouch my hair. I was the only customer in the salon and my head was completely bent while my hairdresser kept applying relaxer.
My best friend was charging in a corner. Little did I know the last time I held it in my hands was the last time I was going to see my baby, dead or alive.

I remembered my hair dresser talking to a little boy who walked in, telling him she had no hair dye to sell. I didn’t see his face but I guessed he shouldn’t be more than 14 years old judging by the sound of his voice. Immediately he left, I remembered getting up to pick my phone but it was nowhere to be found, the charger dangling by the wall.

I panicked! That mini-heart attack you get when your phone mysteriously disappears from your pocket. I quickly collected my hairdresser’s phone and dialed my number. My worst fears were confirmed. The phone was switched off.
I sat on the ground and screamed. The hairdresser said the boy that came in probably took it. She said he rode a bicycle. I got up and walked to the left end on the street, and then to the right end of the street with my hands on my head. Then I ran left, and then right, asking people if they saw a boy rode past in a bicycle. I was losing my mind.
Usually, I never leave relaxer on my hair for more than ten minutes but I cared less that day. I didn’t care about the heat, the burns or my thinning hair strands. I was running left and right on the street with relaxer on my head.

A small group of people had gathered in front of the saloon to ask my hairdresser why her customer was running mad as my hairdresser narrated the incident to them. Two girls held my hands and begged me to at least allow her wash the relaxer.

It was getting to an hour and I refused to wash the relaxer.
Anyway, I didn’t leave the saloon until 7:30pm that day cos I had no willpower to walk.

When I got to my hostel that night, I met some of my friends waiting in my corner. Bad news travel fast indeed. They knew how much I dotted on my phone and they came to register their condolences. In a bid to console me, my friends were saying, “Don’t worry, that person that stole your phone has taken all your problems in this life!!!”
I was like, “Did I tell you people I have a problem with my problems? He should bring back my phone and my problems!”

I was inconsolable

That night I cried myself to sleep. I prayed for a miracle. I wished I backed-up my photos and data, I regretted going to the saloon, I regretted having hair. The thought that an illiterate boy was going to sell my N48,000 phone for N5,000 hurt me.
I wore black that week as though I was mourning….

When I showed no signs of improvement, five of my friends rallied and contributed 2’K each for me to get a London used version of the phone. Sister gave me 10K, I had 10’K and I was able to find a guy on Twitter that sold his for me for 30k.
I still have the replacement with me and though it isn’t working properly, I smile every time I stare at it.

If I lose a phone again (GOD FORBIDS!), I will surely act that way cos I have this special connection with material things I buy with my money, especially when I save for 9 months, clean kitchens, sweep and babysit kids to afford it.

GIVE: ‘A Time’

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*GIVE IT TIME*

When someone comes and tells you, I can’t sleep without you, I love you the way you are and I can put up with your good and bad attitude. Before you commit your heart please *GIVE IT TIME*.

When You meet someone today and feel like marrying him/her tomorrow, before you do remember you need to *GIVE IT TIME*.

When you visit your uncle and you are to stay there for 2 weeks holidays, don’t be carried away that they serve you your preferred food and give you hot water to bath during your first two days and you start making arrangement to relocate to their house, First *GIVE IT TIME*.

When a brother visits you and wakes you up by his shouting of prayer from 12am to 6am, please don’t shut him down, first *GIVE IT TIME*.

When a brother joins your fellowship in First year and he is in every group/unit, please don’t rush and make him a leader rather *GIVE IT TIME*.

When you enter a new environment and everybody worships you and eats your messes, don’t be carried away just *GIVE IT TIME*.

When someone comes with a new business with unbelievable
promises, please before you involve your money, first *GIVE IT TIME*.

When you see a new church in town and you hear their waves, before you conclude about how hot they are first *GIVE IT TIME*.

Your Uncle or Father told You that you are useless and worthless and can’t amount to anything, just laugh it away and ask them to *GIVE YOU TIME*.

Finally when you are in a cross road of decisions, you don’t know what to do, ask the people or person involved to please *Give You Time*.

The wise priest in the Bible in Acts told them to leave Peter and John…Rather, *Give Them Time*.

You can be good in giving people tests and trying out who they are…some people know how to pass them all but the test of time they fail.

Time *Tests Love* and *Proves It*.
Time *Tests Businesses* and *Authenticates It*.
Time *Tests Spirituality* and *Reveals It*.
Time, *A God Tester*.

Quote me… Consistency with time is the True Test of Efficiency.

Time is a *TESTER*
Time is an *AUTHENTICATOR*
Time is a *REVEALER*
Time is still a *MATTER*

Give Nigeria time.

Thanks for giving this long post *A TIME*.
Stay Blessed and enjoy your day.

Benjamin Franklin: For the want of a Nail.

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For want of a nail the shoe was lost,
for want of a shoe the horse was lost,
for want of a horse the knight was lost,
for want of a knight the battle was lost,
for want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
So a kingdom was lost—all for want of a nail.
This proverb has come down in many variations over the centuries (see historical references below). It describes a situation in which a failure to anticipate or correct some initially small dysfunction leads by successively more critical stages to an egregious outcome. The rhyme’s implied small difference in initial conditions is the lack of a spare horseshoe nail, relative to a condition of its availability.[1] At a more literal level, it expresses the importance of military logistics in warfare.

Such chains of causality are perceived only in hindsight. No one ever lamented, upon seeing his unshod horse, that the kingdom would eventually fall because of it.[1]

A related proverb is “A stitch in time saves nine.” A somewhat similar idea is referred to in the metaphor known as The Camel’s nose.

Also note that the word “want” in the poem refers to a definition of “want” meaning “lack,” rather than “desire”, from 1150-1200; Middle English wante < Old Norse vanta to lack.

Nigerians: Behold Buhari

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I love Jonathan, I wanted I’m to win.
I loved PDP, I wanted them in power.
I am not happy with their loss, infact I hold it against APC.
I do not like Buhari for causing them to loose.
I want a christain in power, a Civilian.
My hopes has been dashed. It is not to be so at least for another 4 years yet.
So, I shall therefore not create a tantrum.
I shall not because of my dislike for APC and Buhari cause a hate scheme and begin to encourage a rebellion, or post comments that would sabotage his government.
I am a christian, and I must remember I prayed for God’s will before, during and after the elections. And if I know God hears me and answers me, then why should I question his decision?
This is it:
Buhari is going to be our president for at least another four years. So please let’s all join hands together and help him do his duty by us.
Let’s not sit back and start waiting and watching for his mistakes, to criticize, and publicize. Saying we said so. He is human afterall and therefore isn’t perfect.
You must understand that he is Military.
He was trained to achieve results in fast ways. He ruled during the military regime and so still has a lot to learn in civilian government.
His idea of changing the country fast is definitely not going to happen.
It would take time, he probably hasn’t realized that yet.
He might possibly be the only one fighting for honesty amongst a team of crooks, who knows?
So please do not pressure him yet.
Do not begin to make demands on him.
Do not expect too much.
He campaigned like all politicians would.
He got your votes with promises.
Give him time to fulfill them or not to, before you pounce on him.
He is a man afterall, not God who can speak things to life.
Please let’s all irrespective of our religions, start praying for his peaceful reign as president and hope it goes uneventful as Jonathan’s was.
That is the only way we can enjoy it.
Remember when the head is in order the other parts of the body have a fair chance of surviving.
I am Alero Ajems Arubi, a Rivers/Deltan. I am from the South, I am a Nigerian. I have conceeded defeat and therefore say: Behold Buhari

#Alero_Ajems
Copyright 2016

LIFE: In its many Colors

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A guy met one of his school mates several years after school and he could not believe his eyes; his friend was driving one of the latest sleek Mercedes Benz cars. He went home feeling awful and very disappointed in himself. He thought he was a failure. What he didn’t know was that his friend was a driver and had been sent on errand with his boss’s car!

Rosemary nagged her husband always for not being romantic. She accused him for not getting down to open the car door for her as her friend Jane’s husband did when he dropped her off at work. What Rosemary didn’t know was that Jane’s husband’s car had a faulty door that could only be opened from the outside!

Sampson’s wife went to visit one of her long time friends and was very troubled for seeing the 3 lovely kids of her friend playing around. Her problem was that she had only one child and have been struggling to conceive for the past five years. What she didn’t know was that one of those kids who was the biological child of her friend had sickle cell and had just a year to live; the other two are adopted!

Life does not have a universal measuring tool; so create yours and use it.
Looking at people and comparing yourself with them will not make you better but bitter. If you know the sort of load the chameleon carries, you would’nt ask why it takes those gentle strides. So, enjoy what you have and be grateful for it.. Pass to everyone on ur list to learn from other mistake! Not all that glitters are gold, live and be happy with what you have, everyone is going through one thing or the other.

Dear African Writers: We Read.

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Dear Contemporary African Writer, We Read; We Don’t Just Read You

Dear Contemporary African Writer, We Read; We Don’t Just Read You

**Author – Chisom Nlebedum

The Caine Prize for African Writing has once more gone to a phenomenal African writer who many young readers in Africa are unaware of, and whose works many will probably never read unless examination authorities such as WAEC, NECO or JAMB (high school examination boards in Nigeria) decides to make it on one of their reading lists. That many young African readers know little or nothing about this new winner, and many other contemporary African writers must never be misconstrued as another “Africans do not read episode”, for this is already a ludicrous cliché. WE READ, and it should rather be a question of WHAT DO WE READ than whether we read at all.

For a generation whose eyes and body have become one with the ever moving characters of motion pictures, video games, cartoons, and short clips from Facebook and twitter which all run in minutes and are divided into episodes; a generation that has, in the words of Oprah Winfrey, developed an antenna for detecting B.S.; a generation breaking the boundaries between races, sexes, gender and nationality with the internet, what we read are many and diverse. They range from beautiful short stories written by friends on Facebook, to excerpts, abstracts, summaries, analysis, jokes, riddles and news got from everywhere and anywhere in the internet; reliable or not, logical or not. Any illogicality in these is met with criticisms, as sharp and swift as bullets. We also read popular e-books whose ratings we need to verify from Google reads or whose author we must know before we buy them from kindle or Okada books. We read!

I teach kids in Lekki, some of whom have devoured all the series of The Diary of The Wimpy Kid, Harry Porter, The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson’s series, Twilights, and the list goes on. Yet whenever I throw such names as Chimamanda Adichie, Seffi Attah, Chika Unigwe, Igoni Barret, Helon Habila, Tope Folarin, and the rest, as is expected, they all come back blank. Again, you dare not say they do not read, for I just told you, majority of their tablets and phones are filled with books bought from kindle.

I have also taught school kids in Aba, who also read, even though they are horribly limited by the priority of their parents on the spending of the family income, and the prescription by government and schools, of books hurriedly written and printed by hungry writers who are grossly uninformed and are yet to come to terms with the rules of the English grammar. Indeed, we read, Africa’s young readers read, but we obviously aren’t reading you, dear contemporary African writers. We just don’t read you. I really have to make it known from the start that I am not here to prescribe what to do or what not to do, as I am hardly good at that. My aim is merely to raise the question of who really are the people reading you, dear contemporary African writer. 

At the beginning, we have to admit that your books are hardly available in print, in our book shops. We only see some of your books during literary festivals, book launch, literary workshops or reading events, where few of them are dusted out and sold at ridiculous prices. Many of the bookshops around us are half filled with motivational books, religious books and books on how to make it quick; followed by secondary school textbooks, and out of date science books. Your books are never there! I always do look like a fool walking through all the bookstores in C.M.S, Lagos asking for Night Dancer by Chika Unigwe, Nnedi Okoroafor’s Akata Witch or any book by any contemporary African writer. They are never there!

Dear contemporary African writers, your books are just not available!

Talk of e-books, and that’s where it gets even worse! You and your publishers are yet to understand the importance of e-book to the young readers in Africa. It seems to elude you both, that I bought and read the e-book version of Stieg Larsson’s trilogy, using my laptop; that I have a friend, who during our second year in the university, read about eight different novels of Sidney Sheldon on his phone; that the high school I teach at home, has completed J. K. Rowling’s’ Harry Porter series he bought from Kindle, on his tablet.

Let me repeat that I am not here to blame or ridicule anyone, or prescribe to you how best to go about publishing your works. No, I just felt the need to let you know that the disconnect existing between you, and the African audience is quite “admirable”.

Again, dear African writer, we the readers have evolved. You will not find us reading anything that reads like a Nollywood movie script; of tales of witches and wizards, of evil powers in high places; of the wicked step mother and the oppressed child. Leave those for our oral literature. We will always go back to the mass collection of tales and myths and proverbs of our culture to learn that the wicked will never go unpunished, that the fruit of evil is death. Our Africa has evolved, and is now an Africa where we seek equality between the man and the woman; an Africa where the minority and there rights should be protected; an Africa where electorates have discovered the pettiness of their politicians; an Africa that will stand and stands in judgment against those who take sides with the powerful against the powerless.

Again, I really must repeat that I am not here prescribing to anyone what they must or should write, I am merely saying to you, dear African writers that we are not reading you. And when you wine and dine and dish out prizes to yourselves, just know MAJORITY of us are not reading you, and we do not hold it against you either.

Yes! NYSC should be scraped.

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With the passing out of ‘2014 Batch C’ Corps Members, I have been forced to revisit the issue of the utility of the NYSC Scheme. I understand that this is a particularly controversial subject to discuss. It is obviously so because of the very emotional attachment many people have to the Scheme. The reasons why people have this sentimental attachment to the Scheme is really not the point here. The purpose of this polemic is, rather, a dispassionate review of the original aim of the Scheme and a critical evaluation of its success or otherwise in the light of how it is currently run.

Immediately after the wholly unfortunate Nigeria-Biafra War, the military government of the day, led by then Lieutenant Colonel Yakubu Gowon, whilst taking a clue from countries with similar arrangements, introduced what is now known as the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) Scheme through the instrumentality of what was then the NYSC Decree, 1973 but now the NYSC Act, CAP N84, LFN 2004. The purpose for the innovation, when the long list of objectives is carefully considered, is: the integration of the diverse people of Nigeria. The reason for this is not farfetched. The avoidable war had completely made nonsense of the shaky unity that existed prior to 1967 when the war officially started and had also crystallised the grave misgivings and mistrusts entertained by the disparate people of a country that was cobbled together by the British Colonialists.

As much as I want to commend the government of the time for the foresight which led to the establishment of the Scheme, I am having serious difficulties convincing myself as to why it should be sustained. The great majority of those who think that the Scheme should be sustained believe that it makes for the integration of the country because it provides a rare opportunity for the young people of Nigeria to network and create alliances across the nation that will be useful to them for the present and in the future. Essentially, that it is a veritable tool for national cohesion. While I agree substantially with the good sense in this view, it appears as though it has no practical application in contemporary Nigeria. In order to appreciate this position, one question becomes pertinent: how much integration has the country recorded after the forty or so years that the Scheme has been fully operational?

In fact, how can we achieve integration in this fractious nation when we still insist on indigeneship – for example, that a citizen of Nigeria, a young Nigerian for that matter, should pay more for tuition simply for studying in a university owned by the government of a state other than his even though he was born in that state and has lived all his life there. What about situations where Nigerians are denied job opportunities just because they are not indigenous to the states where the opportunities arose even though, like the immediate example above, they were born there and have lived all their lives there? Even if one tries to agree with the integration argument, will the Scheme receive a fair grade in any objective assessment when we realise that only a tiny percentage of the entire population – Nigerians who graduated before the age of thirty from recognised tertiary institutions – participates in it? This is as opposed to other countries where most adults (people from age 18) participate and are given full military training in order for them to be able to defend the fatherland in case of a serious threat to the corporate existence of their countries. And this, to my mind, is the fundamental basis of national service!

Not too long ago, it was suggested by the NYSC Directorate Headquarters that in the last few years more than two hundred thousand Corps Members are mobilised annually for national service. While one is tempted to salute the managers of the Scheme for addressing the issue of backlog and waiting lists at the universities, one can’t help but wonder whether at this time of dwindling revenues for the federation, there are no better ventures to invest the tens of billions of naira now spent annually on the camping of Corps Members and their monthly allowances. At the rate we are going, one does not need any certification in rocket science to appreciate that we are headed for trouble and that unless something is done, and urgently too, the Scheme will become unsustainable.

The greatest downside for me in the entire arrangement is the fact that the NYSC Scheme is, without any hesitation, a time wasting exercise. For the average young Nigerian, who has written their senior school certificate examination (i.e. WAEC) and university application examination (i.e. JAMB) more than once and who has spent more time than originally anticipated in the university because of strikes by different groups within the university community and other sundry issues, national service is a needless waste of a staggering one year. Even when they are serving, what do the majority of Corps Members actually do? I make bold to say: little or nothing! A good number of Corps Members don’t even visit their Places of Primary Assignment (PPA). They don’t also attend Community Development Service (CDS) Group meetings. Majority only show up in the first week of each month in order to payroll. This is no speculation. If in doubt, ask any honest Corps Member. We cannot continue to waste the prime of our young people as a nation on the altar of an illusory national unity. The poignant part of it all is that most of our young people can hardly compete in a global community where people get their doctorates in their twenties, for instance, when so many irrelevancies are stacked against them.

And this leads me to how the scheme is entrenching corruption in the public service of the country. As I have alluded to in the preceding paragraph, the majority of Corps Members don’t participate in most activities organised by the managers of the Scheme and yet they still get their Certificates of National Service (i.e. Discharge Certificates). And the question is asked: how is this possible? Well, it is quite straightforward, really. There is a satanic collaboration between these offending Corps Members and some of the staff of the Scheme. It has been said that these staff collect a percentage of either the federal or state allowance paid to the Corps Members in order to cover up for them and supply them with vital information. And then I think aloud, can a system as corrupt as this achieve anything worthwhile? I really doubt it.
Of serious concern to most families is how the Scheme is exposing Corps Members, whom so much have been invested in, to grave danger and unnecessary risks. Young graduates in the name of national service are sent to volatile parts of the country and places that they have little or no knowledge of. The implication of this is that these young people are by this arrangement deliberately stationed in harm’s way. Or how do we expect very young people who have not left their part of the country before to be able to find their way around in the event of a civil unrest in their areas of deployment and posting? This is not to mention the fact that these young Nigerians become too self-conscious in a way that is detrimental to their overall wellbeing. The reason is simply that they don’t or can’t understand the language spoken or the cultural practices of their host communities. That is to say, they just can’t fit in! In any case, is a few months an adequate period to do so?

In fact, one can’t successfully conclude any discussion on the security of Corps Members without making reference to the very cruel way in which tens of them were murdered in the aftermath of the 2011 general elections. In a very bizarre twist, these young citizens of Nigeria were gruesomely killed when they were supposedly on national service – contributing their own modest quota to the development of the fatherland. How ironic! Unfortunately, headlines of Corps Members being killed as a result of religious, ethnic and political violence and other sad tales continue to feature in the media. And what do the authorities do? They feign ignorance or quite frankly are unable to address the issue and they thereby leave a good number of these bereaved families – who find it very difficult accessing the much publicised compensation – in agony. Should we continue to unnecessarily risk the lives of the future of our country? I say an emphatic no!

At the heart of the matter then is: what can we do to rescue the Scheme? Is there a chance for reform? Well, after a time of deep reflection, it now appears to me that integrating Nigeria and uniting its people can no longer be successfully achieved by means of the Scheme. Even if that were possible, it is now too costly to continue to do so! This is for the simple reason that the essence of the Scheme, its soul, has long been banished to far-flung regions. Any attempt at reform will, in my view, amount to adding a drop of water in an ocean – an exercise in futility! Therefore, the NYSC Scheme must be suspended. No! It should be scrapped altogether. There are more cost effective ways of achieving the objective for which the Scheme was originally established – and this is assuming that it can really be achieved. And yes, I don’t need any sermonising on how the scrapping of the Scheme will result in job losses and the likes. As I have always argued, everything will balance out!

Respectfully,
@ODNEsq.

PAVE

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She was choking.
If she didn’t try to save herself she would die in no time.
She wasn’t afraid of dying.
No she had given up living many years ago and had just existed, but that was before she had met Shayo. Shayo was a Sanguine to the core, she flirted with life with gay abandon.
Lola on the other hand was Melancholic and had always been referred to as a nerd.

Nigerian Slim Girl

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* We’re always cold The harmattan and rainy season is unfavourable on us. Without much fat on our bones, we’re always shivering no matter the heavy clothes we put on.

* We always get reminded that we’re skinny – People always feel the need to let us know we’re skinny, as if we don’t already know. Like they just HAVE to break the news to us in case we forgot. Our family members are most guilty of that..

* Our pants get baggy midday and in the flap – Sometimes we put on some certain form of clothing but due to the stretching of the fabric, our pants are wide-leg by noon and the flap is stretched in a manner that makes it seems we have a p*ni*.
This makes me sad. How’d my jeans get 2 sizes bigger in 6 hours?? Then we have to wash the pants to get them back tight. And the cycle repeats itself.

* We make terrible cuddle buddies – Lack of meat on our bones make certain joints and parts of us sharp like a knife, like elbows, knees and chins. Have you ever placed your head on his chest and he goes “Jesus CHRIST! You just stabbed me with your cheek bone.”

* Gusts of winds are dangerous – Have you ever had to battle a strong gust of wind that almost swept you into traffic? And then when it’s raining, it becomes a struggle to stay standing with an umbrella on a rainy windy day. We have to hold our umbrella with both hands! Unless you find a pole or something heavy to hang on to, our umbrella tends to turns inside out.

* People pick us up to test their strength – Skinny girls get picked up randomly by people who want to see how strong they are. Some guys would no longer go to the gym to carry weight when they have a skinny neighbour next door.

* We can’t give blood – We want to do good in the world and give back sometimes. So when we go to donate blood, we often get met with side-eyes from doctors who feel we missed our direction.

* We have to prove to folks that we eat – The assumption that you have an eating disorder, as if looks can diagnose mental health. People ask us countless times “Do you eat?” We feel pressured to clean our plates when we eat with others. When we don’t, people around us say, “This is why you have refused to add weight!.”

* We can’t exercise without being judged – We tell people that we want to start exercising because it’s healthy and they look at us up and down as if we are mad.
And then they ask the dreaded question, “Do you want to disappear?”

*Always. Needing. Belt Or our jeans would never fit. We even need belt with leggings.

*Wearing the same size bra you wore in junior secondary school. It’s every annoying that we’ve been wearing the same bra size since JSS2.

*You ALWAYS have to add more holes to your belts. We always need custom made holes in our belts because the last hole is never tight enough!

Sellers at Ikeja under bridge keep harassing us. To come in from ‘brrreast and nyash drugs’ and those in Yaba harassing us to buy butt pads and foam bra when we walk past.

The conductor of the bus ALWAYS makes us sit on a stool between the driver’s seat and first passenger seat because he feels we don’t need a lotta space. By the time we get to our destination, we’ve been assaulted by the hardness of the chair. WICKEDNESS!

*No songs about us. Nigerian musicians never EVER sings songs about how hot skinny girls are. Only how hot curvy girls are.
You’ll never hear lyrics like, “I like the way she dey whine her flat nyash. Her agbalumo b00bs dey make my head kolo. I like the way everybody just dey turn as she dey waka with that her tiny laps. Her small waist dey do me strong thing oh. Baby be mine and I go protect you from breeze.”

There are COUNTLESS skinny girl problems! Which ones did I miss?

#NigerianSlimGirl

Fulani Immanuel: Guest Writer

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THE LEADERS WHO CONTRIBUTE TO A DILAPIDATED NIGERIA, THE GENERATION THAT CAN REBUILD IT.
A dilapidated Nigeria is a country in shambles, a country at the brink of total disrepair. In the year 1960, the first day of October, Nigeria officially gained independence from Great Britain. That fateful day would signify that henceforth she would make her own decisions and suffer from its consequent results be it negative. As defined by the English Dictionary, App version 2.0; dilapidated is said to mean, “Falling into a state of disrepair and deterioration, especially through neglect.” Then it is necessary to ask if the country as fallen into a state of disrepair, but is obvious because the problem of corruption and bribery, unemployment, economic recession, moral decadence, lack of electricity supply, insecurity and a host of others exist in the country. It is also important to know how we got ourselves into this mess.
The Nigeria today is a country in anomaly, though blessed with vast minerals and human resources, good weather and climatic conditions, well-educated individuals, and lots more, She is in a really bad condition and this is characterised by poor education, inferior transport system, encouragement of corrupt practises and bribery, worsened social condition of the average man living in the country, reduced national income, very high and poor living condition, increased unemployment, squalor, poverty, inequality in rights and treatment of the citizens which defeats the definition of democracy, and utter negligence to what matters. A retired general in the Nigerian army, in his remarks on Nigeria said, “Nigeria is a country resolutely marching forward with her heads backward.”
A leader is one who represents a group of people (those who officially represent group of people. i.e. through voting or consensus, and those officially appointed to oversee particular functions that concern the welfare and interest of the state.) A country is guided and represented by a number of individuals, who are referred to as leaders; these leaders make rules and regulations, define policies, manage the affairs of the state and are involved in activities concerned with the welfare of the general populace. However, ineffective decisions, unrealistic policies, selfish ambitions, greed, dereliction and inattention to what really matters on the part of these leaders will consequentially result into the gradual collapse of the country. It will be futile to name particular leaders who have contributed to the present state of the country, but vital to take note of the government which comprise of this leaders. One can categorically approximate that the state leaders since the independence as failed. Then, is there still left a blight of hope? They haven’t only successfully failed in the giving a better country, but have killed the hope of having one.
Hence, why? It is easy then to say that with the present conditions of the country, she has leaders who have no plan to lead people but to pursue their own selfish end. This is a survival instinct that has developed in virtually all Nigerians because of the consistent deterioration of the country. So, reports of officials siphoning government revenue is no news as the citizens feel they are trying to feed their nuclear and extended family, which, according to her newly developed survival philosophy, is his first priority, then comes the country. What a life!
Correspondingly, another reason to this rundown is the lack of patriotic citizens in the country; mostly everyone is encumbered with their own problems and don’t consider or share in the burdens of others. Then why won’t we suffer neglect?
Now, with this mind, who then will rebuild Nigeria from its ruins? Who are the rebuilding generation? A generation is all the people who were born at a particular period of time, a single stage in history, also is a group of people of similar age involved in a particular activity. The rebuilding generation are group of individuals with holistically established ideologies, principles, and philosophies. They are group of people with unwavering determination to achieve their goals while consequently affecting their environment positively. The rebuilding generation must possess certain leadership qualities, defined goals and objectives undeterred by external influence or traditional customs and hard-headedness.
Furthermore, Rebuilding means building or putting things together again that was scattered, and to make something or somebody complete or strong again. A lot has been actually ruined and compromised; values, customs and traditions of various tribes have steadily gone down the drain. How long it will take does in fact matters. But with such a distinct and well-defined generation having the best interest of the country at heart, policy and decision making wouldn’t much take time.
However, this generation can appear in a whim, this group or set of people can be achieved through providing quality education, positive use of the social media, providing the enabling environment for them to develop i.e. installing infrastructures and making policies for the future, organising seminars and conference that emphasize leadership, patriotism, social interaction, and nationalism. This approach is not the burden of the government but everyone.
Conclusively, with a generation of founded ideologies and established philosophies not influenced by traditional values, Nigeria will get back to prosperity; this however begins with everyone having the awareness of the present state of the country and the intentionality to make change happen.

Its Still a Man’s World Out here

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Men are allowed to be Wolverine. While women are expected to grow hair only on their head. Tomorrow, it’s either Etcetera, Lynxx or some random Twitter bully dishing out tips on how ladies should shave the legs, privates, belly and armpits.
Yet these men practice opposite of what they preach. Hardly would you see any man without a savannah forest on his armpit. They think it’s manly and sexy.
And the only places men have neat kini are in p0rn movies.

No wet dreams for women. It’s unfair that men’s version of period is what is biologically referred to as wet dreams. From what I understand, wet dreams happens when they orgasm in their dreams. If a woman experiences same, she’s bundled to a prayer house to be delivered of spiritual husband.

No painful periods for men. Men can keep their wet dreams but nothing would give me more joy than seeing men having a wet dreams cycle.
Let me be more precise. I mean the sort of heavy wet dreams stretching up to one week in a month, and nights that comes with waist pain, abdominal pain and wet dreams cramps.
Ladies, imagine walking into a store to buy a random item and seeing men shopping for Always Ultra for men, Gentlemen Care & co for their wet nightmare. Bliss!

It’s okay for men to be pregnant with food. A big tummy is acceptable for a man. But a woman? Even after 5 set of twins, you are expected to remain sissy. Now the new trend is to lose pregnancy weight 7 days after childbirth.
Do I need to go in on the pressure to keep every part of the body from sagging?
From the tummy, thighs and breasts. And even after wearing a N30,000 bra after childbirth to delay sagginess so society can keep quiet, our husbands would still come at night to massage everything like he’s kneading flour for bread and the next morning, breasts are back to saggy baggy.
And when are we going to start seeing waist trainers for ‘pregnant men’ in the market? When?

A virgin man is an abomination. But a woman is termed as promiscuous if she’s had a body count of two.
A man would spend many years of his life engaging in insert and discharge with all manner of ladies in different continents until it’s time to marry at 42.
He’s celebrated as a hero when he returns to the village to pick a bride from a set of 21 year old virgins. Don’t you watch Nollywood movies?
The above reason is why I shut my windows and doors whenever I sing Beyonce’s ‘Who run the world’ .Who am I deceiving?

A woman can’t even be dirty in peace. We are told to wash our kini three times a day.
We are told to bath twice a day.
We are encouraged to change undies twice a day.
We are told to wipe down there with baby wipes when we pee even when we pee 36 times a day.
Today it’s an article for women to wash from front to back; Tomorrow, its another health article to wash vertically and horizontally, to place the shower head on the ground and spread our legs over it while the warm water flows past our cervix and flushes every yamayama, to avoid any form of toilet soap while washing, to use liquid warm water with two drops of vag1na tightening liquid. Haba?
Brother nodding at this advice, when will you wash that boxers you’ve been wearing for three weeks?

Uncle Gwegs are not legally recognized in Nigeria . In this society of ours, marriage is termed as the ultimate achievement for a woman.
Pastors would spend 15 minutes praying for ladies to meet their Mr Right and a short 56 seconds prayer for men to meet their Miss Right.
Pastor would say, “There are 28 girls in the house weeping for a husband to call their own. Run now to the altar and receive it!”, and 88 of us would run straight to the altar crying. No one ever gets to call out the Uncle Gwegs in the house because marriage is not really a problem for men!!!
Today, it’s a supernatural singles breakthrough programme designed for women.
If only unmarried men go through half the pressure heaped on unmarried ladies. If a woman misbehaves, she is threatened with, “No man will put you inside house with that attitude.”
Sometimes when a man annoys me, I want to say, “No woman would follow you inside house with that attitude” but I hold my peace when I realise my statement would never make sense. It’s a man’s world after all. Or is it not?


#NaijaSingleLady

‘The Peter Pan Syndrome’

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‘The Peter Pan Syndrome’
Dale Cartridge

I’m not sure when men decided that 30 was the new 15. When men thought it was better to remain independent than making a commitment to another. When men we’re courageous in business and battle but afraid to be fathers. I’m not sure when video games and “guy night” became more important than tee-ball and date night. When 4 year relationships weren’t long enough for a proposal. When staying out became cooler than showing up. I’m not sure when men became boys.
Our culture has a boy problem. In Italy, they call it Peter Pan Syndrome. I call it immaturity and selfishness. Men so focused on their dreams, their visions, and their desires they find themselves wealthy, known, and alone.
The adult world doesn’t need more boys. We need men who will grow up, know up, and show up. Who will fight for romance and commit quickly and stay indefinitely. To turn their hearts toward children and work to raise them well. To be friends who grow friends. Not just by compliments, but accountability and conviction. We need more men.
We need more men of integrity and character. Those who will hold a moral code and not compromise it. Those who love women, treat them as they would their own daughters and lead them when everything doesn’t make sense… They would lead. We need more men.
I’m a man. And I’m proud of that.
#‎EveryPostALesson‬ #‎DaleyWisdom‬
– Dale Partridge

In the Case of A Burst Tyre

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WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU HAVE A TYRE BLOWOUT

In the event of the unfortunate death of Nigeria’s minister of state for labour due to an accident occasioned by a tyre blowout and the fact that in Nigeria now-a-days, we have many untrained drivers, it has become pertinent for me to write this.

There are 6 simple steps to take within a maximum of 2 minutes and you will be safe, these by the grace of God I have been familiar with for decades. They are as follow:

(1) DON’T PANIC in the event of a blowout, calm yourself down fast because your car will start misbehaving and you need to take charge.

(2) Hold FIRMLY to your steering wheel with both hand, NO VIGOROUS TURNING, as you concentrate on the road and your mirrors, in seconds study the movement pattern of the car. Your car will naturally swerve to the direction of the burst tyre.

(3) Take off your foot from the accelerator, DON’T EVER ATTEMPT TO PRESS THE BRAKES, IF YOU DO, YOU HAVE A 95% CHANCE OF A SOMERSAULT. The car will decelerate gradually while you concentrate on the road to avoid collision with any other road user.

(4) Disengage the gears of the car by shifting to neutral (N) as you still maintain a firm grip on the sheering wheel and put your eyes on the road.

(5) After a while depending on your initial speed, your car come to a speed less than 60km/h when it is now safe to GRADUALLY apply the brakes and navigate to the side walk

(6) Ultimately, it is now safe to put the car to a complete stop and turn off the engine. You have just saved yourself and passengers from untimely death.

NOTE:
Of course, everyone in the car will be in a panic mode BUT this is NOT THE TIME TO LISTEN TO THEM, it is TIME TO CONCENTRATE.

Please, don’t just read, share on your page and copy to other platforms, you may just be about to save a life.

Wait! Just before you say ‘Yes’

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The rate at which marriages collapse now is assuming a social symbol status in our society. In few years time, people will be throwing divorce parties & invite friends & well-wishers to celebrate their divorce anniversaries; they will choose aso-ebi, hire a hall and popular musicians. Even a question like “So when are you getting divorced?” will become common. If u know u can’t handle the weight & pressures of marriage, please remain single. If u don’t know what marriage is all about, please remain single until u do. If u are getting married because of the things u desire or hope to gain from the other person please remain single. If u know u can’t be faithful, remain single. If u can’t endure insults from one another, pls remain single. If u can’t forgive one another’s wrongs, pls remain single. If u can’t place ur spouse above every other human being, pls remain single! Don’t get married out of desperation. If u desire a successful home, but ur choice of friends are those whose marriages have collapsed. Its simple – they’ll make u drink from their poisoned chalice. Once that happens, ur marriage is in a process of dying a slow death. Be very mindful of where you go for advice.
Guys, if u know u can’t put ur wife ahead ur ego, pls remain single till u mature. There’s no way u can abandon the care of ur family at the expense of your lifestyle. They are your priority & everything else including u comes last. You are the teacher, the guide, the bodyguard, the spiritual leader, the role model – u are not a deity. So don’t expect to be worshipped. You need respect, earn it by being responsible.
Ladies, if u know you can’t be submissive please don’t go into marriage so you’re not turned to a punch bag! If u know u can’t stand being corrected, please remain single.
Ladies check ur domestic scorecard – if ur score is zero, please stay in ur parents’ house! Ladies & gentlemen, marriage isn’t,& won’t be a bed of roses, understand the dynamics.

My Terrible Fear.

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I’m scared of what marriage does to beautiful friendships.
I’m scared of what marriage does to great bodies.
I’m terribly scared of what marriage does to strong christians.
But I’m more scared of what staying alone for the rest of my life would be like.
«~»
#‎Alero_Ajems‬.

The Common Sense Revolution

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‘The Common Sense Revolution’
By: Alero Ajems.

Now Ben Murray Bruce, isn’t my favourite Tweet inspirator, I need you to understand that before I proceed. But I like him.
I like the fact that he can actually become something more normal than a Nigerian Senator; that he can actually be, a Citizen.
Its rare that we see things like this.
A Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, coming to tweeter to share his concerns, to share his fears, to voice his hope; the hope of the everyday Citizen of Nigeria.
I do not deny that they maybe biased, that they may be selfish; afterall he is human and like all humans, made with flaws.
But I am more concerned about the fact that they might somehow be truthfully fears, that they just might be Privileged hopes, that somehow, in all his provisions, he has empathy enough to be concerned about the future and direction of this Country, Nigeria.
And for these reasons I have come to look at ‘The Common Sense Revolution’ as not just a naïve pet project of a Senator of Nigeria, but a sequence of words, expressings the very heart of a man.
A man who like you and me, is in Nigeria and living the pains and griefs in his own constructural way which we may not understand but in its path existent.
I would like to end on this note;
Let us all try our words, say them out, get the commonsense out there, put our voices on the Records of time, so that if they will pretend to not see, they cannot pretend to mot hear. And if they will; then we shall know that we have tried.
Thank you.

Falsified Life

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“The Falsified Life”
By: Alero Ajems
~~~
“I don’t have it!”
She stares at you strangely than hurt and walkes away hurriedly.
Sonja is your younger sister, she follows you around all the time, she looks up to you like a role model. The hopes in her eyes when your mum tells her that she is beginning to resemble you too much scares you sometimes, makes you realise you wish no one hopes for your life. But you smile at her and shrug, when she smiles at you and winks, that conspiratory wink that says more than the smile. Makes you realise she finds that a compliment.
At age 23 and already halfway done with your masters in Clinical Psychology and the first and only graduate in the house to do a professional course, you understand why she feels that way. You also understand why you do not feel that way.
why recently you have begun to find it difficult to wake up in the mornings to go to the Big hospital you worked in.
why you suddenly didn’t like listening to patients describe how they think their fear of their new neighbor who they think is rearing rats is the reason they have a fever.
You wanted to slap them, you wanted to tell them that their neighbours didn’t rear rats, that the fact that they felt they were not good enough for their estate class didn’t mean they had rats in their house as pets. But you smile and help them realise that its just an anxiety disorder, and that if they insist you could give them something for the high temperature, but that they were fine.
What, with all the balanced diet they followed and good exercises they did and the clean environment they lived in, they couldn’t possibly have fever.
You had snapped at Sonja today out of wearied patience over a missing note. But you didn’t make the move to beg her, you would call her later and give her a catalogue of the finest meals to diet on and that would solve the anger. It was also something you had begun doing lately, bribery and not apology. It was not something you liked either, but it was something you had begun to accept.
~~~
#‎Alero_Ajems‬

Half of A Whole

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‘Half of A Whole’
By: Alero Ajems
~~~
She didn’t want to be manipulative anymore. She knew now why she had never quite found anyone attractive or mesmerizing enough to fall so hard for. To be one with. To become whole. To complete.
Some people, she realized were halves of a whole and when they met their other halves, they clicked and fitted perfectly, winding up in love and totally sure, they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with each other.
And…
Some others, she realised were just whole. Complete. One. They had no parts emptied or disintegrated and therefore only needed to find someone they could connect with. Share interests. Someone they could be with. It was never about completing each other. It was simply about living. Existing. Leading to immortality, these people she realised were very rare and most times never did quite understand themselves better enough to know what they needed and not what society expected from them.
«~»
‘But Jesus said “Not everyone is mature enough to live a married life. It requires a certain aptitude and grace. Marriage isn’t for everyone. Some from birth seemingly never give marriage a thought. Others never get asked- or accepted. And some decide not to get married for kingdom reasons. But if you’re capable of growing into the largeness of marriage, do it”…’
This verse is taken from Matthew 19:11-12, and the translation is fro The Message Bible.

The Sound of Happiness

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Impossible is the word you use whenever he told you, you amaze him.
You rolled your eyes at him when he found your Tomboyish pranks amusing.
“You really are crazy” you told him one day.
“You have to be, if you love me the way you do”
All he did was smile that confident lazy smile he always used when around you and shrug.
But you know you are happy about his overlooking of your many flaws, the fact that he was that swooned over you. You didn’t mind that kind of crazy, infact you revelled in it.
So you hold his hand look into his eyes and say:
“I guess I am a bit crazy myself”
He looks at you for a long time, in that soul searching way he does and then throws his head back and laughs, really laughs. And you find that you love that laugh too, the rich sound deep from his belly.
it was, you found to your astonishment the sound of Happiness. Pure Crazy Happiness.
•~•
#‎Jan_23_2016‬

An Angry Letter to Nigerian Youths.

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Angry Letter to the Nigerian Youth
By Bayo Adeyinka

My dear Nigerian Youth,
I am very angry and that is why I am addressing you. You are the source of my anger and I want to vent my spleen- maybe not at you directly- but at the arrogance of your ignorance. Of all nations of the world, you are to be most pitied. Do you still wonder what you have done?
You don’t have an Ivy League education but with the little below-standard education you got, all you could do with it is to write a petition against someone with the benefit of an Ivy League education. You can’t even run your personal economy as you’re almost always and perpetually broke yet you arrogate to yourself superior knowledge about the nation’s economy.
You sit in front of a computer and rant all day through social media but with every click, you make money- not for yourself- but for Mark Zuckerberg. With every megabyte of data you spend complaining and maligning, you make stupendous bucks for Etisalat, Glo and Airtel.
Over the next two years, the number of Nigerian millionaires will jump by 47% but most likely you will not be among because you are too busy whining and complaining. And yet about 60% of Nigeria’s 170m population are below 35 years. Oh, what a waste!
By the way, Mark Zuckerberg was 19 when he started facebook. Africa’s youngest billionaire, Ashish Thakkar, is 31. He escaped from the Rwandan genocide and relocated to Uganda where he started an IT business. Collin Thornton, who made his millions by fixing bad computers and setting up Dial-a-Nerd, is 35. Adam Horowitz, an 18-year-old entrepreneur, started 30 websites in 3 years before he became successful.
The only thing you have ever started is an online petition. Have you heard of Jason Njoku? He’s 33 and the founder of Iroko TV. He received $8m investment into his company just a few years ago. What he does? Sharing the same Nollywood films that you spend hours to watch online. He didn’t just hang around waiting for Buhari to make something happen or blaming Jonathan for not making anything happen.
Kamal Budhabhatti was deported from Kenya but while on the flight, he thought of the opportunities in Kenya. He found his way back after 6 months and today his company is valued at $30m. He’s 36. Have you heard of Chinedu Echeruo? Apple just paid $1b for his app. He’s a Nigerian like you and all he did was attempt to fix a problem.
But for you, the only thing you attempt to fix are your nails- and your hairdo! Chinedu moved to New York in 1995 and found it difficult to navigate the city with ease so he developed HopStop to fix the problem. Stop listing all the problems- we know them already but what are you doing about them?
You are in your 40s and you still sag your trousers.
Of course you know Linda Ikeji. You’ve spent hundreds of hours on her blog laughing and commenting while she smiles her way to the bank. She’s just built a house for her father in the village- just by you clicking on her gossip and sharing. Your day is not complete without a stop by at her blog. She was as broke as you are but she turned a hobby into a business. Are you that void of understanding?
You think the politicians have any regard for you? That is why I referred to the arrogance of your ignorance at the beginning of this diatribe. You have a false estimation of yourself. You have an over bloated ego. You are only as good as an election ticket- pure and simple.
You are only good to used and discarded like a used ballot paper. Who keeps a used ballot paper anyway? That is why they only remember you every four years. You are like a menstrual pad that is only useful during the menstrual period. Are you hurt? Okay, let me help you. Have you heard of Prof Olusola Adeyeye before?
He is a Senator of the Federal Republic at the moment. But before he became a senator, he was popular on facebook. Even more popular than so many latter day facebookivists. I was one of his many followers. He put up posts after posts and pander to populist thinking. Then he was elected and one of the first things he did was to deactivate his facebook account. Yes, you read me right. Deactivate. How many times do you still see El-Rufai’s tweets? No longer regular? That is how it will dwindle until he disappears totally. I’m not limiting it to the aforementioned alone and this is not about any party. They are all the same.
Yet you falsely believe your future is in the hands of one politician. You will grow grey hair with that belief. And by the time you wise up, you’re on your way to the grave- not with a life expectancy of less than 60 years in this clime. Can you see you have wasted your time? And possibly your life? See, people have been complaining since independence. And they will still complain in 4 years. Will you be among them?
I agree with my friend who said Nigerian youth need mental detoxification. And maybe I should add that you need a brain transplant. Let me give you another example. I’ve watched you try to pull some people down when you don’t like their face- or their comments. You report them to facebook. And they get pulled down. Momentarily. Just momentarily.
Do you know why? Facebook knows those people draw traffic. Their posts get huge numbers of comments. And with every comment and click, someone is making money. Will you allow your best customers to leave? That is why though facebook pulled down Adeyinka Grandson’s page, he was given a facebook fan page in return. Yes, a fan page. You need to get a job and you need to get a life. There is life away from facebook or social media.
If you’re not making money from social media and you sleep on it, you’re merely existing- you’re not living. I have seen some of you take selfies and pose in all manner of ways as you paste your photos on social media. Are you a photographer or are you selling something that we don’t know? You’re unemployed because you’re unemployable. You don’t have skills. Sorry, the major skill you have is that of pointing out the problems and debating about them. That’s a no brainer! You can’t even diagnose the problems properly.
You think Ngozi Okonjo- Iweala is your problem? You are a self-inflicted problem. You are afflicted with yourself and by yourself. If you’re looking for the reason why you are the way you are- look no further than your mirror. Instead of occupying Nigeria, you should occupy your brain. The only witch chasing you from your village is you. It’s time to stop bewitching yourself.
Stop whining about lack of electricity or fuel. Do something about it. Every adversity has a seed of opportunity embedded in it. Create something. Invent something. Start something. Read up a book. Write a book. Take advantage of the present situation. Nigeria is a huge market. Nigeria is a virgin market. Waiting for you. Unleash yourself. Release your passion. Follow your potential. Invent your way to prosperity. Stop waiting for government- government only needs you when they need your taxes. Don’t depend on welfare. People who depend on welfare don’t fare well.
You think you lack capital? No, the problem is not lack of capital but lack of ideas. Just today, two men stepped into my wife’s office selling the new portraits of Buhari and Osinbajo. That’s someone grabbing an opportunity and seizing the moment. I have a friend who started out by offering after-school lessons to kids on her street- now she has a school.
I know a lady who was indigent and self-sponsored on campus. Each night, she soaked beans and made ‘moin-moin’ in the morning for sale on campus. I bought out of the moin moin as well as some other students and that was how she paid her way through University. Not prostitution. Have you heard of Ayodeji Megbope? She started her business with the last N1,000 she had on her by making moin moin. She is the CEO of No Leftovers.
I have shared the story of ‘Akara Ayo’ and invited him to talk to us before. He left his banking job to start a business frying Akara (bean cake) in Ibadan. And added some innovation to it.
Start a snail farm. You can start it with less than N100,000. I started it with nothing- I just picked up snails in my compound and raised them. In a couple of months, I had raised close to a thousand. You have a car and you are complaining you don’t have a job? Convert it for car hire. Take it to the airports and see how people will hire it for the day. Liase with good hotels and place it at their disposal. I met a young man in Calabar who charges N1,500 per hour for the use of his car. There is something in your hand that can give you the future you want. The best moment to start is now.
For God’s sake, just do something!
NB: This is just an article to stir up and challenge people and it’s intention is not derogatory in any form.

You Deserve Better!

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To the Single Ladies out there:

You are worth being committed to, and the problems he has are inner issues that he needs to solve himself.
Just remember that its not your responsibility to fix a broken man. Its not worth your time, your effort, your love or your tears. If he is not willing to fix himself for you, there is nothing more to do than to just walk away and move beyond his selfish, immature, and ultimately abusive behavior. Not all men are broken, but you have to believe you deserve better.

#‎Jan_19_2016‬

The Fact about Relationships

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When, as a mother of two young children in her early thirties, she has largely abandoned her writing, he successfully urges her to take it up again. Nino praises her generously: “What I envy most is your ability as a narrator,” he tells her. Because Elena believes in Nino, in his judgment, his admiration has weight.

For a time, anyway. Over the course of years, Elena’s estimation of Nino’s abilities wanes. His ideas become predictable; she finds his desire to be “politically surprising” distasteful. She sees the careerism and pettiness underneath his charming exterior: “He seemed . . . sensitive to the approval of those who had authority and ready to catch out, or even, at times, humiliate out of envy, those who did not yet have enough of it.” These observations coincide with the lessening of her once-overpowering love for him. Even his praise leaves her cold: “I summarized a plot and characters that I was sketching out and he said, Great, very intelligent. But he didn’t convince me, I didn’t believe him.”

This type of attention to a lover’s intelligence—and to those facets of character that fall under the auspices of intelligence and factor into respect, such as fairness, integrity, magnanimity, and sensitivity—is consistent with the way women novelists have long written about love. For as long as novels have been written, heroines in books by women have studied their beloveds’ minds with a methodical, dispassionate eye. The ideal mate, for Jane Austen’s heroines, for Charlotte Brontë’s, for George Eliot’s, is someone intelligent enough to appreciate fully and respond deeply to their own intelligence, a partner for whom they feel not only desire but a sense of kinship, of intellectual and moral equality.

A link between love and respect hardly seems like a unique or daring proposition—until we consider that so many male authors have tended to think about love very differently. Straight male authors devote far less energy to considering the intelligence of their heroes’ female love interests; instead, they tend to emphasize visceral attraction and feelings.

‘The NewYorker’

If You Have Lost Focus

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Distracted people are sometimes the most creative. Maybe you can pair with someone that has a bit more focus, and work off and with that person’s energy…
I want to add, you don’t have to LOSE your passion. In fact, I honestly wish I could find a new passion…it’s just realizing that as passionate as you are about something, sometimes (most times) it’s not going to pay the bills. Find a job you at least like (if not love), which moves your life forward, is what it’s all about! Getting a job that isn’t close to what you are passionate about can help move that passion forward, and enable you to fullfil that passion. But you can’t always rely on getting that “dream job”. For those that have – more power to you! But that isn’t how it always works.
There will always be someone faster than you, someone richer, someone you want to be. That person could be a stumbling block for you or an inspiration. Like the top comment says, it takes more than self-worth to make a dream happen. It takes hard, hard work, even when it seems that some did not have to work as others. You don’t know their struggle, and they don’t know yours.

I use quotes from Frank Herbert’s Dune to inspire me to improve and evolve. Here are a few I just found.

There should be a science of discontent. People need hard times to develop psychic muscles. — Muad’Dib

“Highly organized research is guaranteed to produce nothing new.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

Confine yourself to observing and you always miss the point of your life. The object can be stated this way: Live the best life you can. Life is a game whose rules you learn if you leap into it and play it to the hilt. Otherwise, you are caught off balance, continually surprised by the shifting play. Non-players often whine and complain that luck always passes them by. They refuse to see that they can create some of their own luck.
Darwi Odrade – Chapterhouse: Dune.

I’d rather Peace than Justice

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What the majority never understand is the truth that on all fronts, peace is superior to justice, and while there are moments when justice is the experience to define meaning, it is certain that in the relationships dearest to each of us, we trade our collective peace when we fight for rights and insist on justice.
The fight for justice is always a winnable engagement,…we may always win the agitation for correctness. Yet, so marriages have fought for so much justice they have no peace left…and great friendships have gone sour for same. We must always ask which deserves higher premium between correctness and progress.
I am running towards 50, but it took me 40 years of existence and 9 years into the marriage experience to realize that I would rather be at peace than be right. As long as it depends on me…I will be at peace with the persons everywhere…it is a human law.


#Olakunle_A_Soriyan.

The Fear

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‘The Fear’
By: Alero Ajems

‘Will you marry me?”
He watched the emotions play on her face. Surprise. Elation. Good because he had been scared she would refuse, all with her avoidance of the ‘M’ word. He looked at her fingers, at her ring finger and imagined his diamond ring sitting there.
He was still gripping her hands and trying to get the ring from his breast pocket when she tugged to free her hand from his.
“No,…” She said in a small whisper.
“What did you say?”
“No! No! I can’t be a wife.” She said and got up pacing.
He was almost angry and confused. What the hell was wrong with her, blowing hot and cold at intervals. He wanted to walk away until she met his eyes and he saw it.
In all his life, he had never seen pupils as dilated as hers was now, and that’s when it struck him. She had said ‘I can’t be a wife’ not ‘I can’t be your wife’. She was scared, but of what?
“I’m sorry, Rufus, very sorry” and then she bolted out the door.

The Time Commitment

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“To measure the value he places on your relationship, don’t count the dollars and cents…add up the hours and minutes. You see, as a man, he can spend money because he knows that as a man, he can make that money back. But, his time…his time he can never get back. Remember, it’s the time you spend together that creates the bond, not the money that’s spent. I understand that in some cultures, the man is the primary provider for the household…I understand; however, that financial obligation should not serve as a substitute for the emotional and mental obligation he has to you, as the good woman, within the household.” -Mr. Amari Soul

My 2015 theme songs.

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‘My 2015 theme Songs’
By: Alero Ajems

Katy Perry — Unconditionally
Adele — Hello
Omawunmi — Hello (Cover)
Tasha Cobbs — Break every chain
Donnie Mcclurkin — I came for deliverance
Timi Dakolo — Iyawo Mi
Carrie Underwood — Jesus take the wheel
Carrie Underwood — Lessons Learned
Carrie Underwood — Something in the water
Carrie Underwood — Blown away
Nicki Minaj — Fly
Whitney Houston — I have nothing
Toni Braxton — Yesterday
Toni Braxton — Hurt You
Anberlin — Take me as you found me
Marvin Sapp — You are God alone
Robin Thicke — Put me back together
Moses Hogan — Elijah Rock
Asa — Eyo.

These songs were my low down and high ups for 2015.
I loved every one of them.

The Goal of the NYSC

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The purpose of the scheme is primarily to inculcate in Nigerian Youths the spirit of selfless service to the community, and to emphasize the spirit of oneness and brotherhood of all Nigerians, irrespective of cultural or social background. The history of our country since independence has clearly indicated the need for unity amongst all our people, and demonstrated the fact that no cultural or geographical entity can exist in isolation.

National Youth Service Corp.

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‘National Youth Service Corp’
By: Alero Ajems


“Leila”
“Baba…”
“I just got off the phone with the DG of the NYSC, and he told me not to worry. You can have your service period in my office. Is that clear?”
“Yes Baba.”
“Good, go and join your mother in the kitchen. I’m very hungry.”
As she went towards the kitchen, Leila understood that she could never make any decision on her own. She had not known how much she had wanted to be posted somewhere far until her dad had told her she wouldn’t be going anywhere.
“Ah, Leila. Did your father send you to come and check about his food?” Her mum asked as she saw her come in.
“I will not be going anywhere Mama.”
Her mum stopped rinsing the dish and turned to her;
“He called the DG?”
Leila nodded.
“I’m so sorry my dear.” She said and came to hug her. “So sorry”.

The Last Fight

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Good Morning My Friends,

Mind-Set #1: You become a champion by fighting one more round. When things are tough, you fight one more round; Out of difficulties grow miracles. Sometimes adversity is what you need to face in order to break through! you have within you what it takes!

The measure of a man is the way he bears up under misfortune; Adversity causes some men to break, but causes others to break records. When it gets dark enough you can see the stars. don’t let your history interfere with your destiny! break out!

Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit. Mistakes and setbacks are a fact of life. It is the response to these that counts. Rise above the storm and you will find the sunshine.

Listen, No life ever grows great until it is focused, dedicated and disciplined! Wake up! Have a fulfilled week!!.

They Still Made It.

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THEY STILL MADE IT

“I was raped at the age of 9” – Oprah Winfrey

“I didn’t even complete my university education” – Bill Gates

“I was sexually, mentally, emotionally and verbally abused by my father as far back as I can remember until I left home at the age of eighteen” – Joyce Meyer

“I struggled academically throughout elementary school” – Dr. Ben Carson

“I used to serve tea at a shop to support my football training” – Lionel Messi

“I used to sleep on the floor in friends’ rooms, returning Coke bottles for food, money, and getting weekly free meals at a local temple” – Steve Jobs

“My teachers used to call me a failure” – PM Tony Blair

“I was in prison for 27 years” – and still became president. Nelson Mandela

“I drove taxi to finance my university education” – Mike Adenuga

The men and women above became the most renown in their various fields regardless of their initial Circumstances.

Though we pass through many difficulties in life, we should not give up because life is not about what you couldn’t do so far, it’s about what you can still do. Your humble beginning is a stepping stone not a full stop. So Don’t let your background keep your back on the ground.

Nobody and no situation can stop you from being the best you wish to be without your permission. Make up your mind to let nothing stop you. Decide not be merely LIMITLESS but to be ILLIMITABLE. Be Unstoppable!!

Be Inspired!
#copied
Happy Sunday family

The Abortion

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‘The Abortion’
By: Alero Ajems

“The Doctor will see you now” the nurse told her.
She got up from the operating table and began to dress up. The drug they gave her had helped numbed the pain somewhat, and the headaches seemed to have disappeared. She hoped it was a good sign, that nothing was wrong.
She walked out of the operating room and towards the Doctor’s office with a fear of the unknown.
“Please sit down, Yvonne” the doctor said as she entered his office.
“How do you feel now?”
“A bit better, thank you”
“I gave you an Anaesthetic, it would help dull the pain,…at least until we have got it all out”

The Divorce

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‘The Divorce’
By: Alero Ajems

As I watched the couple who I had joined in holy matrimony the day before make their way into my office I could not but see that something was wrong.
I asked them to sit, and not mincing words asked what had brought them here.
‘Pastor, I want a Divorce’ the husband said with a finality I couldn’t mistake.
I looked at the wife and saw her bend her head in shame as she sobbed quitely.
I turned back to the husband and asked why he wanted a divorce.
‘Pastor,…’ He said looking directly at me ‘…my Wife is not a Virgin’.

Responsibility & Dreams.

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Yes, You can follow your dreams, but if you choose to marry, you also have an obligation to equally support your wife/husband and family.
It is called “responsibility.”
It is never someone else’s job to carry more than their share of the load while the other is chasing the dream.
You have to function in reality, because carrying someone else gets old real quick with bills to pay and children to raise.
People usually want partners in marriage, not to be financial backers for someone else’s dream.
If they agree to it, fine.
But please don’t become a fanatic whose load your spouse has to carry, alone.

A Plea to the Populance to help save ‘Goat Peppersoup’

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This article as is rightly headed is a plea to everyone whether directly affected or indirectly affected to act quick and fast to help save the Goat Peppersoup delicacy before it goes into extinction!

I love Goat Peppersoup a lot.
Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know myself.
I simply just love it.
Now I have not eaten this delicacy in a while now and its not because I haven’t had the appetite for it.
No, rather its cause’ the enemies of Goat Peppersoup have decided to punish me!

If you eat Goat Peppersoup very well, you will know that a plate of Goat Peppersoup is not complete unless it has at least the underlisted ingredients:
1. Goat Meat.
2. Goat Intestines.
3. Uziza Seeds.
4. Okada Spice.
5. African Nutmeg.
6. Salt.
7. Pepper.
8. Seasoning.
If any of these ingredients isn’t there it just isn’t Goat Peppersoup.
It Can’t be Goat Peppersoup.

Now in times past you need nothing more than a thousand naira to prepare a pot of Goat Peppersoup, that would serve at least Six Persons.
Now, the Enemies of Goat Peppersoup have made it almost impossible to spend Two thousand Naira to prepare Goat Peppersoup.

I went to the market on Saturday and I discovered I needed three thousand five hundred to prepare Goat Peppersoup!
Its Thrice as much as before and over even!

Now I cannot abide this, and so I implore PMB to please put up this matter to the Criminal court and probe further to find out why its so.

Whoever causes such treason to Goat Peppersoup Delicacy must face the law duly and be punished, and with immediate effect.

Why should I hear that no one wants to travel to the north anymore and bring them Goats down South because of Boko Haram.
This is just another reason why Boko Haram must be destroyed and with immediate effect.

I Remain always,
Yours Faithfully,
Alero Ajems Arubi
Copyright 2015

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For the Pursuit of Happiness

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For the Pursuit of happiness, I longed for strength to persevere

For the pursuit of happiness, I held on for dear life to the love unknown.

For the pursuit of happiness, the beckoning of souls gone evaded me.

For the pursuit of happiness, I carried the burden of truth.

For the pursuit of happiness, a constant hum kept my heart beating.

For the pursuit of happiness, my soul launched forward to the horizon.

 

I would hold on to this hope,

This glimpse of something that means change,

Change for the greater good.

The consistency of heavens beckoned,

Listing for me the needs yet unmet.

Hovering above me dreams of rest.

 

Hope shall avail me this much delight,

I shall be free when all hath thus being made free,

The wholesomeness of all things equal,

Shall fashion me a kind spirit,

That prevails for all eternity.

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Edonmi

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Let me mourn this death please.

Do not forbid me.

Even when i roll upon his grave,

Leave me be.

I ask for this alone.

 

Softly cuddle me and ask no questions.

I have no desire in providing answers now.

I am in search of some myself.

The likes of which i fear i may never have.

 

Whistle sorrowful songs.

Pick me up some Nina Simone,

I need not overcome this in time.

I want to wallow in this misery.

It feeds my guilty soul.

 

Swallow me this death,

Death coming, take me with you.

What have i to live for again,

I have destroyed the very things that cared for me.

Holding onto those things that didn’t.

 

I wanted freedom, i got it.

I wanted a new life, I earned it.

I wanted success, i worked it out.

I wanted happiness, it escaped me.

Peace eroded my soul.

These i could not with all my tries achieve.

 

Aye temi bami!!

O ju mi wo aye le ibosi.

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Things Lost

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A charge I must complete.

This charge i must say naught of.

It’s secretive nature loads my heart.

I shall carry it to my grave,

This is the promise I have made.

 

Let him live, he should live please…

Whatever it takes let him see another day.

All I’m asking is for one more sunrise.

The new morning light of tomorrow.

The fading of the dark, the growing light.

 

It was because i couldn’t get there in time,

It was because of the dinner i had to attend,

It was the business meeting I had to make,

My wife was in the delivery room,

The journey was too long,

I had no idea until now.

 

How will i absolve myself,

How will the what ifs be erased.

I could have been a better father,

A loving mother i might have earned,

But i was none of these.

 

I was instead, a prodigal Sister.

The hermit that never returned home.

This sojourn now holds no taste for me,

The one thing i loved, i have lost.

Lost it all chasing anonymity.

Chasing freedom and silence

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Contempt

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Have we become so familiar?

Have our stirrings gotten so usual?

Does the value we place in our needs become worthless?

Have we degraded to absolutely nothing?

 

Hold onto me my love,

Let me hold onto you my love.

Breathe peace to my soul,

And let my calm bring you joy.

 

Let us revisit together our jolly good days,

Days when the pleasures were of discovering each other.

The wants and needs of our lives all we valued,

Our choices regarded whole.

 

Should I look forward to your coming again?

Will you hope for my laughter in season?

Are the ties that bind ‘re-knotable’?

Will we scale these storms?

 

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The Visits

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The first visit was for a cause,

We wanted intently to know each other’s spur.

The driving power behind actions we each took,

Perhaps a gleam into the oasis of each other’s mind.

 

The second visit was a choice,

One driven by interest in the workings of an urge.

This urge was not a one that was pure,

It was simply the lust of the flesh.

 

The third visit was to purge,

The consistent desire to rekindle this new flame.

A flame of interest sparked outrageously,

A never ending need to fulfil.

 

The last visit was an acceptance,

The recognition that your aim had hit.

That the longing was to be eternal,

Unending and forever strong.

 

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Ahh… Sola

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He says it all.

He won’t tale bear but you will surely know about it.

Don’t bother asking for he will surely tell

And of his own accord.

 

Regard not that as a sin against him

 

Omode..ee.. isn’t that what Bro. Dapo said?

I think he’s feminine if you ask me.

Laolu thinks he has issues.

And Sharon… well Sola is fussy you know.

 

Ahh… Sola

 

He won’t eat bone.

So serve him not chicken that has not been deboned.

He won’t touch pepper.

So do not expect his help with chilli.

 

Last born syndrome

 

He has mastered the art of demands.

Now to my grievance,

I do not want to call you Bro. Sola,

But I have to, hence this rant.

 

When he sure sees this I except ‘you no serious’.

 

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Rose of Sharon

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What should I call her?
How should I describe her?
Shall I say she is easily impressionable?
Shall I say she is a sweet naïve individual?
She is a romantic in life generally,
Always believing the best in people,
Afraid of hurting people’s feelings.

How did I get to know her you ask?
Oh how shall I start?
From the beginning or where I decide?
It will not be so dramatic to start from the beginning,
And drama is what I wish for.
Because you see,
Apparently, she enjoys drama too.

Oh that my heart and soul had never known the horrors it does,
Maybe I would have her patience and innocence.
That the stages of my life had been smooth and plain,
I would be very loving and tender.
Unabashed to be soft and calm,
To be regarded as nice.
Seriously concerned about emotions.

Oh Sharon that you would pick your words of this poetry,
That you would smile and say SERIOUSLY!
That APPARENTLY it would amuse you to know,
That I defied your threats and called it bluff,
To write to you and for you,
This simple concinnity of words
To express my enjoyment of your visit.

You are absolutely missed.

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Reprisal

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Children of loathe, how have I libelled you?

 

Children of rage, how have i irked you?

 

Children of bitterness, how have i aggrieved you?

 

This world is so small a place that this brawny negative ardour should not be encouraged.

Perhaps i have accidentally aggravated you.

Should you not call to my notice my sin and let me apologise?

Why should you hold onto this umbrage?

isn’t it too much a charge for thee to lug?

Exonerate i pray thee and be thence free in spirit.

 

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Assiduity

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Confusion darkens the horizon.

The enfilade of demons mown me down.

The zest for living long diminished.

I hanker for death, for therein doth my soul feels equanimity.

 

Forbearance says my soul,

Assiduity to felo-de-se can grant me gratification.

Death is but a path,

A dependable journey to rest.

 

Ah alas I must look on the souls yet dependent on me,

My survival determines their existence,

Would that these pretty souls had not existed,

Then would my life hath long being taken from the world.

 

I cannot rest yet.

I shall wait awhile as it is,

For in all my desire for rest for my soul,

I have a duty to these pretty souls to show them the way.

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Sombre

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Besides death what else can humble a man?

The calling of the Earth,

The sealing of Fate,

The deciding of Destiny.

 

Whispers of the grave beckons.

The callings of souls gone before,

The strength of which cannot be overthrown,

Cannot be wished off.

 

Comfort me my brethren yet alive,

Hold me close with your breathing scent,

Make me crave for the grace of a pumping heart,

Lest I forget what it feels like to breathe.

 

Would I that my life had a separate path,

That all I ever experienced were but a dream,

That the choices before me were forever…

Oh help me heavens! For i live now in blasé.

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My Creole

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‘My Creole’
By: Alero Ajems Arubi

Many people have always wondered what happened to my upbringing, when I tell them I only understand and speak English Language. I know I amaze them, that sometimes, they think I pretend, to front an image of ‘foreign-ness’, but the truth is, that is my creole; the only language I was exposed to as a child and the only language I have been really taught.
The way this came about is that, my parents; who speak different languages, never quite learned each other’s language, and English language became the shared home language therefore our mother tongue.
As you will have understood, ‘Creole’ in this passage is referring to a language that becomes the native language of a new generation of children. A setting in which this has occurred before is during the bleakest days of slavery in the western hemisphere, when efforts were made to seperate African slaves with the same native language in oerder to forestall insurrections as thus began what has been proposed as the origin of the US ‘Vernacular Black English’.
And so having understood my early days and what came to be my upbringing and mother tongue I hope I will be pardoned and maybe a little pitied about my ‘Creole’.

Passage Writing – 1

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My Masculine Temperament
By: Alero Ajems

I knew early in life that I was different from all other females in my locality.
Where girls would wish to have their hair plaited and in the recent patterns, with beautiful jewellries to adorn themselves, I sought to evade making my hair (wishing instead to have it cut like my brothers’), crying everytime my hair was being made, and cringing at jewellries (misplacing them consistently). I lived an uncommon female life. Whenever my parents were away I would join my brothers in their games of play. I lived in such a way that I was regarded by my brothers as their younger ‘brother’.
When they jumped from the balcony in front of our house, as a sport and the girls watched and cheered, I did that too. All the females in my neighbourhood knew I was masculine in my choice of character. I can still hear their derisive laughter. I lived my life doggedly because my brothers embraced me as I was. Out of reluctance and helplessness, my brothers involved me in everything they did; including playing football in their junior league. And by sheer force of their example, I learned to accept people for who they desired to be.

JACK MA: Founder of ALIBABA

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The Worst People to help are the Poor People.
Give them free, they think its a trap.
Tell them its a small investment, they’ll say can’t earn much.
Tell them to come in big, they’ll say no money.
Tell them try new things, they’ll say no experience.
Tell them its Traditional Business, they’ll say hard to do.
Tell them its a new Business Model, they’ll say MLM.
Tell them to run a shop, they’ll say no freedom.
Tell them to run new business, they’ll say no expertise.
They do have something in common;
‘They love to ask Google’,
‘Listen to friends who are as hopeless as them’,
‘They think more than a University Professor and do less than a blind man’.
Just ask them what can they do,
They won’t be able to answer you.
My Conclusion:
Instead of your heart beats faster,
Why not just act a bit faster.
Instead of just thinking about it,
Why not do something about it.
Poor People fail because of one common behaviour;
‘Their whole life is about waiting’

By: Jack Ma.

NSG: Naija Single Girl; My Stolen Phone.

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How I got that phone was a miracle. For months, I downloaded every nice photo I saw of it on the internet.
I read ALL of the reviews on GSM ARENA. I saved penny by penny and one semester’s holiday, I stayed over at an aunt’s and on the day I was due to leave, she gave me enough money that completed my savings for the phone.

I remember brimming with smiles as I walked into a branch of Slot to purchase my Nokia e-Series. That day was one of the happiest days in my life. My phone became my family, boyfriend and best friend until the original owner came for it.

3pm one sunny afternoon, I went to the salon to retouch my hair. I was the only customer in the salon and my head was completely bent while my hairdresser kept applying relaxer.
My best friend was charging in a corner. Little did I know the last time I held it in my hands was the last time I was going to see my baby, dead or alive.

I remembered my hair dresser talking to a little boy who walked in, telling him she had no hair dye to sell. I didn’t see his face but I guessed he shouldn’t be more than 14 years old judging by the sound of his voice. Immediately he left, I remembered getting up to pick my phone but it was nowhere to be found, the charger dangling by the wall.

I panicked! That mini-heart attack you get when your phone mysteriously disappears from your pocket. I quickly collected my hairdresser’s phone and dialed my number. My worst fears were confirmed. The phone was switched off.
I sat on the ground and screamed. The hairdresser said the boy that came in probably took it. She said he rode a bicycle. I got up and walked to the left end on the street, and then to the right end of the street with my hands on my head. Then I ran left, and then right, asking people if they saw a boy rode past in a bicycle. I was losing my mind.
Usually, I never leave relaxer on my hair for more than ten minutes but I cared less that day. I didn’t care about the heat, the burns or my thinning hair strands. I was running left and right on the street with relaxer on my head.

A small group of people had gathered in front of the saloon to ask my hairdresser why her customer was running mad as my hairdresser narrated the incident to them. Two girls held my hands and begged me to at least allow her wash the relaxer.

It was getting to an hour and I refused to wash the relaxer.
Anyway, I didn’t leave the saloon until 7:30pm that day cos I had no willpower to walk.

When I got to my hostel that night, I met some of my friends waiting in my corner. Bad news travel fast indeed. They knew how much I dotted on my phone and they came to register their condolences. In a bid to console me, my friends were saying, “Don’t worry, that person that stole your phone has taken all your problems in this life!!!”
I was like, “Did I tell you people I have a problem with my problems? He should bring back my phone and my problems!”

I was inconsolable

That night I cried myself to sleep. I prayed for a miracle. I wished I backed-up my photos and data, I regretted going to the saloon, I regretted having hair. The thought that an illiterate boy was going to sell my N48,000 phone for N5,000 hurt me.
I wore black that week as though I was mourning….

When I showed no signs of improvement, five of my friends rallied and contributed 2’K each for me to get a London used version of the phone. Sister gave me 10K, I had 10’K and I was able to find a guy on Twitter that sold his for me for 30k.
I still have the replacement with me and though it isn’t working properly, I smile every time I stare at it.

If I lose a phone again (GOD FORBIDS!), I will surely act that way cos I have this special connection with material things I buy with my money, especially when I save for 9 months, clean kitchens, sweep and babysit kids to afford it.

GIVE: ‘A Time’

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*GIVE IT TIME*

When someone comes and tells you, I can’t sleep without you, I love you the way you are and I can put up with your good and bad attitude. Before you commit your heart please *GIVE IT TIME*.

When You meet someone today and feel like marrying him/her tomorrow, before you do remember you need to *GIVE IT TIME*.

When you visit your uncle and you are to stay there for 2 weeks holidays, don’t be carried away that they serve you your preferred food and give you hot water to bath during your first two days and you start making arrangement to relocate to their house, First *GIVE IT TIME*.

When a brother visits you and wakes you up by his shouting of prayer from 12am to 6am, please don’t shut him down, first *GIVE IT TIME*.

When a brother joins your fellowship in First year and he is in every group/unit, please don’t rush and make him a leader rather *GIVE IT TIME*.

When you enter a new environment and everybody worships you and eats your messes, don’t be carried away just *GIVE IT TIME*.

When someone comes with a new business with unbelievable
promises, please before you involve your money, first *GIVE IT TIME*.

When you see a new church in town and you hear their waves, before you conclude about how hot they are first *GIVE IT TIME*.

Your Uncle or Father told You that you are useless and worthless and can’t amount to anything, just laugh it away and ask them to *GIVE YOU TIME*.

Finally when you are in a cross road of decisions, you don’t know what to do, ask the people or person involved to please *Give You Time*.

The wise priest in the Bible in Acts told them to leave Peter and John…Rather, *Give Them Time*.

You can be good in giving people tests and trying out who they are…some people know how to pass them all but the test of time they fail.

Time *Tests Love* and *Proves It*.
Time *Tests Businesses* and *Authenticates It*.
Time *Tests Spirituality* and *Reveals It*.
Time, *A God Tester*.

Quote me… Consistency with time is the True Test of Efficiency.

Time is a *TESTER*
Time is an *AUTHENTICATOR*
Time is a *REVEALER*
Time is still a *MATTER*

Give Nigeria time.

Thanks for giving this long post *A TIME*.
Stay Blessed and enjoy your day.

Benjamin Franklin: For the want of a Nail.

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For want of a nail the shoe was lost,
for want of a shoe the horse was lost,
for want of a horse the knight was lost,
for want of a knight the battle was lost,
for want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
So a kingdom was lost—all for want of a nail.
This proverb has come down in many variations over the centuries (see historical references below). It describes a situation in which a failure to anticipate or correct some initially small dysfunction leads by successively more critical stages to an egregious outcome. The rhyme’s implied small difference in initial conditions is the lack of a spare horseshoe nail, relative to a condition of its availability.[1] At a more literal level, it expresses the importance of military logistics in warfare.

Such chains of causality are perceived only in hindsight. No one ever lamented, upon seeing his unshod horse, that the kingdom would eventually fall because of it.[1]

A related proverb is “A stitch in time saves nine.” A somewhat similar idea is referred to in the metaphor known as The Camel’s nose.

Also note that the word “want” in the poem refers to a definition of “want” meaning “lack,” rather than “desire”, from 1150-1200; Middle English wante < Old Norse vanta to lack.

Nigerians: Behold Buhari

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I love Jonathan, I wanted I’m to win.
I loved PDP, I wanted them in power.
I am not happy with their loss, infact I hold it against APC.
I do not like Buhari for causing them to loose.
I want a christain in power, a Civilian.
My hopes has been dashed. It is not to be so at least for another 4 years yet.
So, I shall therefore not create a tantrum.
I shall not because of my dislike for APC and Buhari cause a hate scheme and begin to encourage a rebellion, or post comments that would sabotage his government.
I am a christian, and I must remember I prayed for God’s will before, during and after the elections. And if I know God hears me and answers me, then why should I question his decision?
This is it:
Buhari is going to be our president for at least another four years. So please let’s all join hands together and help him do his duty by us.
Let’s not sit back and start waiting and watching for his mistakes, to criticize, and publicize. Saying we said so. He is human afterall and therefore isn’t perfect.
You must understand that he is Military.
He was trained to achieve results in fast ways. He ruled during the military regime and so still has a lot to learn in civilian government.
His idea of changing the country fast is definitely not going to happen.
It would take time, he probably hasn’t realized that yet.
He might possibly be the only one fighting for honesty amongst a team of crooks, who knows?
So please do not pressure him yet.
Do not begin to make demands on him.
Do not expect too much.
He campaigned like all politicians would.
He got your votes with promises.
Give him time to fulfill them or not to, before you pounce on him.
He is a man afterall, not God who can speak things to life.
Please let’s all irrespective of our religions, start praying for his peaceful reign as president and hope it goes uneventful as Jonathan’s was.
That is the only way we can enjoy it.
Remember when the head is in order the other parts of the body have a fair chance of surviving.
I am Alero Ajems Arubi, a Rivers/Deltan. I am from the South, I am a Nigerian. I have conceeded defeat and therefore say: Behold Buhari

#Alero_Ajems
Copyright 2016

LIFE: In its many Colors

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A guy met one of his school mates several years after school and he could not believe his eyes; his friend was driving one of the latest sleek Mercedes Benz cars. He went home feeling awful and very disappointed in himself. He thought he was a failure. What he didn’t know was that his friend was a driver and had been sent on errand with his boss’s car!

Rosemary nagged her husband always for not being romantic. She accused him for not getting down to open the car door for her as her friend Jane’s husband did when he dropped her off at work. What Rosemary didn’t know was that Jane’s husband’s car had a faulty door that could only be opened from the outside!

Sampson’s wife went to visit one of her long time friends and was very troubled for seeing the 3 lovely kids of her friend playing around. Her problem was that she had only one child and have been struggling to conceive for the past five years. What she didn’t know was that one of those kids who was the biological child of her friend had sickle cell and had just a year to live; the other two are adopted!

Life does not have a universal measuring tool; so create yours and use it.
Looking at people and comparing yourself with them will not make you better but bitter. If you know the sort of load the chameleon carries, you would’nt ask why it takes those gentle strides. So, enjoy what you have and be grateful for it.. Pass to everyone on ur list to learn from other mistake! Not all that glitters are gold, live and be happy with what you have, everyone is going through one thing or the other.

Dear African Writers: We Read.

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Dear Contemporary African Writer, We Read; We Don’t Just Read You

Dear Contemporary African Writer, We Read; We Don’t Just Read You

**Author – Chisom Nlebedum

The Caine Prize for African Writing has once more gone to a phenomenal African writer who many young readers in Africa are unaware of, and whose works many will probably never read unless examination authorities such as WAEC, NECO or JAMB (high school examination boards in Nigeria) decides to make it on one of their reading lists. That many young African readers know little or nothing about this new winner, and many other contemporary African writers must never be misconstrued as another “Africans do not read episode”, for this is already a ludicrous cliché. WE READ, and it should rather be a question of WHAT DO WE READ than whether we read at all.

For a generation whose eyes and body have become one with the ever moving characters of motion pictures, video games, cartoons, and short clips from Facebook and twitter which all run in minutes and are divided into episodes; a generation that has, in the words of Oprah Winfrey, developed an antenna for detecting B.S.; a generation breaking the boundaries between races, sexes, gender and nationality with the internet, what we read are many and diverse. They range from beautiful short stories written by friends on Facebook, to excerpts, abstracts, summaries, analysis, jokes, riddles and news got from everywhere and anywhere in the internet; reliable or not, logical or not. Any illogicality in these is met with criticisms, as sharp and swift as bullets. We also read popular e-books whose ratings we need to verify from Google reads or whose author we must know before we buy them from kindle or Okada books. We read!

I teach kids in Lekki, some of whom have devoured all the series of The Diary of The Wimpy Kid, Harry Porter, The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson’s series, Twilights, and the list goes on. Yet whenever I throw such names as Chimamanda Adichie, Seffi Attah, Chika Unigwe, Igoni Barret, Helon Habila, Tope Folarin, and the rest, as is expected, they all come back blank. Again, you dare not say they do not read, for I just told you, majority of their tablets and phones are filled with books bought from kindle.

I have also taught school kids in Aba, who also read, even though they are horribly limited by the priority of their parents on the spending of the family income, and the prescription by government and schools, of books hurriedly written and printed by hungry writers who are grossly uninformed and are yet to come to terms with the rules of the English grammar. Indeed, we read, Africa’s young readers read, but we obviously aren’t reading you, dear contemporary African writers. We just don’t read you. I really have to make it known from the start that I am not here to prescribe what to do or what not to do, as I am hardly good at that. My aim is merely to raise the question of who really are the people reading you, dear contemporary African writer. 

At the beginning, we have to admit that your books are hardly available in print, in our book shops. We only see some of your books during literary festivals, book launch, literary workshops or reading events, where few of them are dusted out and sold at ridiculous prices. Many of the bookshops around us are half filled with motivational books, religious books and books on how to make it quick; followed by secondary school textbooks, and out of date science books. Your books are never there! I always do look like a fool walking through all the bookstores in C.M.S, Lagos asking for Night Dancer by Chika Unigwe, Nnedi Okoroafor’s Akata Witch or any book by any contemporary African writer. They are never there!

Dear contemporary African writers, your books are just not available!

Talk of e-books, and that’s where it gets even worse! You and your publishers are yet to understand the importance of e-book to the young readers in Africa. It seems to elude you both, that I bought and read the e-book version of Stieg Larsson’s trilogy, using my laptop; that I have a friend, who during our second year in the university, read about eight different novels of Sidney Sheldon on his phone; that the high school I teach at home, has completed J. K. Rowling’s’ Harry Porter series he bought from Kindle, on his tablet.

Let me repeat that I am not here to blame or ridicule anyone, or prescribe to you how best to go about publishing your works. No, I just felt the need to let you know that the disconnect existing between you, and the African audience is quite “admirable”.

Again, dear African writer, we the readers have evolved. You will not find us reading anything that reads like a Nollywood movie script; of tales of witches and wizards, of evil powers in high places; of the wicked step mother and the oppressed child. Leave those for our oral literature. We will always go back to the mass collection of tales and myths and proverbs of our culture to learn that the wicked will never go unpunished, that the fruit of evil is death. Our Africa has evolved, and is now an Africa where we seek equality between the man and the woman; an Africa where the minority and there rights should be protected; an Africa where electorates have discovered the pettiness of their politicians; an Africa that will stand and stands in judgment against those who take sides with the powerful against the powerless.

Again, I really must repeat that I am not here prescribing to anyone what they must or should write, I am merely saying to you, dear African writers that we are not reading you. And when you wine and dine and dish out prizes to yourselves, just know MAJORITY of us are not reading you, and we do not hold it against you either.

Yes! NYSC should be scraped.

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With the passing out of ‘2014 Batch C’ Corps Members, I have been forced to revisit the issue of the utility of the NYSC Scheme. I understand that this is a particularly controversial subject to discuss. It is obviously so because of the very emotional attachment many people have to the Scheme. The reasons why people have this sentimental attachment to the Scheme is really not the point here. The purpose of this polemic is, rather, a dispassionate review of the original aim of the Scheme and a critical evaluation of its success or otherwise in the light of how it is currently run.

Immediately after the wholly unfortunate Nigeria-Biafra War, the military government of the day, led by then Lieutenant Colonel Yakubu Gowon, whilst taking a clue from countries with similar arrangements, introduced what is now known as the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) Scheme through the instrumentality of what was then the NYSC Decree, 1973 but now the NYSC Act, CAP N84, LFN 2004. The purpose for the innovation, when the long list of objectives is carefully considered, is: the integration of the diverse people of Nigeria. The reason for this is not farfetched. The avoidable war had completely made nonsense of the shaky unity that existed prior to 1967 when the war officially started and had also crystallised the grave misgivings and mistrusts entertained by the disparate people of a country that was cobbled together by the British Colonialists.

As much as I want to commend the government of the time for the foresight which led to the establishment of the Scheme, I am having serious difficulties convincing myself as to why it should be sustained. The great majority of those who think that the Scheme should be sustained believe that it makes for the integration of the country because it provides a rare opportunity for the young people of Nigeria to network and create alliances across the nation that will be useful to them for the present and in the future. Essentially, that it is a veritable tool for national cohesion. While I agree substantially with the good sense in this view, it appears as though it has no practical application in contemporary Nigeria. In order to appreciate this position, one question becomes pertinent: how much integration has the country recorded after the forty or so years that the Scheme has been fully operational?

In fact, how can we achieve integration in this fractious nation when we still insist on indigeneship – for example, that a citizen of Nigeria, a young Nigerian for that matter, should pay more for tuition simply for studying in a university owned by the government of a state other than his even though he was born in that state and has lived all his life there. What about situations where Nigerians are denied job opportunities just because they are not indigenous to the states where the opportunities arose even though, like the immediate example above, they were born there and have lived all their lives there? Even if one tries to agree with the integration argument, will the Scheme receive a fair grade in any objective assessment when we realise that only a tiny percentage of the entire population – Nigerians who graduated before the age of thirty from recognised tertiary institutions – participates in it? This is as opposed to other countries where most adults (people from age 18) participate and are given full military training in order for them to be able to defend the fatherland in case of a serious threat to the corporate existence of their countries. And this, to my mind, is the fundamental basis of national service!

Not too long ago, it was suggested by the NYSC Directorate Headquarters that in the last few years more than two hundred thousand Corps Members are mobilised annually for national service. While one is tempted to salute the managers of the Scheme for addressing the issue of backlog and waiting lists at the universities, one can’t help but wonder whether at this time of dwindling revenues for the federation, there are no better ventures to invest the tens of billions of naira now spent annually on the camping of Corps Members and their monthly allowances. At the rate we are going, one does not need any certification in rocket science to appreciate that we are headed for trouble and that unless something is done, and urgently too, the Scheme will become unsustainable.

The greatest downside for me in the entire arrangement is the fact that the NYSC Scheme is, without any hesitation, a time wasting exercise. For the average young Nigerian, who has written their senior school certificate examination (i.e. WAEC) and university application examination (i.e. JAMB) more than once and who has spent more time than originally anticipated in the university because of strikes by different groups within the university community and other sundry issues, national service is a needless waste of a staggering one year. Even when they are serving, what do the majority of Corps Members actually do? I make bold to say: little or nothing! A good number of Corps Members don’t even visit their Places of Primary Assignment (PPA). They don’t also attend Community Development Service (CDS) Group meetings. Majority only show up in the first week of each month in order to payroll. This is no speculation. If in doubt, ask any honest Corps Member. We cannot continue to waste the prime of our young people as a nation on the altar of an illusory national unity. The poignant part of it all is that most of our young people can hardly compete in a global community where people get their doctorates in their twenties, for instance, when so many irrelevancies are stacked against them.

And this leads me to how the scheme is entrenching corruption in the public service of the country. As I have alluded to in the preceding paragraph, the majority of Corps Members don’t participate in most activities organised by the managers of the Scheme and yet they still get their Certificates of National Service (i.e. Discharge Certificates). And the question is asked: how is this possible? Well, it is quite straightforward, really. There is a satanic collaboration between these offending Corps Members and some of the staff of the Scheme. It has been said that these staff collect a percentage of either the federal or state allowance paid to the Corps Members in order to cover up for them and supply them with vital information. And then I think aloud, can a system as corrupt as this achieve anything worthwhile? I really doubt it.
Of serious concern to most families is how the Scheme is exposing Corps Members, whom so much have been invested in, to grave danger and unnecessary risks. Young graduates in the name of national service are sent to volatile parts of the country and places that they have little or no knowledge of. The implication of this is that these young people are by this arrangement deliberately stationed in harm’s way. Or how do we expect very young people who have not left their part of the country before to be able to find their way around in the event of a civil unrest in their areas of deployment and posting? This is not to mention the fact that these young Nigerians become too self-conscious in a way that is detrimental to their overall wellbeing. The reason is simply that they don’t or can’t understand the language spoken or the cultural practices of their host communities. That is to say, they just can’t fit in! In any case, is a few months an adequate period to do so?

In fact, one can’t successfully conclude any discussion on the security of Corps Members without making reference to the very cruel way in which tens of them were murdered in the aftermath of the 2011 general elections. In a very bizarre twist, these young citizens of Nigeria were gruesomely killed when they were supposedly on national service – contributing their own modest quota to the development of the fatherland. How ironic! Unfortunately, headlines of Corps Members being killed as a result of religious, ethnic and political violence and other sad tales continue to feature in the media. And what do the authorities do? They feign ignorance or quite frankly are unable to address the issue and they thereby leave a good number of these bereaved families – who find it very difficult accessing the much publicised compensation – in agony. Should we continue to unnecessarily risk the lives of the future of our country? I say an emphatic no!

At the heart of the matter then is: what can we do to rescue the Scheme? Is there a chance for reform? Well, after a time of deep reflection, it now appears to me that integrating Nigeria and uniting its people can no longer be successfully achieved by means of the Scheme. Even if that were possible, it is now too costly to continue to do so! This is for the simple reason that the essence of the Scheme, its soul, has long been banished to far-flung regions. Any attempt at reform will, in my view, amount to adding a drop of water in an ocean – an exercise in futility! Therefore, the NYSC Scheme must be suspended. No! It should be scrapped altogether. There are more cost effective ways of achieving the objective for which the Scheme was originally established – and this is assuming that it can really be achieved. And yes, I don’t need any sermonising on how the scrapping of the Scheme will result in job losses and the likes. As I have always argued, everything will balance out!

Respectfully,
@ODNEsq.

PAVE

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She was choking.
If she didn’t try to save herself she would die in no time.
She wasn’t afraid of dying.
No she had given up living many years ago and had just existed, but that was before she had met Shayo. Shayo was a Sanguine to the core, she flirted with life with gay abandon.
Lola on the other hand was Melancholic and had always been referred to as a nerd.

Nigerian Slim Girl

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* We’re always cold The harmattan and rainy season is unfavourable on us. Without much fat on our bones, we’re always shivering no matter the heavy clothes we put on.

* We always get reminded that we’re skinny – People always feel the need to let us know we’re skinny, as if we don’t already know. Like they just HAVE to break the news to us in case we forgot. Our family members are most guilty of that..

* Our pants get baggy midday and in the flap – Sometimes we put on some certain form of clothing but due to the stretching of the fabric, our pants are wide-leg by noon and the flap is stretched in a manner that makes it seems we have a p*ni*.
This makes me sad. How’d my jeans get 2 sizes bigger in 6 hours?? Then we have to wash the pants to get them back tight. And the cycle repeats itself.

* We make terrible cuddle buddies – Lack of meat on our bones make certain joints and parts of us sharp like a knife, like elbows, knees and chins. Have you ever placed your head on his chest and he goes “Jesus CHRIST! You just stabbed me with your cheek bone.”

* Gusts of winds are dangerous – Have you ever had to battle a strong gust of wind that almost swept you into traffic? And then when it’s raining, it becomes a struggle to stay standing with an umbrella on a rainy windy day. We have to hold our umbrella with both hands! Unless you find a pole or something heavy to hang on to, our umbrella tends to turns inside out.

* People pick us up to test their strength – Skinny girls get picked up randomly by people who want to see how strong they are. Some guys would no longer go to the gym to carry weight when they have a skinny neighbour next door.

* We can’t give blood – We want to do good in the world and give back sometimes. So when we go to donate blood, we often get met with side-eyes from doctors who feel we missed our direction.

* We have to prove to folks that we eat – The assumption that you have an eating disorder, as if looks can diagnose mental health. People ask us countless times “Do you eat?” We feel pressured to clean our plates when we eat with others. When we don’t, people around us say, “This is why you have refused to add weight!.”

* We can’t exercise without being judged – We tell people that we want to start exercising because it’s healthy and they look at us up and down as if we are mad.
And then they ask the dreaded question, “Do you want to disappear?”

*Always. Needing. Belt Or our jeans would never fit. We even need belt with leggings.

*Wearing the same size bra you wore in junior secondary school. It’s every annoying that we’ve been wearing the same bra size since JSS2.

*You ALWAYS have to add more holes to your belts. We always need custom made holes in our belts because the last hole is never tight enough!

Sellers at Ikeja under bridge keep harassing us. To come in from ‘brrreast and nyash drugs’ and those in Yaba harassing us to buy butt pads and foam bra when we walk past.

The conductor of the bus ALWAYS makes us sit on a stool between the driver’s seat and first passenger seat because he feels we don’t need a lotta space. By the time we get to our destination, we’ve been assaulted by the hardness of the chair. WICKEDNESS!

*No songs about us. Nigerian musicians never EVER sings songs about how hot skinny girls are. Only how hot curvy girls are.
You’ll never hear lyrics like, “I like the way she dey whine her flat nyash. Her agbalumo b00bs dey make my head kolo. I like the way everybody just dey turn as she dey waka with that her tiny laps. Her small waist dey do me strong thing oh. Baby be mine and I go protect you from breeze.”

There are COUNTLESS skinny girl problems! Which ones did I miss?

#NigerianSlimGirl

Fulani Immanuel: Guest Writer

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THE LEADERS WHO CONTRIBUTE TO A DILAPIDATED NIGERIA, THE GENERATION THAT CAN REBUILD IT.
A dilapidated Nigeria is a country in shambles, a country at the brink of total disrepair. In the year 1960, the first day of October, Nigeria officially gained independence from Great Britain. That fateful day would signify that henceforth she would make her own decisions and suffer from its consequent results be it negative. As defined by the English Dictionary, App version 2.0; dilapidated is said to mean, “Falling into a state of disrepair and deterioration, especially through neglect.” Then it is necessary to ask if the country as fallen into a state of disrepair, but is obvious because the problem of corruption and bribery, unemployment, economic recession, moral decadence, lack of electricity supply, insecurity and a host of others exist in the country. It is also important to know how we got ourselves into this mess.
The Nigeria today is a country in anomaly, though blessed with vast minerals and human resources, good weather and climatic conditions, well-educated individuals, and lots more, She is in a really bad condition and this is characterised by poor education, inferior transport system, encouragement of corrupt practises and bribery, worsened social condition of the average man living in the country, reduced national income, very high and poor living condition, increased unemployment, squalor, poverty, inequality in rights and treatment of the citizens which defeats the definition of democracy, and utter negligence to what matters. A retired general in the Nigerian army, in his remarks on Nigeria said, “Nigeria is a country resolutely marching forward with her heads backward.”
A leader is one who represents a group of people (those who officially represent group of people. i.e. through voting or consensus, and those officially appointed to oversee particular functions that concern the welfare and interest of the state.) A country is guided and represented by a number of individuals, who are referred to as leaders; these leaders make rules and regulations, define policies, manage the affairs of the state and are involved in activities concerned with the welfare of the general populace. However, ineffective decisions, unrealistic policies, selfish ambitions, greed, dereliction and inattention to what really matters on the part of these leaders will consequentially result into the gradual collapse of the country. It will be futile to name particular leaders who have contributed to the present state of the country, but vital to take note of the government which comprise of this leaders. One can categorically approximate that the state leaders since the independence as failed. Then, is there still left a blight of hope? They haven’t only successfully failed in the giving a better country, but have killed the hope of having one.
Hence, why? It is easy then to say that with the present conditions of the country, she has leaders who have no plan to lead people but to pursue their own selfish end. This is a survival instinct that has developed in virtually all Nigerians because of the consistent deterioration of the country. So, reports of officials siphoning government revenue is no news as the citizens feel they are trying to feed their nuclear and extended family, which, according to her newly developed survival philosophy, is his first priority, then comes the country. What a life!
Correspondingly, another reason to this rundown is the lack of patriotic citizens in the country; mostly everyone is encumbered with their own problems and don’t consider or share in the burdens of others. Then why won’t we suffer neglect?
Now, with this mind, who then will rebuild Nigeria from its ruins? Who are the rebuilding generation? A generation is all the people who were born at a particular period of time, a single stage in history, also is a group of people of similar age involved in a particular activity. The rebuilding generation are group of individuals with holistically established ideologies, principles, and philosophies. They are group of people with unwavering determination to achieve their goals while consequently affecting their environment positively. The rebuilding generation must possess certain leadership qualities, defined goals and objectives undeterred by external influence or traditional customs and hard-headedness.
Furthermore, Rebuilding means building or putting things together again that was scattered, and to make something or somebody complete or strong again. A lot has been actually ruined and compromised; values, customs and traditions of various tribes have steadily gone down the drain. How long it will take does in fact matters. But with such a distinct and well-defined generation having the best interest of the country at heart, policy and decision making wouldn’t much take time.
However, this generation can appear in a whim, this group or set of people can be achieved through providing quality education, positive use of the social media, providing the enabling environment for them to develop i.e. installing infrastructures and making policies for the future, organising seminars and conference that emphasize leadership, patriotism, social interaction, and nationalism. This approach is not the burden of the government but everyone.
Conclusively, with a generation of founded ideologies and established philosophies not influenced by traditional values, Nigeria will get back to prosperity; this however begins with everyone having the awareness of the present state of the country and the intentionality to make change happen.

Its Still a Man’s World Out here

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Men are allowed to be Wolverine. While women are expected to grow hair only on their head. Tomorrow, it’s either Etcetera, Lynxx or some random Twitter bully dishing out tips on how ladies should shave the legs, privates, belly and armpits.
Yet these men practice opposite of what they preach. Hardly would you see any man without a savannah forest on his armpit. They think it’s manly and sexy.
And the only places men have neat kini are in p0rn movies.

No wet dreams for women. It’s unfair that men’s version of period is what is biologically referred to as wet dreams. From what I understand, wet dreams happens when they orgasm in their dreams. If a woman experiences same, she’s bundled to a prayer house to be delivered of spiritual husband.

No painful periods for men. Men can keep their wet dreams but nothing would give me more joy than seeing men having a wet dreams cycle.
Let me be more precise. I mean the sort of heavy wet dreams stretching up to one week in a month, and nights that comes with waist pain, abdominal pain and wet dreams cramps.
Ladies, imagine walking into a store to buy a random item and seeing men shopping for Always Ultra for men, Gentlemen Care & co for their wet nightmare. Bliss!

It’s okay for men to be pregnant with food. A big tummy is acceptable for a man. But a woman? Even after 5 set of twins, you are expected to remain sissy. Now the new trend is to lose pregnancy weight 7 days after childbirth.
Do I need to go in on the pressure to keep every part of the body from sagging?
From the tummy, thighs and breasts. And even after wearing a N30,000 bra after childbirth to delay sagginess so society can keep quiet, our husbands would still come at night to massage everything like he’s kneading flour for bread and the next morning, breasts are back to saggy baggy.
And when are we going to start seeing waist trainers for ‘pregnant men’ in the market? When?

A virgin man is an abomination. But a woman is termed as promiscuous if she’s had a body count of two.
A man would spend many years of his life engaging in insert and discharge with all manner of ladies in different continents until it’s time to marry at 42.
He’s celebrated as a hero when he returns to the village to pick a bride from a set of 21 year old virgins. Don’t you watch Nollywood movies?
The above reason is why I shut my windows and doors whenever I sing Beyonce’s ‘Who run the world’ .Who am I deceiving?

A woman can’t even be dirty in peace. We are told to wash our kini three times a day.
We are told to bath twice a day.
We are encouraged to change undies twice a day.
We are told to wipe down there with baby wipes when we pee even when we pee 36 times a day.
Today it’s an article for women to wash from front to back; Tomorrow, its another health article to wash vertically and horizontally, to place the shower head on the ground and spread our legs over it while the warm water flows past our cervix and flushes every yamayama, to avoid any form of toilet soap while washing, to use liquid warm water with two drops of vag1na tightening liquid. Haba?
Brother nodding at this advice, when will you wash that boxers you’ve been wearing for three weeks?

Uncle Gwegs are not legally recognized in Nigeria . In this society of ours, marriage is termed as the ultimate achievement for a woman.
Pastors would spend 15 minutes praying for ladies to meet their Mr Right and a short 56 seconds prayer for men to meet their Miss Right.
Pastor would say, “There are 28 girls in the house weeping for a husband to call their own. Run now to the altar and receive it!”, and 88 of us would run straight to the altar crying. No one ever gets to call out the Uncle Gwegs in the house because marriage is not really a problem for men!!!
Today, it’s a supernatural singles breakthrough programme designed for women.
If only unmarried men go through half the pressure heaped on unmarried ladies. If a woman misbehaves, she is threatened with, “No man will put you inside house with that attitude.”
Sometimes when a man annoys me, I want to say, “No woman would follow you inside house with that attitude” but I hold my peace when I realise my statement would never make sense. It’s a man’s world after all. Or is it not?


#NaijaSingleLady

‘The Peter Pan Syndrome’

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‘The Peter Pan Syndrome’
Dale Cartridge

I’m not sure when men decided that 30 was the new 15. When men thought it was better to remain independent than making a commitment to another. When men we’re courageous in business and battle but afraid to be fathers. I’m not sure when video games and “guy night” became more important than tee-ball and date night. When 4 year relationships weren’t long enough for a proposal. When staying out became cooler than showing up. I’m not sure when men became boys.
Our culture has a boy problem. In Italy, they call it Peter Pan Syndrome. I call it immaturity and selfishness. Men so focused on their dreams, their visions, and their desires they find themselves wealthy, known, and alone.
The adult world doesn’t need more boys. We need men who will grow up, know up, and show up. Who will fight for romance and commit quickly and stay indefinitely. To turn their hearts toward children and work to raise them well. To be friends who grow friends. Not just by compliments, but accountability and conviction. We need more men.
We need more men of integrity and character. Those who will hold a moral code and not compromise it. Those who love women, treat them as they would their own daughters and lead them when everything doesn’t make sense… They would lead. We need more men.
I’m a man. And I’m proud of that.
#‎EveryPostALesson‬ #‎DaleyWisdom‬
– Dale Partridge

In the Case of A Burst Tyre

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WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU HAVE A TYRE BLOWOUT

In the event of the unfortunate death of Nigeria’s minister of state for labour due to an accident occasioned by a tyre blowout and the fact that in Nigeria now-a-days, we have many untrained drivers, it has become pertinent for me to write this.

There are 6 simple steps to take within a maximum of 2 minutes and you will be safe, these by the grace of God I have been familiar with for decades. They are as follow:

(1) DON’T PANIC in the event of a blowout, calm yourself down fast because your car will start misbehaving and you need to take charge.

(2) Hold FIRMLY to your steering wheel with both hand, NO VIGOROUS TURNING, as you concentrate on the road and your mirrors, in seconds study the movement pattern of the car. Your car will naturally swerve to the direction of the burst tyre.

(3) Take off your foot from the accelerator, DON’T EVER ATTEMPT TO PRESS THE BRAKES, IF YOU DO, YOU HAVE A 95% CHANCE OF A SOMERSAULT. The car will decelerate gradually while you concentrate on the road to avoid collision with any other road user.

(4) Disengage the gears of the car by shifting to neutral (N) as you still maintain a firm grip on the sheering wheel and put your eyes on the road.

(5) After a while depending on your initial speed, your car come to a speed less than 60km/h when it is now safe to GRADUALLY apply the brakes and navigate to the side walk

(6) Ultimately, it is now safe to put the car to a complete stop and turn off the engine. You have just saved yourself and passengers from untimely death.

NOTE:
Of course, everyone in the car will be in a panic mode BUT this is NOT THE TIME TO LISTEN TO THEM, it is TIME TO CONCENTRATE.

Please, don’t just read, share on your page and copy to other platforms, you may just be about to save a life.

Wait! Just before you say ‘Yes’

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The rate at which marriages collapse now is assuming a social symbol status in our society. In few years time, people will be throwing divorce parties & invite friends & well-wishers to celebrate their divorce anniversaries; they will choose aso-ebi, hire a hall and popular musicians. Even a question like “So when are you getting divorced?” will become common. If u know u can’t handle the weight & pressures of marriage, please remain single. If u don’t know what marriage is all about, please remain single until u do. If u are getting married because of the things u desire or hope to gain from the other person please remain single. If u know u can’t be faithful, remain single. If u can’t endure insults from one another, pls remain single. If u can’t forgive one another’s wrongs, pls remain single. If u can’t place ur spouse above every other human being, pls remain single! Don’t get married out of desperation. If u desire a successful home, but ur choice of friends are those whose marriages have collapsed. Its simple – they’ll make u drink from their poisoned chalice. Once that happens, ur marriage is in a process of dying a slow death. Be very mindful of where you go for advice.
Guys, if u know u can’t put ur wife ahead ur ego, pls remain single till u mature. There’s no way u can abandon the care of ur family at the expense of your lifestyle. They are your priority & everything else including u comes last. You are the teacher, the guide, the bodyguard, the spiritual leader, the role model – u are not a deity. So don’t expect to be worshipped. You need respect, earn it by being responsible.
Ladies, if u know you can’t be submissive please don’t go into marriage so you’re not turned to a punch bag! If u know u can’t stand being corrected, please remain single.
Ladies check ur domestic scorecard – if ur score is zero, please stay in ur parents’ house! Ladies & gentlemen, marriage isn’t,& won’t be a bed of roses, understand the dynamics.

My Terrible Fear.

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I’m scared of what marriage does to beautiful friendships.
I’m scared of what marriage does to great bodies.
I’m terribly scared of what marriage does to strong christians.
But I’m more scared of what staying alone for the rest of my life would be like.
«~»
#‎Alero_Ajems‬.

The Common Sense Revolution

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‘The Common Sense Revolution’
By: Alero Ajems.

Now Ben Murray Bruce, isn’t my favourite Tweet inspirator, I need you to understand that before I proceed. But I like him.
I like the fact that he can actually become something more normal than a Nigerian Senator; that he can actually be, a Citizen.
Its rare that we see things like this.
A Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, coming to tweeter to share his concerns, to share his fears, to voice his hope; the hope of the everyday Citizen of Nigeria.
I do not deny that they maybe biased, that they may be selfish; afterall he is human and like all humans, made with flaws.
But I am more concerned about the fact that they might somehow be truthfully fears, that they just might be Privileged hopes, that somehow, in all his provisions, he has empathy enough to be concerned about the future and direction of this Country, Nigeria.
And for these reasons I have come to look at ‘The Common Sense Revolution’ as not just a naïve pet project of a Senator of Nigeria, but a sequence of words, expressings the very heart of a man.
A man who like you and me, is in Nigeria and living the pains and griefs in his own constructural way which we may not understand but in its path existent.
I would like to end on this note;
Let us all try our words, say them out, get the commonsense out there, put our voices on the Records of time, so that if they will pretend to not see, they cannot pretend to mot hear. And if they will; then we shall know that we have tried.
Thank you.

Falsified Life

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“The Falsified Life”
By: Alero Ajems
~~~
“I don’t have it!”
She stares at you strangely than hurt and walkes away hurriedly.
Sonja is your younger sister, she follows you around all the time, she looks up to you like a role model. The hopes in her eyes when your mum tells her that she is beginning to resemble you too much scares you sometimes, makes you realise you wish no one hopes for your life. But you smile at her and shrug, when she smiles at you and winks, that conspiratory wink that says more than the smile. Makes you realise she finds that a compliment.
At age 23 and already halfway done with your masters in Clinical Psychology and the first and only graduate in the house to do a professional course, you understand why she feels that way. You also understand why you do not feel that way.
why recently you have begun to find it difficult to wake up in the mornings to go to the Big hospital you worked in.
why you suddenly didn’t like listening to patients describe how they think their fear of their new neighbor who they think is rearing rats is the reason they have a fever.
You wanted to slap them, you wanted to tell them that their neighbours didn’t rear rats, that the fact that they felt they were not good enough for their estate class didn’t mean they had rats in their house as pets. But you smile and help them realise that its just an anxiety disorder, and that if they insist you could give them something for the high temperature, but that they were fine.
What, with all the balanced diet they followed and good exercises they did and the clean environment they lived in, they couldn’t possibly have fever.
You had snapped at Sonja today out of wearied patience over a missing note. But you didn’t make the move to beg her, you would call her later and give her a catalogue of the finest meals to diet on and that would solve the anger. It was also something you had begun doing lately, bribery and not apology. It was not something you liked either, but it was something you had begun to accept.
~~~
#‎Alero_Ajems‬

Half of A Whole

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‘Half of A Whole’
By: Alero Ajems
~~~
She didn’t want to be manipulative anymore. She knew now why she had never quite found anyone attractive or mesmerizing enough to fall so hard for. To be one with. To become whole. To complete.
Some people, she realized were halves of a whole and when they met their other halves, they clicked and fitted perfectly, winding up in love and totally sure, they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with each other.
And…
Some others, she realised were just whole. Complete. One. They had no parts emptied or disintegrated and therefore only needed to find someone they could connect with. Share interests. Someone they could be with. It was never about completing each other. It was simply about living. Existing. Leading to immortality, these people she realised were very rare and most times never did quite understand themselves better enough to know what they needed and not what society expected from them.
«~»
‘But Jesus said “Not everyone is mature enough to live a married life. It requires a certain aptitude and grace. Marriage isn’t for everyone. Some from birth seemingly never give marriage a thought. Others never get asked- or accepted. And some decide not to get married for kingdom reasons. But if you’re capable of growing into the largeness of marriage, do it”…’
This verse is taken from Matthew 19:11-12, and the translation is fro The Message Bible.

The Sound of Happiness

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Impossible is the word you use whenever he told you, you amaze him.
You rolled your eyes at him when he found your Tomboyish pranks amusing.
“You really are crazy” you told him one day.
“You have to be, if you love me the way you do”
All he did was smile that confident lazy smile he always used when around you and shrug.
But you know you are happy about his overlooking of your many flaws, the fact that he was that swooned over you. You didn’t mind that kind of crazy, infact you revelled in it.
So you hold his hand look into his eyes and say:
“I guess I am a bit crazy myself”
He looks at you for a long time, in that soul searching way he does and then throws his head back and laughs, really laughs. And you find that you love that laugh too, the rich sound deep from his belly.
it was, you found to your astonishment the sound of Happiness. Pure Crazy Happiness.
•~•
#‎Jan_23_2016‬

An Angry Letter to Nigerian Youths.

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Angry Letter to the Nigerian Youth
By Bayo Adeyinka

My dear Nigerian Youth,
I am very angry and that is why I am addressing you. You are the source of my anger and I want to vent my spleen- maybe not at you directly- but at the arrogance of your ignorance. Of all nations of the world, you are to be most pitied. Do you still wonder what you have done?
You don’t have an Ivy League education but with the little below-standard education you got, all you could do with it is to write a petition against someone with the benefit of an Ivy League education. You can’t even run your personal economy as you’re almost always and perpetually broke yet you arrogate to yourself superior knowledge about the nation’s economy.
You sit in front of a computer and rant all day through social media but with every click, you make money- not for yourself- but for Mark Zuckerberg. With every megabyte of data you spend complaining and maligning, you make stupendous bucks for Etisalat, Glo and Airtel.
Over the next two years, the number of Nigerian millionaires will jump by 47% but most likely you will not be among because you are too busy whining and complaining. And yet about 60% of Nigeria’s 170m population are below 35 years. Oh, what a waste!
By the way, Mark Zuckerberg was 19 when he started facebook. Africa’s youngest billionaire, Ashish Thakkar, is 31. He escaped from the Rwandan genocide and relocated to Uganda where he started an IT business. Collin Thornton, who made his millions by fixing bad computers and setting up Dial-a-Nerd, is 35. Adam Horowitz, an 18-year-old entrepreneur, started 30 websites in 3 years before he became successful.
The only thing you have ever started is an online petition. Have you heard of Jason Njoku? He’s 33 and the founder of Iroko TV. He received $8m investment into his company just a few years ago. What he does? Sharing the same Nollywood films that you spend hours to watch online. He didn’t just hang around waiting for Buhari to make something happen or blaming Jonathan for not making anything happen.
Kamal Budhabhatti was deported from Kenya but while on the flight, he thought of the opportunities in Kenya. He found his way back after 6 months and today his company is valued at $30m. He’s 36. Have you heard of Chinedu Echeruo? Apple just paid $1b for his app. He’s a Nigerian like you and all he did was attempt to fix a problem.
But for you, the only thing you attempt to fix are your nails- and your hairdo! Chinedu moved to New York in 1995 and found it difficult to navigate the city with ease so he developed HopStop to fix the problem. Stop listing all the problems- we know them already but what are you doing about them?
You are in your 40s and you still sag your trousers.
Of course you know Linda Ikeji. You’ve spent hundreds of hours on her blog laughing and commenting while she smiles her way to the bank. She’s just built a house for her father in the village- just by you clicking on her gossip and sharing. Your day is not complete without a stop by at her blog. She was as broke as you are but she turned a hobby into a business. Are you that void of understanding?
You think the politicians have any regard for you? That is why I referred to the arrogance of your ignorance at the beginning of this diatribe. You have a false estimation of yourself. You have an over bloated ego. You are only as good as an election ticket- pure and simple.
You are only good to used and discarded like a used ballot paper. Who keeps a used ballot paper anyway? That is why they only remember you every four years. You are like a menstrual pad that is only useful during the menstrual period. Are you hurt? Okay, let me help you. Have you heard of Prof Olusola Adeyeye before?
He is a Senator of the Federal Republic at the moment. But before he became a senator, he was popular on facebook. Even more popular than so many latter day facebookivists. I was one of his many followers. He put up posts after posts and pander to populist thinking. Then he was elected and one of the first things he did was to deactivate his facebook account. Yes, you read me right. Deactivate. How many times do you still see El-Rufai’s tweets? No longer regular? That is how it will dwindle until he disappears totally. I’m not limiting it to the aforementioned alone and this is not about any party. They are all the same.
Yet you falsely believe your future is in the hands of one politician. You will grow grey hair with that belief. And by the time you wise up, you’re on your way to the grave- not with a life expectancy of less than 60 years in this clime. Can you see you have wasted your time? And possibly your life? See, people have been complaining since independence. And they will still complain in 4 years. Will you be among them?
I agree with my friend who said Nigerian youth need mental detoxification. And maybe I should add that you need a brain transplant. Let me give you another example. I’ve watched you try to pull some people down when you don’t like their face- or their comments. You report them to facebook. And they get pulled down. Momentarily. Just momentarily.
Do you know why? Facebook knows those people draw traffic. Their posts get huge numbers of comments. And with every comment and click, someone is making money. Will you allow your best customers to leave? That is why though facebook pulled down Adeyinka Grandson’s page, he was given a facebook fan page in return. Yes, a fan page. You need to get a job and you need to get a life. There is life away from facebook or social media.
If you’re not making money from social media and you sleep on it, you’re merely existing- you’re not living. I have seen some of you take selfies and pose in all manner of ways as you paste your photos on social media. Are you a photographer or are you selling something that we don’t know? You’re unemployed because you’re unemployable. You don’t have skills. Sorry, the major skill you have is that of pointing out the problems and debating about them. That’s a no brainer! You can’t even diagnose the problems properly.
You think Ngozi Okonjo- Iweala is your problem? You are a self-inflicted problem. You are afflicted with yourself and by yourself. If you’re looking for the reason why you are the way you are- look no further than your mirror. Instead of occupying Nigeria, you should occupy your brain. The only witch chasing you from your village is you. It’s time to stop bewitching yourself.
Stop whining about lack of electricity or fuel. Do something about it. Every adversity has a seed of opportunity embedded in it. Create something. Invent something. Start something. Read up a book. Write a book. Take advantage of the present situation. Nigeria is a huge market. Nigeria is a virgin market. Waiting for you. Unleash yourself. Release your passion. Follow your potential. Invent your way to prosperity. Stop waiting for government- government only needs you when they need your taxes. Don’t depend on welfare. People who depend on welfare don’t fare well.
You think you lack capital? No, the problem is not lack of capital but lack of ideas. Just today, two men stepped into my wife’s office selling the new portraits of Buhari and Osinbajo. That’s someone grabbing an opportunity and seizing the moment. I have a friend who started out by offering after-school lessons to kids on her street- now she has a school.
I know a lady who was indigent and self-sponsored on campus. Each night, she soaked beans and made ‘moin-moin’ in the morning for sale on campus. I bought out of the moin moin as well as some other students and that was how she paid her way through University. Not prostitution. Have you heard of Ayodeji Megbope? She started her business with the last N1,000 she had on her by making moin moin. She is the CEO of No Leftovers.
I have shared the story of ‘Akara Ayo’ and invited him to talk to us before. He left his banking job to start a business frying Akara (bean cake) in Ibadan. And added some innovation to it.
Start a snail farm. You can start it with less than N100,000. I started it with nothing- I just picked up snails in my compound and raised them. In a couple of months, I had raised close to a thousand. You have a car and you are complaining you don’t have a job? Convert it for car hire. Take it to the airports and see how people will hire it for the day. Liase with good hotels and place it at their disposal. I met a young man in Calabar who charges N1,500 per hour for the use of his car. There is something in your hand that can give you the future you want. The best moment to start is now.
For God’s sake, just do something!
NB: This is just an article to stir up and challenge people and it’s intention is not derogatory in any form.

You Deserve Better!

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To the Single Ladies out there:

You are worth being committed to, and the problems he has are inner issues that he needs to solve himself.
Just remember that its not your responsibility to fix a broken man. Its not worth your time, your effort, your love or your tears. If he is not willing to fix himself for you, there is nothing more to do than to just walk away and move beyond his selfish, immature, and ultimately abusive behavior. Not all men are broken, but you have to believe you deserve better.

#‎Jan_19_2016‬

The Fact about Relationships

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When, as a mother of two young children in her early thirties, she has largely abandoned her writing, he successfully urges her to take it up again. Nino praises her generously: “What I envy most is your ability as a narrator,” he tells her. Because Elena believes in Nino, in his judgment, his admiration has weight.

For a time, anyway. Over the course of years, Elena’s estimation of Nino’s abilities wanes. His ideas become predictable; she finds his desire to be “politically surprising” distasteful. She sees the careerism and pettiness underneath his charming exterior: “He seemed . . . sensitive to the approval of those who had authority and ready to catch out, or even, at times, humiliate out of envy, those who did not yet have enough of it.” These observations coincide with the lessening of her once-overpowering love for him. Even his praise leaves her cold: “I summarized a plot and characters that I was sketching out and he said, Great, very intelligent. But he didn’t convince me, I didn’t believe him.”

This type of attention to a lover’s intelligence—and to those facets of character that fall under the auspices of intelligence and factor into respect, such as fairness, integrity, magnanimity, and sensitivity—is consistent with the way women novelists have long written about love. For as long as novels have been written, heroines in books by women have studied their beloveds’ minds with a methodical, dispassionate eye. The ideal mate, for Jane Austen’s heroines, for Charlotte Brontë’s, for George Eliot’s, is someone intelligent enough to appreciate fully and respond deeply to their own intelligence, a partner for whom they feel not only desire but a sense of kinship, of intellectual and moral equality.

A link between love and respect hardly seems like a unique or daring proposition—until we consider that so many male authors have tended to think about love very differently. Straight male authors devote far less energy to considering the intelligence of their heroes’ female love interests; instead, they tend to emphasize visceral attraction and feelings.

‘The NewYorker’

If You Have Lost Focus

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Distracted people are sometimes the most creative. Maybe you can pair with someone that has a bit more focus, and work off and with that person’s energy…
I want to add, you don’t have to LOSE your passion. In fact, I honestly wish I could find a new passion…it’s just realizing that as passionate as you are about something, sometimes (most times) it’s not going to pay the bills. Find a job you at least like (if not love), which moves your life forward, is what it’s all about! Getting a job that isn’t close to what you are passionate about can help move that passion forward, and enable you to fullfil that passion. But you can’t always rely on getting that “dream job”. For those that have – more power to you! But that isn’t how it always works.
There will always be someone faster than you, someone richer, someone you want to be. That person could be a stumbling block for you or an inspiration. Like the top comment says, it takes more than self-worth to make a dream happen. It takes hard, hard work, even when it seems that some did not have to work as others. You don’t know their struggle, and they don’t know yours.

I use quotes from Frank Herbert’s Dune to inspire me to improve and evolve. Here are a few I just found.

There should be a science of discontent. People need hard times to develop psychic muscles. — Muad’Dib

“Highly organized research is guaranteed to produce nothing new.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

Confine yourself to observing and you always miss the point of your life. The object can be stated this way: Live the best life you can. Life is a game whose rules you learn if you leap into it and play it to the hilt. Otherwise, you are caught off balance, continually surprised by the shifting play. Non-players often whine and complain that luck always passes them by. They refuse to see that they can create some of their own luck.
Darwi Odrade – Chapterhouse: Dune.

I’d rather Peace than Justice

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What the majority never understand is the truth that on all fronts, peace is superior to justice, and while there are moments when justice is the experience to define meaning, it is certain that in the relationships dearest to each of us, we trade our collective peace when we fight for rights and insist on justice.
The fight for justice is always a winnable engagement,…we may always win the agitation for correctness. Yet, so marriages have fought for so much justice they have no peace left…and great friendships have gone sour for same. We must always ask which deserves higher premium between correctness and progress.
I am running towards 50, but it took me 40 years of existence and 9 years into the marriage experience to realize that I would rather be at peace than be right. As long as it depends on me…I will be at peace with the persons everywhere…it is a human law.


#Olakunle_A_Soriyan.

The Fear

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‘The Fear’
By: Alero Ajems

‘Will you marry me?”
He watched the emotions play on her face. Surprise. Elation. Good because he had been scared she would refuse, all with her avoidance of the ‘M’ word. He looked at her fingers, at her ring finger and imagined his diamond ring sitting there.
He was still gripping her hands and trying to get the ring from his breast pocket when she tugged to free her hand from his.
“No,…” She said in a small whisper.
“What did you say?”
“No! No! I can’t be a wife.” She said and got up pacing.
He was almost angry and confused. What the hell was wrong with her, blowing hot and cold at intervals. He wanted to walk away until she met his eyes and he saw it.
In all his life, he had never seen pupils as dilated as hers was now, and that’s when it struck him. She had said ‘I can’t be a wife’ not ‘I can’t be your wife’. She was scared, but of what?
“I’m sorry, Rufus, very sorry” and then she bolted out the door.

The Time Commitment

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“To measure the value he places on your relationship, don’t count the dollars and cents…add up the hours and minutes. You see, as a man, he can spend money because he knows that as a man, he can make that money back. But, his time…his time he can never get back. Remember, it’s the time you spend together that creates the bond, not the money that’s spent. I understand that in some cultures, the man is the primary provider for the household…I understand; however, that financial obligation should not serve as a substitute for the emotional and mental obligation he has to you, as the good woman, within the household.” -Mr. Amari Soul

My 2015 theme songs.

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‘My 2015 theme Songs’
By: Alero Ajems

Katy Perry — Unconditionally
Adele — Hello
Omawunmi — Hello (Cover)
Tasha Cobbs — Break every chain
Donnie Mcclurkin — I came for deliverance
Timi Dakolo — Iyawo Mi
Carrie Underwood — Jesus take the wheel
Carrie Underwood — Lessons Learned
Carrie Underwood — Something in the water
Carrie Underwood — Blown away
Nicki Minaj — Fly
Whitney Houston — I have nothing
Toni Braxton — Yesterday
Toni Braxton — Hurt You
Anberlin — Take me as you found me
Marvin Sapp — You are God alone
Robin Thicke — Put me back together
Moses Hogan — Elijah Rock
Asa — Eyo.

These songs were my low down and high ups for 2015.
I loved every one of them.

The Goal of the NYSC

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The purpose of the scheme is primarily to inculcate in Nigerian Youths the spirit of selfless service to the community, and to emphasize the spirit of oneness and brotherhood of all Nigerians, irrespective of cultural or social background. The history of our country since independence has clearly indicated the need for unity amongst all our people, and demonstrated the fact that no cultural or geographical entity can exist in isolation.

National Youth Service Corp.

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‘National Youth Service Corp’
By: Alero Ajems


“Leila”
“Baba…”
“I just got off the phone with the DG of the NYSC, and he told me not to worry. You can have your service period in my office. Is that clear?”
“Yes Baba.”
“Good, go and join your mother in the kitchen. I’m very hungry.”
As she went towards the kitchen, Leila understood that she could never make any decision on her own. She had not known how much she had wanted to be posted somewhere far until her dad had told her she wouldn’t be going anywhere.
“Ah, Leila. Did your father send you to come and check about his food?” Her mum asked as she saw her come in.
“I will not be going anywhere Mama.”
Her mum stopped rinsing the dish and turned to her;
“He called the DG?”
Leila nodded.
“I’m so sorry my dear.” She said and came to hug her. “So sorry”.

The Last Fight

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Good Morning My Friends,

Mind-Set #1: You become a champion by fighting one more round. When things are tough, you fight one more round; Out of difficulties grow miracles. Sometimes adversity is what you need to face in order to break through! you have within you what it takes!

The measure of a man is the way he bears up under misfortune; Adversity causes some men to break, but causes others to break records. When it gets dark enough you can see the stars. don’t let your history interfere with your destiny! break out!

Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit. Mistakes and setbacks are a fact of life. It is the response to these that counts. Rise above the storm and you will find the sunshine.

Listen, No life ever grows great until it is focused, dedicated and disciplined! Wake up! Have a fulfilled week!!.

They Still Made It.

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THEY STILL MADE IT

“I was raped at the age of 9” – Oprah Winfrey

“I didn’t even complete my university education” – Bill Gates

“I was sexually, mentally, emotionally and verbally abused by my father as far back as I can remember until I left home at the age of eighteen” – Joyce Meyer

“I struggled academically throughout elementary school” – Dr. Ben Carson

“I used to serve tea at a shop to support my football training” – Lionel Messi

“I used to sleep on the floor in friends’ rooms, returning Coke bottles for food, money, and getting weekly free meals at a local temple” – Steve Jobs

“My teachers used to call me a failure” – PM Tony Blair

“I was in prison for 27 years” – and still became president. Nelson Mandela

“I drove taxi to finance my university education” – Mike Adenuga

The men and women above became the most renown in their various fields regardless of their initial Circumstances.

Though we pass through many difficulties in life, we should not give up because life is not about what you couldn’t do so far, it’s about what you can still do. Your humble beginning is a stepping stone not a full stop. So Don’t let your background keep your back on the ground.

Nobody and no situation can stop you from being the best you wish to be without your permission. Make up your mind to let nothing stop you. Decide not be merely LIMITLESS but to be ILLIMITABLE. Be Unstoppable!!

Be Inspired!
#copied
Happy Sunday family

The Abortion

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‘The Abortion’
By: Alero Ajems

“The Doctor will see you now” the nurse told her.
She got up from the operating table and began to dress up. The drug they gave her had helped numbed the pain somewhat, and the headaches seemed to have disappeared. She hoped it was a good sign, that nothing was wrong.
She walked out of the operating room and towards the Doctor’s office with a fear of the unknown.
“Please sit down, Yvonne” the doctor said as she entered his office.
“How do you feel now?”
“A bit better, thank you”
“I gave you an Anaesthetic, it would help dull the pain,…at least until we have got it all out”

The Divorce

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‘The Divorce’
By: Alero Ajems

As I watched the couple who I had joined in holy matrimony the day before make their way into my office I could not but see that something was wrong.
I asked them to sit, and not mincing words asked what had brought them here.
‘Pastor, I want a Divorce’ the husband said with a finality I couldn’t mistake.
I looked at the wife and saw her bend her head in shame as she sobbed quitely.
I turned back to the husband and asked why he wanted a divorce.
‘Pastor,…’ He said looking directly at me ‘…my Wife is not a Virgin’.

Responsibility & Dreams.

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Yes, You can follow your dreams, but if you choose to marry, you also have an obligation to equally support your wife/husband and family.
It is called “responsibility.”
It is never someone else’s job to carry more than their share of the load while the other is chasing the dream.
You have to function in reality, because carrying someone else gets old real quick with bills to pay and children to raise.
People usually want partners in marriage, not to be financial backers for someone else’s dream.
If they agree to it, fine.
But please don’t become a fanatic whose load your spouse has to carry, alone.

A Plea to the Populance to help save ‘Goat Peppersoup’

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This article as is rightly headed is a plea to everyone whether directly affected or indirectly affected to act quick and fast to help save the Goat Peppersoup delicacy before it goes into extinction!

I love Goat Peppersoup a lot.
Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know myself.
I simply just love it.
Now I have not eaten this delicacy in a while now and its not because I haven’t had the appetite for it.
No, rather its cause’ the enemies of Goat Peppersoup have decided to punish me!

If you eat Goat Peppersoup very well, you will know that a plate of Goat Peppersoup is not complete unless it has at least the underlisted ingredients:
1. Goat Meat.
2. Goat Intestines.
3. Uziza Seeds.
4. Okada Spice.
5. African Nutmeg.
6. Salt.
7. Pepper.
8. Seasoning.
If any of these ingredients isn’t there it just isn’t Goat Peppersoup.
It Can’t be Goat Peppersoup.

Now in times past you need nothing more than a thousand naira to prepare a pot of Goat Peppersoup, that would serve at least Six Persons.
Now, the Enemies of Goat Peppersoup have made it almost impossible to spend Two thousand Naira to prepare Goat Peppersoup.

I went to the market on Saturday and I discovered I needed three thousand five hundred to prepare Goat Peppersoup!
Its Thrice as much as before and over even!

Now I cannot abide this, and so I implore PMB to please put up this matter to the Criminal court and probe further to find out why its so.

Whoever causes such treason to Goat Peppersoup Delicacy must face the law duly and be punished, and with immediate effect.

Why should I hear that no one wants to travel to the north anymore and bring them Goats down South because of Boko Haram.
This is just another reason why Boko Haram must be destroyed and with immediate effect.

I Remain always,
Yours Faithfully,
Alero Ajems Arubi
Copyright 2015