₦airaland Forum

Also, a more general question: where can I find 9ja guys and girls that have not been Americanized to hang out with? I attended both Nigerian Navy Secondary School, Abeokuta and Obafemi Awolowo University for some time. And to be sincere, I am so used to the nigerian kind of fun that I have failed at adapting to my new surroundings or my new friends. I am not a party person, nor an alcoholic, but in those days in Ife, I could still manage to catch fun. I am starving for 9ja flavored fun.

Maryland

Often, we begin to understand our own opinions only after they have been contested by other people. Describe a disagreement you have had. What, on the surface did it appear to be about? What do you feel it was really about? How did you handle the situation and what was the outcome of the disagreement? What did you learn from it?




African Identities in the Age of Obama
dis•a•gree•ment [ dìssə grmənt ] (plural dis•a•gree•ments)
noun
Definition:
1. failure to agree about something: the fact of having or expressing a different opinion and failing to agree about something
2. slight argument: a situation in which a number of people or groups argue
3. difference: failure to be in accordance with something

The setting was George Mason University, at a conference titled “African Identities in the Age of Obama.” I had just retired to my room after a plenary session when I heard a knock at the door. Enervated from several hours of arguments and discussions, I reluctantly opened the door.

Describe the argument, not yourself. If you are going to describe peripheral stuff, such peripheral stuff must have a strong and easily-identifiable link to the argument.

Although I am not Behind, I am ok aesthetically, and I believe that I am not bad intellectually either. So why can't I find a 9ja girl that has this in common with me, so we can start something together? Or am I looking in the wrong places? (I dey HBCU area)

I just land year about a year ago. And I am not one to diss people or insult them, as I am sensitive to such stuff. But the 9ja babes I have come across since I came here, the majority of them worwor. And worse still, them raz. Me, I no be ajebo or Behind guy, but I have fantasies of meeting an intellectually unparalleled and aesthetically mind-blowing lady. I no get plan to get a girl for some time, but if things continue the way they are, then when I finally decide, I will go for akata, since they are beautiful and well-endowed, even if they also have cotton-wool for brains. So does the average Nigerian girl have beauty and brains? Or na soso worwor and olodo dem be?

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Wonderful! I am finally convinced that I can't marry Akata.

So it took this long for someone to mention the late sage, Chief Obafemi Awolowo. There are few men of his caliber, both dead and alive. I think Abiola and IBB should make the list.

Abeg ooo! E ma gba mi. Na puzzle i wan puzzle o. Wetin concern me with coup. Abi ki lo kan agbero pelu overload.

Pray tell, why do Nigerians in the Diaspora love to cry more than the bereaved? If any one of you knows a thing about Nigerian culture, you will know that different cultures show respect in different ways. So, what is the big deal if Obama shows respect in the Saudi or Japanese way?

What part of it is not about the coup do people not understand?

wtf?

How can I change the title of the topic? Someone please help.

This is pheckung hilarious! Its funny how conspiracy theorists really believe that they have a deep insight on issues, which "common folks" do not possess. You guys believing this load of balderdash remind me of the birthers in America-folks that say Obama is not American. This is going to inspire me to do some research on the psychological effects of conspiracy theories. Because it seems to me that most of you folks gain something mentally from your warped and distorted postulations. What about this for a conspiracy theory: You guys in support were paid by the Democrats to spin these theories to give Republicans a bad name before the elections.

Thanks spikedcylinder. It seems like "Uncle" Dele took the criticism he got from the Nigerian community online to heart. I wonder if we should be proud or ashamed of that.

I am tired of dumb.arse dimwits who cannot see beyond their sense of self-righteousness. The main issue is the puzzle not the coup.

Clue: Its in the phone number.

I actually think we can derive some fun in this, broda agbaya!

I will like to know how I can stage a coup and seize NairaLand from Seun Osewa. Any interested participants can call me on 0806-382-5968.

*There is a puzzle in the above message. Figure it out, post it, and then write a message with a puzzle in it* I hope we all have fun!

I was about to conclude that becomerich=publisher before I realized that publisher does not shoot the kind of "grammatical bullets" becomerich is renowned for. Also, he seems to have see the four walls of a philosophy/logic class, unlike becomerich who could not make any solid intellectual argument, and who always used his stupid maps to pull a wool over our eyes so we do not notice his patent idiocy. As for the topic, "o happen minus"; "o sele negative"; "o occur ti".  

Time to Say Goodbye
by Dele Momodu

I had planned to say a different kind of goodbye to my ardent readers last week. A call to the Editor of THISDAY the Saturday Paper, Ms Ijeoma Nwogwugwu changed all that.



THISDAY was on holiday last Saturday, so I didn’t have to stress myself writing the Pendulum column. I had nearly completed what should have been my last piece for my THISDAY column. My target was to quit my weekly writing by the last Saturday of 2009. But that was not to be. That break turned out to be some kind of blessings, even if on some sad notes.

First was the unthinkable news of the alleged Nigerian bomber on an America-bound flight. I thought someone was cracking some cruel joke when the news broke. Nigerians have been widely advertised as the world’s happiest people. We often boast that a revolution cannot take place in our dear country for that simple reason.

We’d readily enter the Guinness Books of Records as the unsurpassable merry-makers on planet earth. How was I to believe that a 23-year old charming boy was capable of not just killing himself but also attempting to terminate almost 300 innocent souls? The story of the handsome young man remains stranger than fiction. Even as I write this the whole world is agog with the story of “The Nigerian”.

As if that was not rattling enough, I was in the ancient city of Ile-Ife last Sunday, December 27, 2009, when a text message flew into my phone like thunderbolt. I was instantly dazed by its content: MARYAM BABANGIDA IS DEAD! Like a somnambulist, I tried to clear my head of the confused state I was in.

And the journalist in me immediately took over. This was the second time in less than two months that I was receiving such terrible news. I decided to crosscheck with someone I knew was very close to the Babangidas and was able to confirm the breaking news.

I was more familiar with Maryam Babangida’s daughter, Aisha, but did not know where she was at that moment. As tradition demands in Africa, it was necessary to offer my condolences to the bereaved. I decided to send mine to Aisha and prayed for Allah to accept her mum’s soul. Surprisingly, I received a response from Aisha shortly after: “Dele, thank you very much for your thoughtful prayers. Thank you.” I could imagine how she felt at moment being a veteran of the same motherless status. My mum died over two years ago but I still cry like a baby once in a while. It is not easy to lose your mother, especially if she was as sweet as mine was.

Maryam Babangida’s battle with cancer had crept in like a thief in the night exactly ten years ago. As a matter of fact, Ovation International had published exclusive pictures of Maryam on her return from Paris where she had gone for the initial treatment in 1999. In the picture which appeared on our cover, she looked drained and darker. Our cover was a screamer of sorts: MARYAM BABANGIDA’S FIRST PICTURES AFTER HER PARIS OPERATION. But she bounced back to her usual gaiety in subsequent years and we all hoped the worst was over. In fact, she looked more radiant, and enjoyed life to the hilt.

But she had added a new kind of religious piety and her friendliness was palpable when we met at the swearing-in ceremony of Liberia’s first female President, Madam Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, in Monrovia a few years ago. She was very warm and pleasant. She made appearances here and there at birthdays, weddings and other such celebrity events. She remained a head-turner and newsmaker to the end.

I’m pleased to have had the opportunity to say goodbye to a stormy petrel whose stint as Nigeria’s First Lady was remarkable in many ways. Love or loathe her, Maryam Ndidi Babandida was a woman you couldn’t ignore. Her controversial Better Life for Women project was pursued with the agility of a wrestler. She eventually received her crowning glory when she won and shared The Hunger Project Award in 1991 with Kenya’s Nobel Peace Laureate, Professor Wangari Mathai. I was privileged to witness the powerful ceremony in London.

It was the tonic Maryam needed to continue her pet project to the very end of her tenure. Even when it seemed her husband had committed the terminal error of annulling Nigeria’s best election ever, and the people of the South-west of Nigeria felt aggrieved Maryam was the pathfinder who made it possible for the Babangidas to meander their way back to the Lagos social circuit. She was an energetic bridge-builder and a great networker.

From paying tribute to Maryam, I have the pleasure of saying goodbye to my readers. Whatever has a beginning must have an end. For me, it is time to move on. I’ll be 50 by God’s grace in a few months and I need some time to finish my books. I owe that project to the strident calls of readers who believe I must make my works permanently available to my ardent fans.

I sincerely thank both my fanatical supporters as well as my vociferous critics for making it possible for me to enjoy the cult followership I seemed to have commanded in the past few years. I’m particularly flattered and bemused that I have my chief critics who hate my column with so much venom but can’t wait to read and attack it every week. I’ll surely miss you all.

This voyage began about 30 months ago. I had just landed in Lagos that brilliant morning from my base in Accra, Ghana. As soon as we touched down, I had planned to speak to the THISDAY publisher, Mr. Nduka Obaigbena, on some important issues affecting a few of our mutual friends.

I was already on the Third Mainland Bridge when I got through to Nduka and he told me he was on his way to the airport to catch a private flight to Benin City. He insisted I must join him on the flight in order to discuss the matter of our friends. In less than one hour thereafter, we were already airborne and cruising towards the ancient city of the once powerful Benin Kingdom.



It was in the course of our flight that Nduka revealed that Segun Adeniyi was on his way to joining the Yar’Adua team in Aso Rock. I asked what would happen to his extremely popular column, and Nduka said he would find a good replacement. He asked if I was interested, and if I’ll be able to find the time from my very hectic lifestyle to write a regular column and I answered in the affirmative. I love challenges and the discipline required to oil it. I was ready to resurrect Pendulum again, and that was it.

It was really a kind of homecoming. I had been a part of the foundation that packaged the birth of Leaders & Company, the parent company of THISDAY newspapers, as far back as 1992. I had secured the services of some of the key staff at that tough beginning in the Ikoyi office. THISDAY would always be dear to my heart for that reason. I’m proud that the THISDAY media brand has grown into an octopus with fingers in many pies. It was only natural that I’ll always love to contribute to its phenomenal growth.

My biggest challenge was the difficulty of creating the time every week to write the column. The fact that I was constantly on the move made matters worse. A lot of the times, I found myself typing frantically on the plane. There were times I had to contend with the problems of time difference and internet connections, even in the United States.

I was fortunate to have had to deal with understanding editors like Simon Kolawole, at first and later Ijeoma Nwogwugwu and Laurence Ani, who gave me some flexibility. Ijeoma in particular became my chief critic. We discussed issues a lot and I found her extremely knowledgeable. She was as comfortable with financial matters as with political topics. Her versatility extended even to the choicest wines in the vineyard. Nigerians should watch out for this terrific Amazon in the future.

A second challenge was how to respond as quickly as possible to a nation and a people perpetually on the fast lane. News items are often produced in Nigeria with the rapidity of popcorn. Keeping up sometimes could be breath-taking. We also had a cynical public to deal with. They sometimes know you more than you know yourself, and they judge you by your appearance than by your real thoughts. The critics sit in the comfort of their homes to dictate who you should be and not what they should become.



Some people have taken permanent residence on the internet to attack fellow citizens without any justification. My only sin is that I publish a very popular magazine that gives space to saints and sinners to feature their events. Our magazine is largely pictorial, and we don’t write editorials which glorify “thieves and rogues”. My critics can’t seem to appreciate the risk I take by speaking up against those they claim to be my friends. Is it not easier to dine with the devil and see no evil?

There is also the issue of literary appreciation which has become lacking in our society. Some readers find it hard to appreciate the literary skills of a writer. They are only interested in his message. But writing is not always about its didactic relevance, the literary styles of the writer must be enjoyed and enjoyable. Experience they say is the best teacher. But when a writer writes from his personal experience and encounters, he’s often attacked as a boastful, name-dropping and egoistic columnist.

My favourite columnists and reporters are those who throw themselves into their art. May Ellen Ezekiel’s column, MEE, was extremely influential and inspiring because she was able to feed her readers with her incredible life experience. It is difficult to forget her Classic, Over Cognac, in which she detailed what she had to go through to have a child, including being asked to drink concoctions made from her own body fluids. An ambitious writer must be bold and be ready to shock sensibilities.

There is no law that says all columnists must write alike. That is why a column is the personal property of the writer. A reader is at liberty to read his favourite column and ignore the ones he doesn’t like. You may choose one for his message and read the other for its literary style. It is wrong to insist that every writer must embrace the same ideology and methodology. A writer is a member of our society.

He’s not a saint on account of being a social critic. He must feed his family and pay his bills like the rest of us. He’s not a masquerade from heaven. His mission is to seek for a better society, not necessarily a perfect society, because none exists in our world today.

Those who attack Segun Adeniyi for doing his job today are very unrealistic. What do they expect of him? Once a man accepts a job, he must obey his boss. He may privately advise his boss, but it would be reckless of him to criticise him in public. Segun has not behaved like the usual loquacious spokespersons of government. He has comported himself with decorum. The vicious attack on people like him is one reason good people are afraid to serve in government. The alternative is for bad people and rogues who don’t care about the name-calling to continue to rule us.

I have been asked by many readers why we bother to write in a nation where leaders don’t seem to read, and even if they do they don’t really care. My answer had always been that I write personally as a form of psychotherapy. It heals my mind to think that I can talk freely when others have been cowed. I feel good that I can risk my business and everything to criticise a system that has kept us down as a people. Writing for me is a personal victory over the principalities that inhabit our corridors of power. Nobody should take that joy away from us.

We must all engage in constructive criticism. Abusing people for fun will never change any system. Our country needs to be rescued, and we can no longer afford to keep our arms akimbo. The days of arm-chair criticism should be over. It has led us nowhere. If we truly love our country, we must join hands to liberate Nigeria from the backwardness that stares us all in the face.

I have had great fun on this page and I’ll always treasure the memory of the wonderful goodwill the Pendulum column has brought to me. May God bless us all.

Happy New Year.

becomerich, you are a dimwit and slowpoke of the highest order. which school u go sef?

I have been around here for sometime and I just think that I should say to becomerich and abuzola, "You sirs, are the most useless and dumbest excuses of human beings ever to bring your slowpokish and warped mind to this forum." I have checked different threads and the depth of your stupidity is unbelieveable. I salute ooooooooo. I hope never to see useless, dumb, shallow, dimwitted slowpokes like yourselves ever in my life again.

I have been around here for sometime and I just think that I should say to becomerich and abuzola, "You sirs, are the most useless and dumbest excuses of human beings ever to bring your slowpokish and warped mind to this forum." I have checked different threads and the depth of your stupidity is unbelieveable. I salute ooooooooo. I hope never to see useless, dumb, shallow, dimwitted slowpokes like yourselves ever in my life again.