There is three young men sleeping in a mosque in one small town in Northern Nigeria for the next two days, I observed two of them praying in congregation five times a day, yet the mosque remained the accommodation for the three of them. On the third day, I casually engaged them in a conversation asking about the other one. They just laughed and told me that he was not a Muslim. Surprised, I pried further. They told me that the two (Yoruba Muslims) and the one (Igbo Christian) met at a connecting station on their way (from their respective Southern states) to that town, and they became friends. Their missions were to obtain application forms for entrance into the Institution. Given that none of them knew anyone in the town, they resolved to live in the mosque and even offered their friend accommodation. They were afraid I was going to rebuke them when I told them that the Prophet had accommodated guest Christians in his Holy mosque too. But that was not the issue. The remarkable thing was that these children stayed in that mosque for nearly six months within which, they obtained the forms, secured the admission, registered and started the programs. For a fact, at the time they came, the three of them only had enough to obtain the forms. They had just a few clothes and no money for food. They told me they'd gotten jobs as labourers on one building site. A few months later they'd saved enough to rent a shop and open a barbing saloon, which the Igbo guy ran as the other two continued their menial job. I was so impressed that I felt compelled to assist with the admissions. Well, to cut the story short, at the moment the three young men are gainfully employed and prospering. One of them is even a lecturer in the same Institution. Now reverse back to that month when I met them. A few days after meeting them, it pricked me that I'd these two Hausa cousins who were back home in Kano living with our grandparents. I obtained two forms and rushed to Kano to give them to fill in. I gave them on Friday when I arrived and told them I'd be leaving on Sunday. By Monday, they had not filled in the forms. I was shocked and wanted to know why, after all I'd promised to assist with accommodation (which would naturally come with feeding), registration, and a few other things. This was despite being a starter myself, less than a year into my first job. All they could finally say was, 'Nasarawa is far. Too far.' I was deflated, I'd to tuck my tail between my legs and trudge back to my destination. Ten years later, my cousins are still at home, waiting for us to ASSIST them whenever we come home. They are also there to probably abuse us if we don't. And no doubt, this personal story must resonate with many people all over the North. The question is, what can we do to change this destructive attitude that pervades our people and our climes? What can we do to make even the ordinary man on the streets see and appreciate the big picture? What can we say to make them honour, believe and chase 'long term' fruits? How can we save them and ourselves from the mockery of living in a Nigeria where our region is economically deteriorating and socially fragmenting? It is time we begin looking for answers from within. Let us begin doing something please.

Next please.
No paragraghs.

Callotti: Next please.
No paragraghs.

must you always be stupid!cant you for once be reasonable.The dude made an observatn and needed quality contributns and this is all you ve to say!you are a shame to your people...@poster,i think we need serious cultural re-orientatn in the North of Nigeria,the Northern elites aint doing enough in this regard,they must show enough political will and effectively reach out in proper sensitization.Even if it demands inducement to get people back to school.